The foreigner laid in bed, her ignited eyes staring up at the ceiling above. She was exhausted and tired, yet…nevertheless, still awake. It was dark, though not quite, for she had left the curtains open this time around…thus the atmosphered moon’s luminescent light shined into the room.
What a day it had been…so little happened, yet quite a lot. First that Collegium process…and then that strange conversation of that equally strange patron, or ‘spy’ as she had begun to realize…indeed, what a long day.
Funny and ironic, it was, for a day to feel so long…despite being utterly insignificant and minute in comparison to everything else. Was this what…everyday felt like…for the denizens and their short finite existences?
She did not know; she did not care to know.
Yet…her mind reflected…contemplating. That spy of a patron…a weaver that had been so…studying her this entire time, one who had seemed interested in her former associate before…seemingly becoming interested in she herself, for whatever reason. His astute observations about her…stylisms of fighting and such…were not necessarily wrong…either.
She was largely proficient in combat that was oriented around evasion, speed, agility, rapid mobility, and adaptive flexibility: always being on the move in any and all environments. Though, she had…simply gravitated towards such a style…it had not been ordained or built into her.
Likewise, she could hardly refer to herself as a ‘skilled fighter’; indeed…for the standards of her and those like her…she was, in fact, rather subpar. Direct combat and engagements were not her designated specialty, unlike her former associate who had been specialized for direct combat. In fact, her being an evasive, fast, and always-on-the-move little bug was to precisely avoid and stay out of direct combat while…other things…usually did all the fighting for her.
She and her former associate…were two parts of the same machination, yet…were two different cogs belonging to two different…components with two…different functions and purposes…having been sent here for…two completely different reasons.
The foreigner sighed before yawning, her eyes turning as she stared at the side-table near…right…‘token-marker’, didn’t he say? That shiny trinket which he had given her as part of his ‘tip’ all those many days prior…so even this apparent junk had been given with intention. She was surprised that she still even had it…though…she was not one to necessarily clear-out her pockets, thus…it was not…really a surprise at all.
She stared at the shiny token-marker thing, which laid slumbering away on her side-table…when had she even put that there? She did not remember; it must have been…an automatic thing she had done without thinking or attending.
Yawning again, she picked it up in hand, laying her back down as she stared up at the small shiny trinket held to eyes, the moon’s light making it somewhat visible enough for evaluating. Hmm…she felt it, her fingers inspecting and sensing the surface and features…things were engraved on it, she could tell.
She lowered her hand, the trinket drawing closer to her analyzing eyes. Hmm…she noticed…tiny numbers and letters…engraved, not spelling or indicating anything legible. It was…a code, most likely. It was probably a unique identifier sequence…hence the ‘marker’ element in its name. She did not know…what its purpose was…only that…she needed to keep it due to apparent ‘future relevancies’.
Hmm…why did that weaving patron…want her to join this ‘Guild’ specifically? Clearly…that must have been a goal of his…this entire time, though double clearly there was more to it than simply that…otherwise he would not have gone on and on and on…making so many remarks and…noises.
No doubt…this ‘Adventurers’ Guild’ also had something to do with all of this…in a direct sense. He must be…associated with them or there must be some sort of overlapping vested interests…though, it was still rather hard to say…with certainty; too much…remained in shadow.
She trusted none of this at all…not him…nor even this ‘Guild’. She had every reason to be distrusting and suspicious…yet despite that…she was still…intrigued and curious, in a way far stronger than she had been with…the Collegium or anything else prior.
Indeed…the Collegium, in fact, just judging from her experiences from that ‘screening process’, did not seem to be all that…interesting…never mind the amount of time and…coin required to even become a recognized arcane specialist…
Though…likewise, she had spent the coin on it, and she had received the application packet—which she had…practically infinite time to fill-out, for there was no…mandated deadline. Thus…it still made for a decent option to retain in reserve.
But for now…she wanted to investigate this ‘Guild’ further…and see where this path might take her…to see if it…truly would scratch that itch she had deep down within her, an itch she knew she had deep within…yet could not really describe or comprehend…even if it was seemingly driving her so.
Everything she did here…in the end was just her…wasting time as she wasted and waited away, biding her time.
So many things she still did not know about this place…so many questions never asked yet lingered in mind. Yet, she could care less about all such things, for it changed neither her immediate circumstances…nor the nature of what this web in which she was so entangled was to begin with.
All she knew, by day’s end, was that she just needed to continue survive and continue to live…to keep dragging things out…even though deep down within her mind’s shadow…she truly did want it all to finally end.
Regardless, if she was…going to be wasting away her infinite time, then she may as well…waste such infinite time with something…vaguely familiar and…at least partially…interesting and stimulating.
She placed the trinket back onto the side-table…her eyes, slowly but surely, closed shut as her mind…gradually retreated away into slumber’s obscurity, as did her essence deep within.
-|||-
Behold before her eyes was a building…a rather strange and elaborate building at that. Not extremely large but not very small either, wide…rather so, and seemed to be at least two floors. It had dozens of large windows scattered about, especially on the ground floor, which acted more like walls than windows to be frank.
She peered…standing before the interesting-looking double door. Noticing a sign, she leaned in; « …ath Erunteudarz Dyleuge…fw’ath Tnowkey fu Zaucdyleif? » she read out loud the words written in local tongue. ‘The Adventurers’ Guild of the County of Coastfield’ so read the sign.
Yep…this was it; this was the Guild hall…finally. Though, even without the sign…it was perhaps rather obvious, for it certainly stood out.
It had not taken her too long to pinpoint its location within this…rather large settlement, having used, yet again, that ever tried-and-true method of asking randoms around until one inevitably pointed the way. Though…reaching it was a completely different matter; the Guild hall was located in a different part of the outskirts, halfway across from where her urban housing building was situated and well past that tavern she had worked at prior. Thus…it had required quite the walk.
The Guild hall itself was located at the center of its own plaza of sorts, an empty hole in this sea of urban sprawl. Likewise, the area around was…not nearly as maintained as other parts of this locality, though…it was not completely neglected either.
Dirty…to a point, pavement and streets cracked…somewhat, water fountains and sanitation were present…though were far scarcer. It was a safe place…largely…for a lady to wander alone, though…perhaps not as much so during night, yet…also not completely so either—not as though she had any reason to be concerned in whatever case.
Regardless, it seemed to be in this…middle state between poverty and affluence, being truly neither.
The Guild hall proper stood out quite a bit in contrast to the area around, and not just because it had its own little island of space in this urban sea. No…its design and style were rather…unique and peculiar. Elaborate and sophisticated, yet also utilitarian and pragmatic—familiar feelings…descriptors indeed, though it was also…somewhat…complicated in a way.
Likewise, it was rather ‘Far Western’ in design, yet also…not, since the Guild’s aesthetics predated the arrival of the Far West…by several millennia. It was a style of design and aesthetics which none in these lands could ever mistake.
Though, in spite of these characteristics, this building…clearly seemed to be one that had seen…better days, even to her.
The foreigner sighed, standing before the door…contemplating, thinking, cogitating. Deliberating…hesitating…all for reasons…deep down within her that she herself…could not really comprehend or understand, yet clearly…they were there…causing her to stall. She stood and stared at the door…blanking in mind, her ears could already hear the echoing noises emanating from within.
She took a deep breath…before exhaling; no more deliberating, only decisive action.
She sprung open the door as she immediately stepped in…only to be immediately bombarded with a fury of so many…denizens and their…noises, far louder than she had initially assumed; though… nothing like that tavern…not at all, this was more than tolerable…this was nothing, in fact.
She stood there as the door shut from behind, her mask-obscured eyes peering.
The interior was…well…it was the interior of a Guild hall of the one and only Adventurers’ Guild, there was no mistaking it in these lands. Elaborate and fancy, much like the exterior, yet also more ‘rugged’ and ‘adventurey’.
Likewise, it was oddly ‘Far Western’ in appearance despite, again, being a Guild-specific style which predated the Far West by several millennia. Actually, in fact, paradoxically…it seemed to be more ‘Far Western’ than the Far West itself…somehow. Although not endemic to the actual…direct style and design of this…strange building, something about it all was certainly…‘administrative’ and ‘bureaucratic’ as well.
This Guild hall of sorts, this main area of it in particular, was divided and segmented into two connected–but still separate enough–parts: a main central receptionist counter area, a rather large one, directly in front of the entry point, flanked by a few doors behind it which lead to other parts of this facility, with the large ‘quest’ board to the right; and a social hub area directly to the left of this main counter area, with a simple small stairway of three stairs leading to it.
The social hub area was more…rugged in appearance despite being directly next to the more elegant main receptionist area, being filled with dozens of wooden tables and benches; it was probably with a capacity for fifty to sixty denizens total; though…it was only occupied by twenty to twenty-five presently.
The social hub area had its own counter area…one which served a rather…familiar intoxicating foamy liquid substance…one with that all so familiar stench which numbed the foreigner’s mind. Ah, so that was why she hardly ever saw these ‘adventurer’ types at that tavern she had once worked at…since most seemed to linger here…spending the coin they had earned from the Guild…back to the Guild—fascinating arrangement indeed.
Hmm…she eyed around, peering at this social hub of theirs, evaluating the adventurers who largely…minded their own business, though some curious eyes eyed her as much as she eyed them. Warriors, spellswords, crusaders, hoplites, assassins, rangers, maidens, spellcasters and freelancers, foreign exiles, disgraced knights, all sorts of flavor and styles of people and combat specialists littered these tables; laughing, heckling, speaking, and making many arrays of denizen noises.
Hmm…though, she had yet to spot anything as absurd as that Sapphire adventurer whom she had seen so many months ago…hmm…rather mundane everyone here seemed to be comparatively, yet also…interesting in different ways; albeit, all she truly saw was…just different shades of primitiveness, the fine details being largely missed.
Hmm…she noticed among these denizens around, ladies…very specific looking ladies. She counted no more than seven in total; one located in the social hub’s counter, two located in the main counter area, the rest…scattered about doing…whatever chores and tasks were necessary to maintain and operate this facility, some exiting and entering through those doors around, all standardized and uniformed, professionalized…though with some divergences.
These must be the Guild ‘receptionists’ of this facility, the administrative operating staff. She had heard of these ‘receptionists’ before, as quite a many of adventurers who would actually show up to that former tavern of hers…tended to never shut-up about them. Always lamenting about their inability to engage in reproductive compactive agreements with them or whatever.
The Guild receptionists were the predominate face of the Adventurers’ Guild and were—as with the rest of the Guild and its general aesthetics—unmistakable to these lands. Always women, they were…one of the few occupations in these lands that were exclusive to women and carried social dignity and pride—having been trained, educated, and professionalized by the Guild’s administration directly, they were some of the most educated people in these lands, let alone ladies.
Their uniform was rather peculiar and Guild-specific, donning a moderately fancy skirted-vested-suit of sorts, it was somewhat hard to describe given the divergence in dresswear in comparison to the rest of these lands.
White sleeves that hinted at a white-colored underlayer worn underneath a formal colored-vest donned along an equally formal suit-skirt of sorts, which was either colored identically to the vest or was simply black, and worn with black leggings or ‘pantyhose’ or some sort of similar relevant undercovering, in addition to black leathery heels.
Additionally, they seemed to have a ‘medallion’ or an ‘amulet’ or something similarly fancy…which was not worn as much as it was affixed to their collar and vest, differing in fanciness, theme, and color—a designator of position and rank, seemingly.
‘Formal’, ‘professional’, ‘bureaucratic’, ‘custodian’, all such related descriptors and indexes could be invoked; an aesthetic which stood in stark contrast to the majority of feminine clothing in these lands, even those associated with ‘officiality’ and ‘formality’.
As with the rest of the Guild, this style of dresswear was one that seemed vaguely ‘Far Western’, and likewise as with the rest of the Guild, paradoxically seemed far more ‘Far Western’ than even the Far West itself—as if it were something straight from their future intermixed with local fantastical elements and ‘Guild’ flavor.
Such a contrast their attire was that even the foreigner herself…could immediately tell that there was a potent incongruency between this Guild and the rest of these lands’ aesthetics…at least relative to what she had seen so far. It was as if she had just stepped into a different locality entirely, quite frankly.
However, one…rather mundane…detail which stuck out the most to the foreigner’s analyzing eyes was…oddly enough…their vests, or rather their vests’ color. The two receptionists stationed in the main counter area had…dark-blue colored vests, the other receptionists scattered about had…light-blue colored vests, and the receptionist stationed within the social hub counter area…had a red colored vest.
It was rather clear…that the vest’s color was likely a designator of sorts for ‘role’ or ‘branch’ or ‘type’ or something similar—their designated job in other words.
This rather mundane detail was interesting to the foreigner because it was one that was rather…familiar; uniform color was used as a similar designator for her and those she was associated with. Thus, it was…interesting to see a local apparatus utilize a similar ‘department’ designation mechanism.
Hmm…indeed, this place…felt somewhat familiar in such ways, the ‘professionalized’ and standardized feelings in the air around…‘utilitarian’ and ‘pragmatic’ in many ways. Yet, it was still rather alien despite these illusions of familiarity. ‘Colorful complexity’…indeed, such was a sense she was getting…almost as if complexity for the sake of complexity, maybe not in aesthetics but certainly in organization.
“…oh hey! Hello you!” so greeted loudly with a smiling charm from the main counter area near yet afar; waving her hand away in delighted glee at the foreigner, who had spent that last few dozen seconds staring and peering around, was a main counter receptionist, no longer preoccupied with another adventurer and their whatever-problems and was now seemingly alone as her other…had went off for some other affair.
“A new face…or erm…masquerade I see! I am sorry I did not notice you there for a second!” she added further with rather the smiling charm…a somewhat…familiar smiling charm, one often donned by the foreigner herself…albeit this one was perhaps more genuine and sincere.
The foreigner stared…somewhat blankly…her mind having become perhaps too distracted. She relaxed her face…donning her usual cordial charm and smile, before she promptly began to make way.
The foreigner laid in bed, her ignited eyes staring up at the ceiling above. She was exhausted and tired, yet…nevertheless, still awake. It was dark, though not quite, for she had left the curtains open this time around…thus the atmosphered moon’s luminescent light shined into the room.
What a day it had been…so little happened, yet quite a lot. First that Collegium process…and then that strange conversation of that equally strange patron, or ‘spy’ as she had begun to realize…indeed, what a long day.
Funny and ironic, it was, for a day to feel so long…despite being utterly insignificant and minute in comparison to everything else. Was this what…everyday felt like…for the denizens and their short finite existences?
She did not know; she did not care to know.
Yet…her mind reflected…contemplating. That spy of a patron…a weaver that had been so…studying her this entire time, one who had seemed interested in her former associate before…seemingly becoming interested in she herself, for whatever reason. His astute observations about her…stylisms of fighting and such…were not necessarily wrong…either.
She was largely proficient in combat that was oriented around evasion, speed, agility, rapid mobility, and adaptive flexibility: always being on the move in any and all environments. Though, she had…simply gravitated towards such a style…it had not been ordained or built into her.
Likewise, she could hardly refer to herself as a ‘skilled fighter’; indeed…for the standards of her and those like her…she was, in fact, rather subpar. Direct combat and engagements were not her designated specialty, unlike her former associate who had been specialized for direct combat. In fact, her being an evasive, fast, and always-on-the-move little bug was to precisely avoid and stay out of direct combat while…other things…usually did all the fighting for her.
She and her former associate…were two parts of the same machination, yet…were two different cogs belonging to two different…components with two…different functions and purposes…having been sent here for…two completely different reasons.
The foreigner sighed before yawning, her eyes turning as she stared at the side-table near…right…‘token-marker’, didn’t he say? That shiny trinket which he had given her as part of his ‘tip’ all those many days prior…so even this apparent junk had been given with intention. She was surprised that she still even had it…though…she was not one to necessarily clear-out her pockets, thus…it was not…really a surprise at all.
She stared at the shiny token-marker thing, which laid slumbering away on her side-table…when had she even put that there? She did not remember; it must have been…an automatic thing she had done without thinking or attending.
Yawning again, she picked it up in hand, laying her back down as she stared up at the small shiny trinket held to eyes, the moon’s light making it somewhat visible enough for evaluating. Hmm…she felt it, her fingers inspecting and sensing the surface and features…things were engraved on it, she could tell.
She lowered her hand, the trinket drawing closer to her analyzing eyes. Hmm…she noticed…tiny numbers and letters…engraved, not spelling or indicating anything legible. It was…a code, most likely. It was probably a unique identifier sequence…hence the ‘marker’ element in its name. She did not know…what its purpose was…only that…she needed to keep it due to apparent ‘future relevancies’.
Hmm…why did that weaving patron…want her to join this ‘Guild’ specifically? Clearly…that must have been a goal of his…this entire time, though double clearly there was more to it than simply that…otherwise he would not have gone on and on and on…making so many remarks and…noises.
No doubt…this ‘Adventurers’ Guild’ also had something to do with all of this…in a direct sense. He must be…associated with them or there must be some sort of overlapping vested interests…though, it was still rather hard to say…with certainty; too much…remained in shadow.
She trusted none of this at all…not him…nor even this ‘Guild’. She had every reason to be distrusting and suspicious…yet despite that…she was still…intrigued and curious, in a way far stronger than she had been with…the Collegium or anything else prior.
Indeed…the Collegium, in fact, just judging from her experiences from that ‘screening process’, did not seem to be all that…interesting…never mind the amount of time and…coin required to even become a recognized arcane specialist…
Though…likewise, she had spent the coin on it, and she had received the application packet—which she had…practically infinite time to fill-out, for there was no…mandated deadline. Thus…it still made for a decent option to retain in reserve.
But for now…she wanted to investigate this ‘Guild’ further…and see where this path might take her…to see if it…truly would scratch that itch she had deep down within her, an itch she knew she had deep within…yet could not really describe or comprehend…even if it was seemingly driving her so.
Everything she did here…in the end was just her…wasting time as she wasted and waited away, biding her time.
So many things she still did not know about this place…so many questions never asked yet lingered in mind. Yet, she could care less about all such things, for it changed neither her immediate circumstances…nor the nature of what this web in which she was so entangled was to begin with.
All she knew, by day’s end, was that she just needed to continue survive and continue to live…to keep dragging things out…even though deep down within her mind’s shadow…she truly did want it all to finally end.
Regardless, if she was…going to be wasting away her infinite time, then she may as well…waste such infinite time with something…vaguely familiar and…at least partially…interesting and stimulating.
She placed the trinket back onto the side-table…her eyes, slowly but surely, closed shut as her mind…gradually retreated away into slumber’s obscurity, as did her essence deep within.
-|||-
Behold before her eyes was a building…a rather strange and elaborate building at that. Not extremely large but not very small either, wide…rather so, and seemed to be at least two floors. It had dozens of large windows scattered about, especially on the ground floor, which acted more like walls than windows to be frank.
She peered…standing before the interesting-looking double door. Noticing a sign, she leaned in; « …ath Erunteudarz Dyleuge…fw’ath Tnowkey fu Zaucdyleif? » she read out loud the words written in local tongue. ‘The Adventurers’ Guild of the County of Coastfield’ so read the sign.
Yep…this was it; this was the Guild hall…finally. Though, even without the sign…it was perhaps rather obvious, for it certainly stood out.
It had not taken her too long to pinpoint its location within this…rather large settlement, having used, yet again, that ever tried-and-true method of asking randoms around until one inevitably pointed the way. Though…reaching it was a completely different matter; the Guild hall was located in a different part of the outskirts, halfway across from where her urban housing building was situated and well past that tavern she had worked at prior. Thus…it had required quite the walk.
The Guild hall itself was located at the center of its own plaza of sorts, an empty hole in this sea of urban sprawl. Likewise, the area around was…not nearly as maintained as other parts of this locality, though…it was not completely neglected either.
Dirty…to a point, pavement and streets cracked…somewhat, water fountains and sanitation were present…though were far scarcer. It was a safe place…largely…for a lady to wander alone, though…perhaps not as much so during night, yet…also not completely so either—not as though she had any reason to be concerned in whatever case.
Regardless, it seemed to be in this…middle state between poverty and affluence, being truly neither.
The Guild hall proper stood out quite a bit in contrast to the area around, and not just because it had its own little island of space in this urban sea. No…its design and style were rather…unique and peculiar. Elaborate and sophisticated, yet also utilitarian and pragmatic—familiar feelings…descriptors indeed, though it was also…somewhat…complicated in a way.
Likewise, it was rather ‘Far Western’ in design, yet also…not, since the Guild’s aesthetics predated the arrival of the Far West…by several millennia. It was a style of design and aesthetics which none in these lands could ever mistake.
Though, in spite of these characteristics, this building…clearly seemed to be one that had seen…better days, even to her.
The foreigner sighed, standing before the door…contemplating, thinking, cogitating. Deliberating…hesitating…all for reasons…deep down within her that she herself…could not really comprehend or understand, yet clearly…they were there…causing her to stall. She stood and stared at the door…blanking in mind, her ears could already hear the echoing noises emanating from within.
She took a deep breath…before exhaling; no more deliberating, only decisive action.
She sprung open the door as she immediately stepped in…only to be immediately bombarded with a fury of so many…denizens and their…noises, far louder than she had initially assumed; though… nothing like that tavern…not at all, this was more than tolerable…this was nothing, in fact.
She stood there as the door shut from behind, her mask-obscured eyes peering.
The interior was…well…it was the interior of a Guild hall of the one and only Adventurers’ Guild, there was no mistaking it in these lands. Elaborate and fancy, much like the exterior, yet also more ‘rugged’ and ‘adventurey’.
Likewise, it was oddly ‘Far Western’ in appearance despite, again, being a Guild-specific style which predated the Far West by several millennia. Actually, in fact, paradoxically…it seemed to be more ‘Far Western’ than the Far West itself…somehow. Although not endemic to the actual…direct style and design of this…strange building, something about it all was certainly…‘administrative’ and ‘bureaucratic’ as well.
This Guild hall of sorts, this main area of it in particular, was divided and segmented into two connected–but still separate enough–parts: a main central receptionist counter area, a rather large one, directly in front of the entry point, flanked by a few doors behind it which lead to other parts of this facility, with the large ‘quest’ board to the right; and a social hub area directly to the left of this main counter area, with a simple small stairway of three stairs leading to it.
The social hub area was more…rugged in appearance despite being directly next to the more elegant main receptionist area, being filled with dozens of wooden tables and benches; it was probably with a capacity for fifty to sixty denizens total; though…it was only occupied by twenty to twenty-five presently.
The social hub area had its own counter area…one which served a rather…familiar intoxicating foamy liquid substance…one with that all so familiar stench which numbed the foreigner’s mind. Ah, so that was why she hardly ever saw these ‘adventurer’ types at that tavern she had once worked at…since most seemed to linger here…spending the coin they had earned from the Guild…back to the Guild—fascinating arrangement indeed.
Hmm…she eyed around, peering at this social hub of theirs, evaluating the adventurers who largely…minded their own business, though some curious eyes eyed her as much as she eyed them. Warriors, spellswords, crusaders, hoplites, assassins, rangers, maidens, spellcasters and freelancers, foreign exiles, disgraced knights, all sorts of flavor and styles of people and combat specialists littered these tables; laughing, heckling, speaking, and making many arrays of denizen noises.
Hmm…though, she had yet to spot anything as absurd as that Sapphire adventurer whom she had seen so many months ago…hmm…rather mundane everyone here seemed to be comparatively, yet also…interesting in different ways; albeit, all she truly saw was…just different shades of primitiveness, the fine details being largely missed.
Hmm…she noticed among these denizens around, ladies…very specific looking ladies. She counted no more than seven in total; one located in the social hub’s counter, two located in the main counter area, the rest…scattered about doing…whatever chores and tasks were necessary to maintain and operate this facility, some exiting and entering through those doors around, all standardized and uniformed, professionalized…though with some divergences.
These must be the Guild ‘receptionists’ of this facility, the administrative operating staff. She had heard of these ‘receptionists’ before, as quite a many of adventurers who would actually show up to that former tavern of hers…tended to never shut-up about them. Always lamenting about their inability to engage in reproductive compactive agreements with them or whatever.
The Guild receptionists were the predominate face of the Adventurers’ Guild and were—as with the rest of the Guild and its general aesthetics—unmistakable to these lands. Always women, they were…one of the few occupations in these lands that were exclusive to women and carried social dignity and pride—having been trained, educated, and professionalized by the Guild’s administration directly, they were some of the most educated people in these lands, let alone ladies.
Their uniform was rather peculiar and Guild-specific, donning a moderately fancy skirted-vested-suit of sorts, it was somewhat hard to describe given the divergence in dresswear in comparison to the rest of these lands.
White sleeves that hinted at a white-colored underlayer worn underneath a formal colored-vest donned along an equally formal suit-skirt of sorts, which was either colored identically to the vest or was simply black, and worn with black leggings or ‘pantyhose’ or some sort of similar relevant undercovering, in addition to black leathery heels.
Additionally, they seemed to have a ‘medallion’ or an ‘amulet’ or something similarly fancy…which was not worn as much as it was affixed to their collar and vest, differing in fanciness, theme, and color—a designator of position and rank, seemingly.
‘Formal’, ‘professional’, ‘bureaucratic’, ‘custodian’, all such related descriptors and indexes could be invoked; an aesthetic which stood in stark contrast to the majority of feminine clothing in these lands, even those associated with ‘officiality’ and ‘formality’.
As with the rest of the Guild, this style of dresswear was one that seemed vaguely ‘Far Western’, and likewise as with the rest of the Guild, paradoxically seemed far more ‘Far Western’ than even the Far West itself—as if it were something straight from their future intermixed with local fantastical elements and ‘Guild’ flavor.
Such a contrast their attire was that even the foreigner herself…could immediately tell that there was a potent incongruency between this Guild and the rest of these lands’ aesthetics…at least relative to what she had seen so far. It was as if she had just stepped into a different locality entirely, quite frankly.
However, one…rather mundane…detail which stuck out the most to the foreigner’s analyzing eyes was…oddly enough…their vests, or rather their vests’ color. The two receptionists stationed in the main counter area had…dark-blue colored vests, the other receptionists scattered about had…light-blue colored vests, and the receptionist stationed within the social hub counter area…had a red colored vest.
It was rather clear…that the vest’s color was likely a designator of sorts for ‘role’ or ‘branch’ or ‘type’ or something similar—their designated job in other words.
This rather mundane detail was interesting to the foreigner because it was one that was rather…familiar; uniform color was used as a similar designator for her and those she was associated with. Thus, it was…interesting to see a local apparatus utilize a similar ‘department’ designation mechanism.
Hmm…indeed, this place…felt somewhat familiar in such ways, the ‘professionalized’ and standardized feelings in the air around…‘utilitarian’ and ‘pragmatic’ in many ways. Yet, it was still rather alien despite these illusions of familiarity. ‘Colorful complexity’…indeed, such was a sense she was getting…almost as if complexity for the sake of complexity, maybe not in aesthetics but certainly in organization.
“…oh hey! Hello you!” so greeted loudly with a smiling charm from the main counter area near yet afar; waving her hand away in delighted glee at the foreigner, who had spent that last few dozen seconds staring and peering around, was a main counter receptionist, no longer preoccupied with another adventurer and their whatever-problems and was now seemingly alone as her other…had went off for some other affair.
“A new face…or erm…masquerade I see! I am sorry I did not notice you there for a second!” she added further with rather the smiling charm…a somewhat…familiar smiling charm, one often donned by the foreigner herself…albeit this one was perhaps more genuine and sincere.
The foreigner stared…somewhat blankly…her mind having become perhaps too distracted. She relaxed her face…donning her usual cordial charm and smile, before she promptly began to make way.
