Mage stone- a magically conductive rock created by the suffusing of magic into ancient metamorphic rocks like marble, granite or obsidian. Its ability to absorb ambient mana makes it a choice material for use by enchanters especially when crafting basic items that do not require complex runecraft.

Catalogue of Inventory for Yondouk's Magical Emporium of Arcane and Mundane Goods

In the wee hours of the Erythean morning before feral owlcats had yet to go back to their diurnal slumber; before the creatures, people and not, that went bump in the night were about to steal away after having a tryst in the tenebrous cloak of the lover that was night, a pair of shadows shed the two travelers held within.

They were similarly dressed in dark outfits that would not have been suited to working under the cover of darkness but they were anything but nefarious characters. For one, for what use would an assassin have of a sword almost as tall as themselves, or a shield for that matter? Secondly, well’ they were not trying to hide their presence;

“Are you okay Snow? You seem to have pushed yourself far this time,” said the man, surveying the surroundings they’d landed on. There was no traffic, animals or hominids on the roadway.

“I’m fine; I’ll recover my mana, it’s still dark out,” replied his shorter companion in a smoky voice. Her voice still retained its feminine allure and would not have sounded out of place coming from a stage singer.

“If you say so; you didn’t have to throw us out this far you know; three consecutive warps were no joke,” he admonished in a gravelly voice.

“I still can’t get used to the way we sound Red. You for one sound like what a sand golem would sound like if they had lungs while I sound like a victim of smoke inhalation.” She giggled, voice coming out distorted from the mask covering the lower half of her face.

“Still lovely though; they work like a charm. We have to get a move on, wouldn’t want to miss the early morning rush for job postings.” Arthur alias Red commented as they started walking towards the direction of the town.

“What about the guards at the gate?” the Nora alias Snow enquired, catching up to his longer strides.

“Don’t worry, we accounted for that, the golems already have our mana signatures. Plus, we’ll just flash our guild badges and go in through the adventurer’s gate.”

“Adventurers have their own gate?”

“Yep, the Guild’s guidebook says so. It also says that all adventurers should openly display their badges in public places whenever they are armed. I didn’t know you had a pair of daggers; they look rogue like.” Arthur said, as he looked over his companion’s daggers.

They looked like fangs extracted from the maw of a giant serpent and their cutting edges had reverse barbs diagonal to the fuller. Thrusts would go in smoothly but the amount of damage they would inflict on their way out was bound to be horrendous. Arthur winced, feeling sorry for whoever would get that weapon sunk into them.

“I’ve always had these daggers for as long as I have known “she said, unsheathing them with nary a whisper of metal. Because they weren’t metal—they were teeth! And they seemed to absorb the darkness around them, radiating their mana, like wispy smoke wafting off dark dry ice.

“Dangerous,” Arthur remarked, he put one step ahead of the next. He had his head on a swivel, who knew what kind of characters were still around before daybreak? “What animal were they taken from?”

“Ender’s Hydra,” she replied smokily.

“Uh, that’s rather ominous,” said Arthur squinting against the sky as he saw an aership descending from within the cloud cover. It had lux crystals lining its underbelly like glow worms but there was no high beam, under carriage or landing lights on the thing. This was not that world.

‘They fly at night too? Must be some daredevils with the low visibility.’

“It is—” she giggled, voice pitching like a temptress.

‘Yea that’s not ominous at all; you sound like a villain; maybe these masks were a bit over the top.’

“Mind telling me why it’s called an Ender’s hydra?”

‘Whoa, I don’t know if I even want to know—’

“You didn’t find it in the bestiary?”

“Eh, there’s a lot of monsters from indexes A to E ha-ha; I didn’t even reach C.”

“I’ll tell you then,” She let out an exhale; which sounded like a raspy echo through the respirator-like mask. The respirator valves were not that big even; they didn’t protrude outwards like their earth counterparts; rather they were only a coin stack thick flush with the mask itself.

‘Like some masks during the pandemic,’ he thought.

“According to nobody in particular—”

Arthur crinkled his eyebrows. She let out a breathy, smokey laugh.

“Oh, please let me have fun with them; once we start adventuring we’re going to be all cold and callous like a pair of Knights of the Even Tide.”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying dark knight?”

“Nooo…it’s a real order of Knights,” she retorted. “So as I was saying, Ender’s hydra is rumored to be more of a serpent with ultra-regeneration instead of a hydra but the name just stuck because it is as deadly as one—“

“ Mmh?—”

“Also called the Dead End hydra; the name came about because, once it bit you, you were going to wish you died…”

“And why might that be?” Arthur asked, as the walls became distinct over the foggy morning.

“Because its Nox attuned poison corrodes you from the inside out. It is even said to feed on your mana. The less of it you have the less a chance you have to fight the venom.”

“Oh…”

“That’s why people kill themselves or ask others to kill them because the pain is too unbearable. Only a healer who has Nox-affinity can purge the toxin…even then, they’ll be in a battle with poisonous mana,” her crimson eyes glinted beneath her cowl. “And thaaaat…is why it’s called Dead End…or Ender’s Hydra”

Goosebumps definitely rippled across Arthur’s skin, and it was not because of the morning chill.

Before they knew it they had neared the gates. There was a notable number of farmers with fresh produce in their carts on the main gate that catered to drawn vehicles. There were two other wrought iron gates which looked like blast doors flanking the middle one; the left one was devoid of people—this was the one used for adventurers.

Arthur pulled down the hood of his Nightstalker’s cloak to cover up his hair. Ensemble completed, he was now Red the adventurer.

“Hoy there, early morning eh?” called out a fresh guard; this one was part of the morning shift. Aldmoor took its security very seriously because it was closest to dawn when guards were lax from sitting through the night.

Arthur grunted; Red was a cold no nonsense adventurer who didn’t have to talk when he didn’t have to; he felt sorry for the guard but this was a persona he needed to cultivate.

“Eh, not one for words are you?” The guard chuckled nervously. He noticed the masks. “Oh, my apologies good man, you’re an adventurer aren’t you; can I see your identification?”

“KingsFell,” he rasped as he handed over his guild badge; Nora scuttled closer and handed hers too. Behind the guard, a lumbering giant of stone made his appearance and stood there watching like a sentinel. Its crystals passed over them, twinkling and blinking as the tell-tale activation of [Identify] passed over them.

They held their collective breaths; it returned to its station— they’d passed.

“You’re far from home base for sure, er…Steel rankers Red Twilight and Snow the White?” the guard’s face scrunched up as if dubious about the details on the badges. He looked to his partner made of stone who just flashed their crystals in a pattern.

“Ah, you’ve been here before…welcome back to Aldmoor sir…ma’am” he beamed as he returned their badges. They both nodded to him and passed through the gate.

‘That guard must have dealt with scarier adventurers for sure.’ Arthur shrugged on his way in with Nora behind him.

‘And what’s with the second names? Snow the White really?’

The last time they’d passed through the gate, Nevine, their liaison, had commandeered a guild carriage to fetch them after their interviews by the Guard. Save for when they went around the town getting things for the house, they’d largely kept to themselves. Apart from the seamstresses’, the ‘magic mall’ as he liked to call it and the merchant’s bank where he’d paid off the mortgage, everywhere else in the town was a new place.

The guild also didn’t count because he’d been there for tea and a closed door meeting the day before. Also, Nora had gotten acquainted with Griffin’s Roost which they were just now passing. The door to the inn was already open and the inn-keeper could be seen bustling around his table, readying them for the morning rush. He looked rather glum; Nora stared at him pitifully as they passed by.

They made it to the guild meeting sparse traffic early in the morning. The only carriages on the main streets were again, farmer’s wagons; even the public transport run by centaurs had yet to start plying their routes. The first bell had yet to ring, so it was probably the 6th quart thereabouts or 6 am Erythean time.

‘Ugh so confusing!’ Arthur grimaced at the time convention. He really, really needed to find an artificer or horologist to get it fixed; did they even have those here? Maybe, sure they had clocks right? How hard could a watch be? It was just a miniaturized clock…or not.

A tug at his sleeve broke him out of his ruminations as they stepped onto the guild’s front door. The main doors of the guild were like the smaller gate they’d passed through. They were arched and ostensibly made from a hard wood with studded bracing like the entrance to a gothic castle. Their gigantic size meant that magic had to open and close them so while they were open, a saloon door that was about Arthur’s waist level provided the barest privacy.

Like a western flick, the two members of Twilight entered the guild cast their eyes around not meeting any particular adventurer’s gaze and went to the reception desk. There were a few early birds at this time; understandable because most jobs got picked up on the first day of the week, Oon’sday—which was yesterday.

It meant that the two would have less encounters for a pissing contest; a common staple between male adventurers to see who stayed where on the totem pole. Though those were rare around these parts unless someone was inebriated—those who drowned in their drink always tried to compensate for something. Case in point, a certain Quinten Genzeiros, who, supposedly recuperating, was nursing a bottle for breakfast.

Tending the desk was the resident socialite Hanna Lalilab who looked peppy despite the time. Nevine was nowhere to be seen, perhaps on another shift; there were three more receptionists manning other desks, sorting through job requests or processing completed ones before the day started in earnest.

Guild regulations dictated that when reporting to a town different from their home base or taking requests in another town; adventurers were supposed to sign in so that the Guild could keep track of where they were.

“Mornin’ how can I help you mister and miss?”

“Signing in,” Arthur alias Red supplied in his filtered voice as he handed her his badge and Nora’s.

“Owh, welcome to Aldmoor,” said Hanna. She retrieved a large stack of bound parchment; the guild register or log and opened a new leaf. She took their badges and scritched their details and returned them with a professional smile. Then she turned the register to allow them to provide their signatures.

It is there and then that Quinten Genzeiros scumbag extraordinaire decided to make his entrance. He pretended to trip over his own feet, knocked onto Arthur expecting him to stumble—and was promptly rebuffed falling onto his butt with along with his booze.

The offender and offended stared at one another. One was shocked he’d hit a wall; another was surprised that he was that strong. Perhaps Arthur’s body was finally catching up to his strength. He knew the person who’d tried bowling him over was due for a Steel rank badge but it was pending following the dungeon incident but even then, he had to be somewhere in the upper levels of Silver rank.

Did the guild master actually measure his relative strength with that handshake during that first encounter after all? It was all coming together; their placement in Steel rank was no fluke or some random selection just because the rank fell somewhere in the middle.

“Scum,” Nora or rather, Snow coldly rebuked the drunk as she cast a purge spell to clean the alcohol that had spilled onto her partner’s front. Quinten withered under Nora’s wintry gaze and remained rooted to the floor.

For the first time ever, Arthur felt Nora’s bloodlust aimed at someone. A pair of well-meaning adventurers promptly dragged him away from them with profuse apologies. Nora huffed; the sound coming through her filters as a blizzard rolling across the tundra.

“My apologies Mister Red; Miss Snow. I assure you he is not an example of what Aldmoor’s adventurers are like,” Hanna bowed in an expression of regret.

“Not a problem,” Arthur grunted indifferently, acting his stoic persona.

“I know—” Hanna chirped, not at all intimidated by the duo’s cold demeanor. “As apologies we shall offer you the freshest pick of Steel rank jobs we have.” She looked to the adventurers who were waiting for the morning’s job requests; finding none who raised a protest, she went to one of her colleagues who’d seen everything and got the job request slip.

“Here we have—,” she read from the slip, “a ground dire hog extermination request at a giantkin farm. Request is pegged as urgent and the reward is a five gold coins for the first ten then increments of a silver each for every additional dire hog killed—”

“We accept,” said Nora. She received the request slip from the girl receptionist.

“Would you like some recommendations for an inn? Assuming you haven’t gotten one seeing as you just got here?”

“We’ll be fine; our thanks guild receptionist Hanna,” Nora answered for them. They turned heel and exited the guild building, ascending the two or so stairs that leveled the Guild with the street before turning towards the direction of the gate.

“Directions?” Arthur inquired.

Nora looked at the slip detailing the particulars of their job. “Beyond the gate we came through, a left…half a bell if we use your hoverboard.”

“Thirty par’quarts,” Arthur grunted through his mask.

They exited the gate, finding the guard who’d attended to them earlier who nodded in acknowledgement as they passed through; then when they were clear of prying eyes, Arthur got the hoverboard from its harnesses on his back and they zoomed off.