Becoming Legend

Ned did as what he was told; wait until his papers were being processed. Which, not less than a minute. His thirty-silver paper arrived.

Ned remained seated while the attendant left to process his House.

Not long after, the male attendant handed Ned a thicker, cut to fit a pocket, piece of paper.

Ned examined both sides, eventually landing his eyes on the labels written on it: House of Sskat. Founder: Ned of O'rriadt. Created under the great swamps of the city of Bogaressi. 06 Upper Wind Month 0314 Year of the King.

Ned examined his house-name with thoughts filled with proudness. House of Sskat, huh. And I'm still Ned of O'rriadt, should have changed it. But—

[Strat name might be troubling for you, Ned.]

ICE chimed.

[For now. Not having to use Strat as your last name will be of great advantage to you.]

I can't use it. Not until I extract the Mark. And find out who's after it.

[According to the royal knight.]

ICE added. Pertaining to Ser Edwin.

[People and organizations will come after the Mark.]

Ned remained fixated on the paper. Thick, flimsy, and an icon was drawn upper right of it. It was a rook in black. The rook's talon was gripping something. Judging from the silhouette. Some kind of serpentine, perhaps a worm.

Then, we better hurry up. Ned clipped the paper and pushed it inside his brown leather pouch, along with thirteen of his silver. Eventually, sending it to his inventory.

Ned glanced at the spacious room before leaving.

To honor their guest, the male attendant accompanied Ned back to the furniture shop.

Along the way, Ned couldn't sense a hint of pity or mockery coming from the male attendant while the two were talking.

"Remember," said the male attendant. His demeanor shows the experience in handling different kinds of patrons; intimidating, steady, and direct. "In order to continue using our services. You, as the founder of the House of Sskat, must pay twenty silver a month."

Ned nodded, agreeing. While maintaining focus. This time, he felt something coming from the male attendant. Faint, but there was a trace of magic.

"Failure to do so," he said, waving his hand to carefully explain every necessary information he has to offer. "Will lose valuable services we offer. You can now start trading in the market, join the training, or enlist your self at the Hunter's Guild if your not a student of any academy. Just, make sure to show them your identification."

Ned could see the end of the alley where the furniture he and Glenn entered before.

"Was it always like this?" Ned asked.

"Like this?" The male attendant said. Confused. "If you mean the conversation between the two of us, then, yes. We have other clients younger than you, pampered nobles, if you may. But, mostly, our clients were rookie Hunters."

Ned nodded agreeing. He then stopped at the back door, where, the old man was already waiting like he has done this kind of thing for a lot of time.

The male attendant bowed and left. While Ned went inside the furniture shop. He was about to leave when Ned remembered something of the utmost importance.

"Old man, sir," he said politely. "If I want to find someone, where would I start?"

"Depends," said the old man. Standing, arms folded behind his back.

The female attendant stood behind the old, looking at Ned as if he was a new client.

That's it? Or was he? Ned thought. Shook his head, pulled a silver out his pouch, and pushed it at the counter-table across the female attendant.

The old man laughed. He laughed as if he was a new person. "I like you, kid!" He cried. Loosening an air. "Ah, if only our clients were like you, kid. I could have smiled often. Well, Since, you used our service. I'll give this one for free."

He took the silver and handed it back to Ned. And gestured him to seat on the dusty chair; which Ned did, while the lady left and came back with a cup of tea.

"Drink," he said.

Ned waited for the man to continue. He didn't. Instead, Ned drunk the cup of tea, smooth, sweet, and aromatic, sipping bit by bit until it was empty. He looked at the standing man beside him. Waiting to continue. Which he did.

"I say depends," he said. "Because it will depend on the man you are looking for. What are you looking for? Who? Where?"

"His name's Roy," Ned replied. Pushing the cup of tea. "As to who exactly, no, I don't know. As for his age, maybe around his late fifties, maybe sixty. He was last seen outside the capital of Bogblot. Somewhere in a town called Moorkeg."

The old man brushed his neatly cut beard. Muttering as if remembering something. "The details are good enough, you might find him. But," he said, and muttered. "Moorkeg... Moorkeg."

After the wave of his hand. The female attendant left and returned with a stack of paper. Another old stack of paper.

The old man runs his fingers at the old stack of papers and stopped almost in the middle. "Ah," he said. Pulling an old paper, as if the paper was damped and dried under the sun. "Here. Moorkeg. I'm doing this for free, kid. So don't get your hopes up. Fifteen years ago, Moorkeg was razed by a group of rogue magical beast, and the town, even until now, was never rebuilt. But... "

"But?" Ned asked.

The old man closed the stack of papers, handed it back to his attendant. And tapped his fingers on the table nearby Ned.

Which Ned could follow. He pulled five of his silver, a feeling of bitterness swum inside his stomach, and lightly laid them in front of the old man. Which left him with three silver in his pouch.

Yet, the old man kept on tapping his finger. Ned shook. And pulled the last three of his silver, and with a thought, he added two more from his inventory. Placing the additional five silver, Ned said. "More of it—I've got nothing left."

"I'm Deylan," he said. Scraping the silver coins and put with haste inside his side pocket. A lame green robe that reached until his knees was his attire. "Call me Dey, not an old man. She's Fialiene."

"Call me, Fia," the female attendant said. Neatly curled hair and narrow eyes. And sometimes a look of discomfort as if she was trying to hide her pale skin under her long sleeves.

The two cross their hands across their chests and bowed.

Glenn was right. Anything with silver. Ned thought. "I'm Ned of O'rriadt," Ned said bowing. "Now, can you tell me, Dey?"

"Ah, straight-forward young man," Dey said smiling. "Three things, Ned"—raising three fingers—"first, Hunters Guild Association: it would be faster if Roy the missing is—or was, a Hunter. If not, then you can try the Capital's Canton of Commerce. As long as you are looking for someone inside the Region of Bogblot, Canton of Commerce, almost have everything, you need."

"The third?"

"The third?" Dey said stroking his beard. "You just paid for it, House of Wood. But, it would be faster if you go to our branch in the capital. Don't worry, I'll make you a letter and give it to our main branch. For now, as our guest, the House of Wood will accommodate your lodging. You leave by dawn. That is if... You agree?"

"If I don't?"

"We keep the ten silver."

"Deal," Ned said, reaching a hand to Dey. Which, the latter seemed confused by Ned's gesture. "You shake it."

"Weird young man," Dey said, shaking Ned's hand.

With the help of Fia, Ned was introduced to his temporary lodging. Ned thought if he paid Dey too much since the room was sparkling clean, filled with an air of mint circling the very nook of the room.

After their deal, Ned decided to roam the city of Bogaressi. The sun was almost waving goodbye, the already cold wind became arctic which Ned took in favor because of his cloak. The cloak seemed to cooperate with Ned since he felt warmer instead of freezing.

Amidst the coldness, the people were lively. Hunters of different age roam the plaza of fountain with their parties. Merchants seemed to be energetic with the dusk coming.

Ned wandered the market, selecting with his eyes a number of monster parts: furry tails, sturdy grey claws, and scales of massive sizes.

Ned turned at the far end of the market, there he saw a crowd of Hunters. This is it. Ned thought. Glancing at the blade sold by a random guy. His items were set up randomly on the floor.

But Ned wasn't there for the blade. He kept on walking at the crowd as the Hunters eyed him with curious looks. He should be eyed since only him walked among the other Hunters. Ned could discern the youngest would be around eighteen. And the oldest. Well, Ned saw a Hunter with a heavy sword slung on his back, he could be much older than his Master, or Dey.

In the crowd, Ned noticed the necklaces the Hunters wore. Ned eyed a lady near a shop of clothing, probably around eighteen or twenty, she wore a mage's robe that hung until her knees, no pointy hat, but a necklace made of wood. The other guy beside her, with a tank top, and an armor running his leg, and a heavy blade, wore a necklace made of bronze. Hunters wore these necklaces as if it was a part of their body.

Eyeing them led Ned to a shop, almost at the edge of the bustling market. Rouge suits hung the wall, daggers made of iron, silver, and crystals lined the cabinet at the bottom. To his left, different length of bow slung at the far end of the shop.

"Daggers... Kid?" Said the merchant with an uncertain voice. He sat back and left Ned standing across his shop. "Leave, kid. I don't sell toys here. Leave." Fluttering his hand.

Ned remained, tightening his eyes. "How much for the hunter's bow?" He said, certain to buy the weapon.

The merchant shrugged off his shoulder. But, he saw Ned staying still across his shop. "The crude's 60," he said rolling his dunces eyes. "The short's 80, and the long was 90. In silver, kid. Not Bronze, or scrap."

Ned raised a part of his lips. "Anything worth forty or thirty?" He said, pitying himself. He used too much of his silver. He wanted to buy a bow to aide his travel for tomorrow and to feel secure as well.

"Scram, kid," said the merchant. Leaving Ned alone in front of his shop.

Without other choices, Ned left the lively market. It was only lively when one has enough currency to buy at the standing tall shops.

The market was lively, the same as the figure following him ever since Ned arrived at the Market. Perhaps before that.

Darkness veiled the trees. Ned focused, he moved in a light foot. He turned to his right, dark alley welcomed him. He turned right, once more, and another right. Ned's footing was masked by the noise of the leaves waving back and forth.

The figure stopped in the middle of the dark alley; confused.

Ned pussyfoots from behind. The man was tall, but not if he was kneeling. Ned smirked as he kicked the figure behind his knees. The figure fell on two and knelt. Ned grabbed his neck, locking it between his arms. He saw a gleam behind the man's waist—a dagger. Ned's hand blurred, pulled the blade and pointed it near the figure's ear. "Speak," Ned said, his voice; warm and intent.

"Easy, kid," said the man.

But, he wasn't a man. Under the rising moon, Ned saw a kid. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. He was just tall.

"Why follow?" Ned said. Pushing the dagger near his ear hole.

"I," he said trembling. "I just wanted a trade. Kid wanted a bow?"