Touch of Fate

"I'm terribly sorry about all that, the adventurers around these parts are a close-knit group, and they tend to treat Wren here as something like a little sister they need to protect." The Guildmaster explained while indicating a chair on one side of the cramped office. "Please have a seat."

The woman in question was standing in front of a couch on the far wall. She'd cleaned herself thoroughly using Lifestyle Magic, but was evidently still concerned about any lingering grime, since she spent a few seconds carefully inspecting herself before sitting down.

"No harm done." Mike replied while taking a seat. "I'm sorry it turned out the way it did. Hopefully there weren't any lasting injuries."

Torentio waved dismissively. "The members of this guild branch have few redeeming qualities. Durability is the foremost among them. Don't concern yourself at all."

"Alright, then what did you want to speak to me about. I take it there is more to this invitation than simply apologizing for overzealous adventurers."

"You are right on that account." The Guildmaster agreed. "I'm guessing that you came here with the intention of checking in, and perhaps even looking for a request."

"Perhaps...although I'd say looking for information on the dungeons in the region is a larger part of my visit. I intended on visiting the ones nearby when I have the chance."

"Of course, of course. While we are not directly responsible for managing either dungeon, we can still vouch for you, and ensure that you are allowed entry. Believe it or not, the Lions rely heavily on our recommendations when determining who is qualified to enter."

Mike thought he sensed a subtle threat to the man's words, which confused him slightly. What benefit could the Guildmaster derive from potentially insulting a powerful visitor.

[Maybe he intends to use his recommendation as leverage to get me to resolve some issues for him. If that's the case, I think he will be sorely disappointed.]

Perhaps sensing his sudden wariness, Torentio gave a reassuring smile. "We will of course be indicating our full confidence in your abilities. If a Tier 4 has a mind to do anything, well, I would be quite foolish to try and stand in his way. Wouldn't I?"

Mike nodded, still trying to get a read on the man.

"Of course, the same could not necessarily be said of any you plan to take with you."

[Ah, there's the catch.]

He raised an eyebrow and allowed a little bit of anger to enter his features.

"Now, now Sir Dragonknight," The Guildmaster placated quickly. "I don't mean any offense, it's just that the Lions treat our recommendations seriously because we remain impartial in the manner in which we give them. If we were to loosen those standards for any reason, we may very well risk losing our standing with them. If it is not obvious from the state of our branch office, we really aren't in a position to give up what little we currently have."

As if to punctuate his statement, a loud whistle blew from the building next door at a deafening volume that bordered on painful. It continued for a few seconds before trailing off into a warble. Once it had fully quieted, the chute on the side of the meat processing plant opened up and dumped a long stream of fresh gore into the wooden box underneath it.

Somehow, Mike could smell the offal through the office window, and he used a bit of Air Magic to push the foul odor away.

"Looks like it's near closing time at the plant." Torentio explained with a tired look on his face. "They always clean out their meat traps at the end of the day. The smell will stick around for a few hours, even after they take the slop for disposal."

"You have my sympathies, but I still fail to see how my traveling companions are not qualified to enter the dungeons."

"Please, I never said anything of the sort. Any qualified member of the guild is eligible for our recommendation, so long as they meet the rank requirement."

"And what's the requirement?" Mike asked.

"Rank 3 for the Seaside Citadel at a minimum, although we recommend bringing a few higher ranking members with you, since some of the monsters can be rather challenging. As for the Screaming Dark, while Rank 5s are allowed, you need to have at least one Rank 6 in your party to receive a recommendation. I know it seems a bit unreasonable, considering how rare high ranking adventurers are, but the Guild felt that the dungeon had too high of a casualty rate with Rank 5s alone."

Unfortunately, with the exception of Tal and Sera, most of the rest of his party was unregistered with the Guild and it would take a great deal of effort to achieve that kind of advancement in a short period of time. He'd anticipated this problem, but assumed his status as a Tier 4 Mage would solve most of these problems for him.

"Perhaps I should speak with the Lions on the matter." He offered while leaning back in his chair, keeping a close eye on the Guildmaster's face as he responded.

"You certainly could, but I suspect you will find them quite intractable. They are renowned for their strict adherence to the letter of the law, and will not bend save in the direst of circumstances. Alternatively, you could visit the College of Worthies the next time they are in session and petition them to make an exception. I seriously doubt that they would choose to hinder you."

"And when would that session be?"

Torentio looked thoughtful. "I believe the next session is scheduled to take place in about two months. You see, they are currently in the midst of their winter break, when landholding members return to their homes to manage their affairs. It might be possible to have them call an emergency session, but I fear it would still be several weeks before they could be gathered again."

Mike sighed. Apparently he would need to force the issue. "Alright, what is it that you want?"

"I'm sorry?"

"This whole discussion has been leading in the direction of getting me to do something in exchange for allowing my party members to enter the dungeons. Now, what is it that you want from me?"

"To clarify, I am merely explaining the difficulties inherent to any recommendations I might make in the near future, and I planned on offering a solution to the best of my abilities. You see, while I cannot simply grant Rank 5 adventurer status, I can however expedite the process immensely. However, in order to do so, the individuals in question would need to complete a few specially chosen requests to justify the sudden elevation." Torentio hastily explained.

"This is the part where you tell me that you have a method of solving both of our problems in a simple and straightforward way." Mike grumbled. "Look, stop playing games and just tell me what it is that you want. As an adventurer, I'm not opposed to working for the guild, provided that we're adequately compensated for it, but I don't have the time or the patience for this nonsense, and I won't tolerate being coerced into anything."

The Guildmaster blinked for a few moments, before grinning wryly. "Sorry about that. When you work in politics it becomes second nature. To keep it simple, the branch here has a request we'd like your help with, since it's largely beyond the capabilities of our current members. If you can get it done in time and complete a few other filler requests, I'll make sure your party members are promoted to Rank 5. Sound good?"

[Getting everyone up to Rank 5 would make things significantly easier in the future…]

"That would largely depend on the request."

"Of course." Torentio replied while thoughtfully tapping his bearded chin with one finger. "What do you know about the Gildusi Cooking Festival?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Well, to make a long story short, it is a major event here in town, drawing people from all over the Riverlands. Hundreds of cooks compete every year for the recognition of the Mythril Chef judges and the faint hope of joining their ranks."

"So there isn't any other prize?" Mike asked, a bit confused.

"Another prize isn't necessary. Winning the title of Mythril Chef can pretty much guarantee your future in the cooking industry, and you will never want for sponsors or investors for any of your culinary enterprises. Hells, you'd even be able to make a decent living simply making guest appearances at otherwise established restaurants. It's more or less a ticket to the easy life for chefs, which makes the competition rather fierce."

"Alright, fair enough. So then, what is the request?"

"Every year, the competing cooks are charged with preparing a certain style of dish that will be judged. While they are allowed to impart their own unique variations and interpretations of the recipe, they must still follow the basics in order to avoid disqualification."

[Not too far away from the cooking contests on Earth, I suppose.] Mike thought before saying, "While interesting, I still haven't heard what you want from me."

"I was getting to that. The dish chosen for this year is called Comen'palla, a traditional meal prepared by the western tribes. Which has been a controversial choice, let me tell you. As a simple recipe that relies heavily on the quality of base materials to provide sufficient flavor, the committee this year essentially made the contest a matter of who could secure the best ingredients. Of course, that's an oversimplification, there is still a great deal…"

He trailed off as he noticed Mike's glare. "Right, yes. Anyway, one of the favorites for this year's competition has placed several requests for ingredients with the Guild. While the majority of these are relatively straightforward and won't present much of a problem, the request concerning the main ingredient is somewhat more difficult."

"So, you need me to hunt down this ingredient, which will in turn help this chef win the competition. In doing so, you'll improve the reputation of the Guild among the other cooks while simultaneously proving that you are capable of taking on difficult and dangerous requests. Is that about right?"

The Guildmaster looked startled, but finally nodded. "That's about the long and the short of it."

"What's this ingredient, and why is it so difficult for you to harvest yourself?"

"Ah, well, the base material for the Comen'palla dish is traditionally the meat of a certain kind of flightless wyvern that is known to inhabit the mountains to the west. However, they aren't exactly tasty, and most chefs would describe the meat as palatable at best. As such, it's believed that the implied task for this year's competition is to secure a similar, but much more delectable alternative. The request placed is for just such an alternative, or rather the most desirable one."

Mike waited for the man to get to the point, something that seemed to be increasingly difficult for him.

"The 15th floor of the Screaming Dark is home to some truly horrific creatures, but one of them is famous for the deliciousness of its meat. Known as the Tenebrous Phasianidae, it supposedly resembles the flightless wyvern in form, but vastly surpasses it in terms of taste."

"Wait...don't dungeon monsters disappear after you defeat them? How would one collect the meat?"

"That is where the difficulty of this request comes into play. While you can occasionally get meat as an item drop, the most certain method is to harvest it while the monster is still alive. I'm sure you can imagine how difficult that might be, even for skilled adventurers."

[Not to mention disturbing.]

Pausing for a few seconds to get his thoughts in order, he asked, "How much, and when would you need it?"

"At least 10 kilograms, and ideally we'd need it by the end of the week. That being said, the request will be fulfilled so long as it is delivered prior to the start of the competition in ten days."

"...Let me think it over, and I will get back to you."

[I was planning on scouting out the dungeons before taking the others, just in case there were any surprisingly lethal parts. So, I suppose this won't be too much of a problem...But, I want to do a little more digging before I blindly go along with this offer.]

"Very well. I sincerely hope you will agree to help us." Torentio offered while standing. He glanced out the window where a team of workers from the meat processing plant were finally getting around to disposing of the contents of the slop crate. "We could really use the boost in reputation right about now."

Mike nodded, waved a goodbye to Wren, who'd been carefully listening to the exchange with a slightly sick look on her face, and made his departure.