Urban Knight - Return of Legends

After a quick ride by car, during which Ascalon marveled at almost everything he saw, the group escorting him arrived at the gates of a colossal establishment. It was the size of a castle, lit up in colors from one end to another, and surrounded by floating screens displaying varying descriptions, alerts, and other information.

The headquarters served as a command center for coordination, monitoring, and the relaying of information for both Guilds and the Defense Force. Therefore, the building itself was clad in steel plating and surrounded by towering walls, automated weapons, and fortifications put in place to give off a sense of security and hope—a last bastion built for times of catastrophes.

The courtyard itself was so vast it had to be traveled in a vehicle, and many different people could be seen going in and out of the main doors even that late into the night. It was truly a sight to behold, and Ascalon was simply awestruck as he tried to not press his face to the car’s window.

It didn’t take long for them to get authorization and enter the premises, riding seamlessly to the building’s entrance.

“Alright, get out!” Exclaimed the Sergeant from the front passenger seat, while looking back at Ascalon. The knight fiddled a few seconds with the door and learned how to open it, without breaking it in the process. It was a huge improvement from the door he had destroyed at The Chalice.

As he stepped out of the vehicle, his senses were overwhelmed both by strong presences, many voices and discussions, varying unknown sounds from consoles and machinery, and the blinding lights that illuminated the area.

While he gathered his bearings, a woman with long, brown hair approached him in a rush. “Mr. Ascalon, I assume.” She talked in a courteous manner while Ascalon glanced at her.

She wore a stern expression and a pair of thick glasses in front of her sharp eyes. Atop her head rested a black beret, which matched with the rest of her attire: a blazer of the same color atop a white shirt, and a short skirt, also black.

She stood straight before him, giving off an air of meticulous seriousness. “Please, follow me.” Added the woman, as she turned around and entered the building once more, her heels tapping the immaculate tiles of the main hall.

Ascalon couldn’t even answer before she started moving, so he simply crossed the doorway after her.

Inside, the facility looked even more incredible. Transparent displays floated everywhere, some showed various news, or relayed messages to the workers. Lots of different people could be seen going around, distinguishable by their uniforms and racial traits. Many tapped the air in front of floating screens, others rested on benches, or talked to each other.

It was bustling with life, a notorious contrast to the royal courts he was used to, where nobles mumbled before kings and knights kept quiet for the most part. After all, that was the closest thing he could compare it to. But before he got lost in his admiration for the place, the brown-haired woman looked at him with strict, furrowed brows, urging him to keep the pace.

They walked through a few corridors the size of entire houses, adorned with countless doors on either side. He glanced at some of them as he walked, seeing plaques that read their descriptions, such as ‘Research’, ‘Strategy A’, and other things he couldn’t decipher the meaning of.

Ascalon was thrilled by the sense of adventure that came from being in an unknown world, it was a feeling of excitement that he hadn’t felt in his past travels. He was brought back to reality by the woman, who stopped a few steps before him and turned to point to a door.

“Please, wait in this room. A coordinator will soon arrive to meet you.” She expressed, maintaining her professional tone. Ascalon glanced at the description beside the room, which read ‘Coordination - Briefing’.

Before the woman could leave, Ascalon bowed courteously and took the chance to finally speak to her. “You have my thanks. Farewell.” His old-fashioned show of gratitude surprised her a bit, but she nodded in appreciation and promptly walked away. She seemed like a busy woman, and it made sense since she worked in such a place.

Ascalon watched the nameless girl go, and proceeded to enter the room. The walls surrounding him were painted with a soft blue, and a single window faced a side of the courtyard. There was a table in the middle, surrounded by four chairs, and there were some screens and other objects near the entrance.

He pondered for a moment, and moved over to the table, taking a seat on the opposite side of the room. That way, he could easily greet whoever came in! But minutes passed, and although many people seemed to walk through the hall, no one entered. He even started to doze off, a little.

Meanwhile, back at The Chalice, a crestfallen Lilithra sat at the bar counter, absentmindedly tracing circles with her finger on the rim of a glass, with a sullen expression on her face. At her side, Selorien looked over with a fed-up stare.

“Come on, stop sulking and go to sleeeeep~.” Said the elf, dragging his words thanks to his own exhaustion. Lilithra left the glass alone and shifted on her seat to face her friend.

“But! But! I’m so worried! And what if they snatch him away from us!” She exclaimed, teary-eyed. It wasn’t every day that Lilithra got so attached to someone, so Selorien was actually touched by the situation. But… he was so damn tired, too.

He sighed heavily, and put both hands on her shoulders, looking at her right in the eyes. “Listen, you don’t have anything to worry about—he’s no lost puppy, alright? And I wanna sleep!” He spoke with strictness, and she nodded shyly a few times.

“We’ll see him tomorrow, we promised!” He added, his voice firm yet gentle, and these words seemed to reassure her. She smiled softly, and nodded once again.

“...Also, we have to talk to the Guildmaster tomorrow, too… so we better take a good rest.” This time, his words weighed more heavily, as he was already feeling how bothersome that would be. Lilithra, too, made a reluctant expression and groaned.

Back in the aftermath of the battle, their Guildmaster had let them go to rest without making a fuss or asking many questions—a nice gesture, of course, but it just meant that he expected all of the details the next day.

Both friends looked at each other in understanding, and got up. Selorien waved at the silent Raphael behind the counter, who, though reading a bundle of papers, waved back anyway. It was a good thing the master of The Chalice wasn’t aware of what had happened, or he would have raised hell about it.

Leaving these thoughts behind, Selorien tiredly headed for the exit. “See’ya tomorrow Lil, Uncle.” He exclaimed with as much cheerfulness as he could, and as his figure left the doorway, a cheery voice followed after him.

“Night!” With these parting words, Lilithra headed to the second floor, waving at Raphael as he stretched his arms and prepared to close up shop.

Each step of the stairs felt like a bigger hurdle than the last for the tired girl. It was way too late to take a shower or even to brush her teeth, and her body was completely drained either way. She simply beelined straight to her room, not bothering to even turn the lights on when she closed the door behind her. Stumbling through the darkness, with all of her might, she finally collapsed onto her bed.

Fumbling around the sheets, she found one of her favorite plushies and hugged it tight, as she wondered how Ascalon fared. With memories of the day racing through her mind, her consciousness slowly drifted into sleep.

At around the same time, Ascalon woke up. He seemed to have fallen asleep for a couple of seconds, tiredness catching up to him. His rest was interrupted by the sound of the door being finally opened.

A man in sophisticated attire looked at him with a surprised expression, perhaps not expecting to encounter his visitor in such a deplorable state. He smiled and deftly bowed, his short brown hair bouncing softly with the motion.

“Hello, Mr. Ascalon. My name is Ron Redslate, and I’m in charge of your coordination.” He looked very confident and similar in age to Raphael. But who knew which race he belonged to, so maybe he was actually way older.

The man was wearing a pristine white suit, accompanied by pants and shoes of the same color, and a black tie—a pretty striking style of fashion. His face also sported a well-cared-for mustache, and his smile was bright as a light pole. Ascalon thought that by Ron’s demeanor, in his world he could easily pass as a cunning merchant.

Ascalon stood up, and returned the bow with one of his own, as he began to introduce himself. “My name is Ascalon Rendland, it is an honor to meet you, sir Ron Redslate.” His words carried respect and firmness, something the other man seemed to appreciate.

This time around, Ascalon decided to skip his titles and the flair of his greeting, as he had realized throughout the day that it was a bit of an outlandish presentation in this new world.

Ron smiled and promptly approached the table, taking a seat opposite to Ascalon, who followed suit and sat once again. Then, the man in the suit began to fiddle with his fingers in the air, a motion the knight was getting accustomed to watching.

“I’m sure you’re tired, so let’s go straight to the… hmm? Seems like you’ve already been invited to the network, huh? This saves a bit of time.” Said the man with a hint of suspicion behind his words.

It wasn’t usual for wanderers to be invited to the Gifted network before reaching headquarters, as it was part of the commonly agreed protocol.

But, though wrong this time, he knew some Guilds were going to take advantage of situations like this, so there was nothing he could do about it now. Ascalon remained silent, unsure if explaining what had happened would put Lilithra in a tough spot.

“Well then, let’s skim over some of the basics just in case, okay?” Ron’s words brought him back to attention, and he listened as the man explained some things to keep in mind.

Most of the information was already provided to him by Lilithra and Selorien earlier, so he simply nodded in understanding after every point, until new details started to come up.

“...As I mentioned, Guilds are independent organizations. They handle various threats, ranging from monster hunting, exploration of ruins and portals, to dealing with troublemakers and so on. They’re ranked based on their success rate, wealth, and power of their members.” He paused, letting Ascalon absorb the information.

It was similar to what Lilithra had told him before, but Ron approached the matter in a more thorough way, as it was part of his job.

Ron cleared his throat, and proceeded with his explanation. “The Defense Force, the people that brought you here, are in charge of coordinating large-scale evacuations, defensive perimeters, and assisting Guilds during specific crises. Contrary to Guilds, the Defense Force serves the government.” He explained, as he fiddled with his fingers in the air, his eyes darting around as if he was reading from a book.

Ascalon nodded, understanding the information clearly, and Ron continued. “Although the Guilds and the Defense Force commonly cooperate, you have to understand that there’s more to that beyond the surface. Some Guilds distance themselves from ‘official’ matters and rather do things on their own… as you might’ve experienced.” This time, Ron was referring to Ascalon’s encounter with the Flaming Fists.

“But at least, you had only Rosco to deal with. There are other, more powerful people in that Guild.” With these words, Ascalon showed a confused expression.

Only Rosco? He had to ask, to make sure. “If we are talking about battle prowess, there was one more—’Moleman’, as he was called by this Rosco fellow.” Hearing that name, Ron raised an eyebrow in suspicion. He gazed into his interface, and looked puzzled.

“There’s no mention of any Moleman in the Flaming Fist’s roster, nor in the report I received… Maybe it’s a pseudonym, or a nickname? Hmm… What happened to him?” He asked, looking Ascalon in the eye.

The knight recalled what had happened, and recounted it to Ron. The black goo that had appeared and swallowed Moleman’s body, after his demise at Selorien’s skilful assassination.

Ron listened intently as he rubbed his mustache, his expression a somber one. He was fiddling with his screen constantly, taking notes or perhaps searching for more data about that mysterious Moleman.

“Thank you for the intel, we’ll look into this matter.” He spoke firmly, as he focused his gaze on the knight once again.

Just remembering the situation made Ascalon sigh in exhaustion, and Ron took it as a chance to pause the conversation briefly. “Would you like something to drink?” He asked, to which Ascalon nodded. He was feeling a bit parched, to be honest.

The man got up, and walked to one of the machines Ascalon had seen when he entered, near the doorway. Then, he saw as Ron produced a white cup from the air, and put it in a compartment. Moments later, the object came to life, making some artificial but soothing sounds.

Soon, an aroma he didn’t recognize filled the air, and Ron approached him once again, setting the cup before him. Ascalon gazed at the contents, watching a black, bubbling substance fill the recipient.

It smelled great, but it looked… vile, so he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “This is one of mankind’s greatest gifts upon this world: Coffee.” Said Ron, his smile sparkling. The smell alone was convincing, so he decided to drink it.

After all, he had numerous poison resistances in case of situations like this. He grabbed the cup, and put it to his lips.

A bitter but curious taste filled his mouth, as he gulped down the liquid without stopping. It was hot, too, and his insides filled with warmth as the ‘coffee’ coursed through.

“Hmmm! Not bad, thank you kindly.” Ascalon stated with a satisfied expression, as Ron sat again, his smile turning into a more serious look as he prepared to keep explaining things.

“Well then. In order to avoid situations like the one today, we try to integrate wanderers, such as you, in Guilds that suit their needs, personalities, or simply their taste in companionship.” Ron paused, once again, putting both elbows on the table and interlocking his fingers.

“By joining a Guild, we can ensure that you can adapt quicker to your new surroundings. They’ll provide not only shelter, but also information, equipment, a stable income, and also help you from being hounded by other organizations.” Ascalon had already grasped that wanderers were quite the asset to these Guilds, so it was to be expected that competition would give rise to conflict.

“Of course, you’ll be of great help to the Guild you decide to join, so we would recommend some of the most… cooperative ones, so to say.” The knight understood that Ron meant Guilds pretty much the opposite of the ones like The Flaming Fists.

Ron cleared his throat, and many screens appeared in front of Ascalon. They all showed different names, and many small pictures of people. Appraising these closely, he could tell they were Guild’s names, member photos, and other various info.

“We at Headquarters would like to recommend you to any of these, they’re-” He began to explain, but his words were cut short by Ascalon, who raised a hand to signal him to stop.

“I am grateful for your concern and for all this information, but I will not be joining a Guild for now.” Ron looked confused, thinking that maybe he had offended the knight in some way. Why would he reject such an opportunity?

After a brief moment of pondering, he asked cautiously. “May I ask, why? I mean… It’s not unheard of, but it would be unwise to let you loose on your own. We don’t know how different your world’s rules are to ours, and we need to prioritize the safety of the citizens above all else.” He spoke in a serious tone, his expression inquisitive and firm. His concern made most sense, and Ascalon understood it clearly.

Yet, Ascalon smiled softly, as he recalled two distinct faces in his mind. “It just so happens that the Guild I want to join… has not been formed yet.” He added with vagueness, as he was the only one to fully comprehend the meaning behind these words.