[Closed] [Social] A Cathedral and its Promise of Hope

[Deleted]

Words: 514
Total: 514
Tags: @dumah

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A few days after his first mission as a cleric Ciriodhûl had finally made up his mind. The short time he had spent with Zyoto had opened his eyes. To be specific, he had realized that the way of living in this world she had chosen was what he wanted to escape. “Dumah Iino”, he mumbled the name of the guild master the assassin had mentioned multiple times. “I have to make sure not to slip up and mention the true story behind me knowing him.” Inside the cave he had deduced that the elven woman was in hiding and after they had parted he could not help himself but to believe she was hiding from the same guy she sent him to. Been driven into such a complicated relationship he had been afraid to talk to Dumah until he had overheard a rumor yesterday about him having bought the cathedral. “Okay, I shall do this as planned: When he asks from whom I know that he spends a lot of his time in the cathedral, I’ll just make the rumor responsible.”

While he played through all possible situations the guild master might get him into he could imagine, he walked absent-mindedly through Londinium’s streets. It was a nice day and the streets were busy, so that it did not take long until he bumped into a woman carrying a box of apples across the street. She immediately lost her balance and fell on her knees. It seemed that Frowin, his real world equivalent, had taken over Ciriodhûl’s body and it took some time to recover his composure. “I am deeply sorry, m’lady. May I carry your apples to their destination to make up for it?”, he said smoothly while bowing as deeply as he was able to. When he finally looked up again the woman had disappeared. He sighed. “I just wanted to lighten the mood… although the offer was meant seriously.”

The remaining part of the way he paid a lot more attention to his surroundings in order that he would not physically bump into a person again. He watched the people of the land attending to their business with the adventurers and watched the adventurers hurrying from one point to the other. If everything went fine today he would soon be a part of it. At least he would not be as lonely anymore; hurrying from one point to the other was not his style. He preferred walking gently. When Westminster Abbey, Londinium’s cathedral, came into sight, he stopped for a moment. “One can say what one wants, but cathedrals are always majestic.”, he thought and hastened his walk. At the front door he placed his head on the neck impressed by the building’s height. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage and knocked on the two huge entrance doors. Nothing happened. On second thought: Why should something happen? It was still a cathedral. With this thought he carefully opened one door and stepped in.

“I am sorry to be a bother, but is Dumah Iino, the guildmaster, currently present?”

[Deleted]

"Look, Dumah... I ask this as your friend, not as your guild member, but... What in the living hell are you doing exactly...?" The handsome barkeep asked, his glaring eyes piercing through the mountain of books the guild master had surrounded himself with to stare directly at the man, Aleister's cigarette loosely held in his mouth, unlit as he knew how much the others loathed the putrid air.

Dumah paid the man little attention, his eyes glued to the pages as they skimmed through all of the words in sight. "Researching..." It was an uncharacteristically short answer from the overly eloquent young man, and as he flipped a page, Aleister couldn't help but feel his eyebrow twitch in agitation.

He felt himself breathing a bit heavier, ever so slightly, keeping himself refined. "No shit, Mr. Holmes, so what, pray tell, are you researching exactly? You had me up all night with you to help, but I didn't do a damn thing!"

"I am trying to find any information regarding a possible event." Dumah sighed, tossing his current tome to the side, setting it on top of a stack of other volumes. "If you are tired, you may go rest. Sorry to have wasted your night, Aleister." With his apology out of the way, Dumah reached for and opened another book: the Encyclopaedia Londinnica, a reference encyclopedia compiled and published by a skilled Scribe. In a world without the conveniences of the Information Age, having such a resource was truly invaluable.

Sighing and shaking his head a bit, Aleister pulled up a seat across from the guild master. "No, no... I'm already up, so going to bed at this hour would just throw off my internal clock..." He reached his arms high above his head, stretching hard before tilting his head to the left and right, cracking it. "So what's this event, exactly?" He inquired, seemingly curious. Of course, it could have just as likely been a way to keep himself awake after such a long night.

Not pulling his gaze from his volume, Dumah spoke in more complete sentences, as per his usual. "I have heard rumors of a so called 'Hero,' an archer in a red cloak whose identity is unknown. The city seems to have taken a bit of a liking to her mysterious nature and granted her the name Red Whirlwind. From what I have heard of him, I wonder if it is perhaps some event inspired by the legend of Robin Hood."

Raising an eyebrow and playing with the rolled up paper in his mouth, the barkeep looked at the man with evident confusion in his eyes. Judging by the look on his face, he was unfamiliar with the aforementioned legend. "Robin Hood?"

Dumah nodded, flipping a page and skimming over everything in the book he had in his hands. "Yes, Robin Hood was a nobleman who fell from nobility and became a thief. Of course, Robin Hood was unlike most common pickpockets; this man stole from the rich and gave to the poor, and was said to be a master with a bow and arrow."

The handsome young man across from the guild master was clearly intrigued, raising both eye brows in interest as he leaned forward to show his attention was on the story. "So you think the Red Whirlwind is our Hood, is that it?"

It was a plausible enough situation, and in response the guild master gave a nod. "Yes. If such is the case, then it is possible that-" He began, his words interrupted as the familiar game interface made itself known, popping up in front of Dumah in the center of his vision.

Noticing his old friend's rather sudden silence and deadpan stare straight through him, Aleister raised an eye brow in curiosity and confusion. "Something up, Dumah?"

He nodded, speaking whilst reading the notification that had popped up for the Spellsword to read. "Seems someone's entered the guild hall..."

Aleister sighed, leaning back in his chair and getting comfortable - a feat he still had never learned to accomplish in the anachronistically refined modern bean bag chairs Sark had tailored for the guild. "I take it you don't know this intruder personally. Think it's a friend of a Noiharan? Maybe one of Adolf's crew?"

Dumah could not help but hold his chin as he pondered the possibilities. Most friends of the guild's members would not enter unannounced, and while he was confident it was not the latter, he had not seen any recent activity from his Wolf Hair nemesis. "According to the intruder notification, this player is low leveled. Adolf and his crew were around level thirty eight last we encountered them, so I doubt this person has any affiliation with the Monk." With all of the proposed possibilities shot down, Dumah closed his large encyclopedia and put it down, pushing himself up from his seat. "Why don't I go find out?" With that he walked from the reading table of the library, leaving a disorderly disparity of tomes and volumes on the surface just as he had plenty times before, then pushed open the large doors leading out into the massive palace-like corridors of Westminster Abbey, heading down to the wide open foyer where the unknown intruder awaited any company. "Hello, there. My name is Dumah Iino, Guild Master of Noihara. Can I help you?"

Words: 896 | Total Words: 896
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

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Words: 506
Total: 1020
Tags: @dumah
Notes: "The city seems to have taken a bit of a liking to her mysterious nature and granted her the name Red Whirlwind. From what I have heard of him, I wonder if it is perhaps some event inspired by the legend of Robin Hood." - Did you intend to use her or him here? The use of male and female pronouns kinda confuses me.

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The moment Ciriodhûl closed the door again he realized how foolish his question had been. He had awaited the wide halls of a cathedral. Instead he now stood in a foyer; a wide one at least, but nothing like the nave leading to an altar, which would have been typical for a church. “Of course.” The scales fell from his eyes. “In this world this is a guild mansion and not particularly a house of god… Well… But what do I do now?” He almost expected that a butler or a maid would show up any second now, what, of course, did not happen. The silence weighed down on him and self-doubt began to grow inside his chest. Was it really a good idea to just stumble into the mansion of one of Londinium’s most well-known guilds and ask for the guild master? “Calm down, Frowin. It is still somehow a game, and the guild master is still somehow a gamer. She told you that those ancient manners are not necessary”, he mumbled to himself in order to relax a bit. “Nevertheless”, his roleplaying side told him, “I shall be respectful. When things go bad and I won’t be able to join Noihara I can still apply for being the housekeeper of this place, or both.”

Wanting to make a good first impression he stayed in the foyer and waited patiently for someone to come. He had arranged himself in such a manner and place in the hall that he would be able to detect any movement into the foyer immediately. He had not waited a long time until he heard steps echoing from one of the corridors leading to the entrance room. He was welcomed by a man of an oddly similar appearance to his own. They were of the exact same height and both wore their hair pulled into a ponytail. Needless to say, he was better dressed than his cleric equivalent, which still wore the starter clothes. However, the hair color and eyes differentiated them. While Ciriodhûl had chosen white hair, his was black, and while the cleric had been anxious to have big open eyes, his were slightly squinty. It turned out that the gentleman in front of him was the one he wanted to speak, Dumah Iino himself, when he asked whether he could help him. Ciriodhûl naturally indicated a slight bow. “Indeed. My name’s Ciriodhûl. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I came here to ask for a favor.” He paused, closed his eyes and gently smiled for a moment. “Fact is, I am a lonely healer and housekeeper searching a guild. So I hereby offer you my loyal assistance in exchange for being able to join your guild. I mean, if the master himself has to answer the door, you are clearly in need for a butler.” He delivered the last sentence in a self-ironic undertone to indicate that he was just role playing and to break the ice, although he had not been really successful with it yet.

[Deleted]

I meant to use male pronouns. My mistake.

---

As the man bowed and introduced himself, the guild master looked him over, examining his guest. He spoke with a fairly dedicated formality in his voice, not entirely like that mannerism of Dumah's, though seemingly stronger; not by much, but just enough. Perhaps this was what it felt like to listen to Dumah and his own formality? The man introduced himself as a Cleric; judging by his metal armor, the chains draped down his slender body, the man was presumably a Paladin by build. He stated his name to be Ciriodhul, his classes being healer and Housekeeper. He claimed to come seeking a favor, though it was no real favor as much as it was simply a request. According to the guest, he was in search of a guild to join, having been alone these past few years since the Apocalypse. Dumah raised an eyebrow, a bit perplexed that Noihara was his first choice... "We are a humble guild, despite our status as one of Londinium's largest. We do not really need a butler or servant. However, we are always open to more aspiring adventurers seeking a family." The corners of the guild master's lips raised into a beautiful smile, some of his skills derived from his Courtesan subclass making them known. Despite his build as a Spellsword, it seemed the man's greatest skill was his charisma, his words and mannerisms a charming magic of their own.

With the small introductions out of the way, Dumah turned towards the grand stairwell leading up to the abbey's second floor. Turning to gaze over his shoulder at the man, the guild master spoke in an inviting tone. "Come, we can continue this discussion in my office." With that, he turned his head to look ahead of him once again, looking up where he was headed as he made his way up the grand staircase, leading up to the second story, opening a fancy wooden door leading into an office.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." The guild master held the door for the Cleric, letting him pass before walking further in, taking a seat at the oak desk that was clearly his own, an observation made evident by the documents stacked neatly by a filled inkwell holding a quill in its maw. The office was nice, but fairly humble. It surely did not meet the expectations one might hold regarding the regalia of such a high standing guild master. Curtains blocked a large window; rather, they would had they been closed. The beautiful fabrics were opened wide, bathing the room in a glow of sunlight, the rays hitting the guild master's back as he took his seat. "So tell me, what have you been doing these past few years? Someone of your level is nowhere near as common as it once was; I mean no offense, of course." The beautiful man's eyes gazed ahead at his guest, awaiting his answer. Basking in the celestial back light gave the man an appropriate air of nobility such as one may expect from the man who had claimed the very Cathedral as his guild's home.

Words: 518 | Total Words: 1414
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 530
Total: 1550
Tags: @dumah
Notes: I just pretend as if I were already able to join the guild by level. Otherwise the whole thread would make not that much sense.

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"How did you —?" Ciriodhûl bit his lip. The word “family” had almost triggered a very emotional response, although Dumah could not really know that he was indeed searching for friendship and family. “Maybe it’s the guild’s motto?”, he thought. Most of the other guilds believed themselves to be mercenaries, researchers or explorers, which had been part of his decision to not join a guild until he had found a few friends. A family of adventurers, however, sounded quite appealing. After the guild master had beautifully smiled at him – maybe a bit too beautiful – he turned to the stairwell leading to the second floor and invited Ciriodhûl to follow him in his office. “My thanks”, was the formal reply of the invited before he followed Dumah upstairs.

The office was not far; in fact was it vis-á-vis the stairs behind a nice designed wooden door. Being held the door for the cleric was asked to make himself comfortable. He passed the guild master with a short thankful nod and entered the room. It was not particularly extravagant or luxurious, albeit being obviously an office. The office’s looks further confirmed the depiction Ciriodhûl already had of Dumah and his guild. Like the guild master had stated in the foyer, this guild was definitely humble. His host took a seat at an oak desk at one side of the room and asked him about what he had done the past few years. Still looking around the cleric was caught in motion and froze. What had he done the past few years? A question he had been afraid of, not because he could not answer it, but because he was ashamed. Leisurely he turned to the desk and his host behind it, being forced by the sunlight to squint his eyes, which framed Dumah like an angel and thus gave the situation a bizarre surreality. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “I was looking for a party. Not really successful, though.” He paused to give the half-alven man an opportunity to express his disbelief. “I didn’t have a single friend playing this game, when it happened, and I was really bad at speaking to people at first. Until I grew used to it, it was too late. Since then, I am roaming Londinium and keeping myself physically and mentally afloat by randomly assisting everyone I can. Fighting and leveling alone, however…” He opened the interface to equip his staff. “… is as you can see a different story. Finally a few days ago someone requested a healer, so that I was at least able to reach the minimum level for joining a guild.”

“Dammit!”, he immediately thought, after he had reconsidered his last statement, and he barely suppressed an emotional reaction. “That might’ve been a slip-up, but when I am lucky, and I will be, he won’t ask about this someone, why would he?”

“I hope that answers your question what I had been doing the last few years.” He sighed. “But trust me. When there is something I can work for, I will be of utmost assistance.”, he added and indicated another bow. His equivalent of wholeheartedness and honesty.

[Deleted]

Inhaling deeply to calm his nerves, Ciriodhul went on to explain that for the past few years he had been seeking a group of companions with whom to go out and adventure, but to no avail. Leaned forward on his desk, hands interlocked near his chin, Dumah raised an eyebrow at this account. "Really now? That is rather peculiar; support users are usually one of the most commonly sought after companions in an MMORPG." His tone expressed a hint of surprise, but no disbelief. He would not doubt his guest's testimony so rudely. What came next was an account of such a common situation in the wake of the Apocalypse as the Cleric expressed his lack of friends and social skills in the beginning. It was a story that Dumah had heard countless times before, and one which made complete sense. He nodded in response. "I can understand that. I believe such was the case with most of us; we are gamers, a people who are not particularly known for their charisma. I was... Well, I cannot say lucky, as I was far from it, but while I had no friends from the old world alongside me in the wake of the apocalypse, I was blessed enough to be a proficient speaker, and I managed to rally many low leveled Adventurers." He smiled softly to himself, reminiscing on the days past spent with the Boston Tea Party, simultaneously listening to his guest. What he said next however caught his interest. "A single run and you managed to go up several levels? I doubt you were being powerleveled... Who was this person asking for-?"

His words were interrupted as the door opened, a young Sorceress entering the office with a smile. "We're back, dad!" She walked over to the guild master with a proud grin on her face, passing a cloak to him. "Thanks for letting me use this." She then turned to the Cleric, holding her staff at waist level in front of her. "Who's this?"

Dumah smiled as the girl entered, taking back the fancy cloak before it dissolved into game data, filling his inventory. "Welcome back, Alette. This is Ciriodhul, a Cleric. He and I were discussing his entry into Noihara."

She smiled as she examined the fellow, looking him over while speaking. "Another Cleric? So is he gonna be a student of Kat's?" Her eyes seemed to bounce between his armor and his staff curiously. "Is he a Paladin or a Priest...? I can't really tell..."

Having already lost his train of thought, Dumah sighed and chuckled a bit. "All of that is yet to be decided." Petting the girl's head as if to tell her she needed to go, she looked up at her father as he spoke. "Why don't you go see if Aleister needs you in the bar?" She smiled and nodded, heading out of the office with one last loving embrace. With the girl gone, Dumah smiled as his attention returned to his guest. "Where were we? Oh, yes! Who was this Adventurer you ran with? If the two of you alone garnered several levels worth of EXP, I am rather curious as to who this person is."

Words: 535 | Total Words: 1949
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 614
Total: 2164
Tags: @dumah
Notes: I edited my previous post. I had previously unequipped my staff there, but since Alette still saw it in your post, I now have it equipped the whole time.

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Ciriodhûl grew stiff while his upper body was still leaned forward. The man in front of him actually really asked about the person he had sworn to keep a secret. His thoughts raced. “What shall I say now? I mean, I can’t really lie, can I? That’s not good. I’ve promised, but …” Just as he was about to spill the beans the door opened behind him and a young Sorceress entered. He immediately returned to a straight composure. She seemed to be Dumah’s daughter. At least did she call him “dad”.

“Thanks for buying me some time, young lady.”, he thought, relaxed and smiled at her direction. He had always liked children. She ignored him at first and gave her father a cloak. Then she suddenly turned towards him and asked who he was. Before the cleric had an opportunity to answer, the guild master had already introduced him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”, he said and widened his smile for a short period of time. Observing the following discussion about him without interfering he just could not remove his eyes from the cute girl. A real family, something he would most likely not experience due to the fact that he was trapped in a game. However, he was neither jealous nor envious. In fact, he pitied the girl for being trapped alongside him and her father, although growing up in a game might be slightly more fun than growing up in the harsh reality of an efficiency-oriented world.

After the girl had left them alone again, Ciriodhûl had almost forgotten the casual question of the guild master which was not as casual as the cleric wanted it to be. For a moment he hoped Dumah had almost forgotten, too, and would drop the question, but was disappointed. Actually the guild master and father repeated the question more serious and precise. Still thinking about how it would be to live one’s family life in a game he remembered something Zyoto had foolishly replied after he had joked about looking after the kids. Was she Alette’s mother? His problems suddenly became more severe. “Can I really lie about her now?”, he thought. “I mean, she obviously hides from her family.” Anger grew inside his chest. How could a mother be so irresponsible? “I should just tell him, I should tell him that it was obviously his wife!”

“No”, another voice inside him said, “you promised. And you do not know the circumstances. There’s a reason she is in hiding. Just avoid it. Avoid the question.”

Calmed down he considered his options one last time and decided to not mention her at any cost, but on the other hand he would not lie to Dumah.

“I believe it had nothing to do with whom I partied with but where we went. It was a rather strange dungeon in the Windsor woods, which seems to be only accessible at midnight or so I was told. Inside we found a gem called ‘The Red Stone of Aja’ my partner needed for a quest. We encountered not that many monsters, though. Maybe the game features now some kind of level bonus for under leveled adventurers or there was some kind of bonus EXP linked to the dungeon? The adventurer I ran with, however, was someone who does not want to be mentioned. I am sorry, but I have my own little pride to be reliant in such cases.” He paused.

“So that was your daughter? You must be proud of how she’s handling the situation. How old is she and what’s about her mother? Did she play with both of you the day it happened?”

[Deleted]

As Alette left the two men to their business, so too did she take the light atmosphere with her, leaving both her father and the Cleric in an oddly tense air as the matter of the mysterious companion from Ciriodhul's past adventure was brought back up, making a terrifying return to the conversation at hand. As one might suspect, the low level Cleric would soon realize how difficult it was to lie to a Courtesan, the masters of charisma. His face spoke volumes of untold emotions whirling in the back of Ciriodhul's mind, conflicting emotions all muting him as he tried to pick and choose his words with a deliberate caution. Impressively enough, the time planning out his words was well spent, leading to a smooth recovery as he claimed that it was not with whom he partied that led to his quick boom in skill level, but rather that the catalyst was in fact the very location in which they found themselves fighting. Dumah nodded to himself as if registering what he had heard. "Yes, Kras Cave as some have come to referring it." This simple statement of knowing the very location his guest was referring to spoke volumes of his knowledge. As a guild master, Dumah had a wealth of resources at his disposal, and with it he sought knowledge, the most valuable commodity in any time and any world. "I recognize it by the name of the item you found, the Red Stone of Aja. Despite being a perfect gemstone, it is said to grant power beyond belief, but it is little more than flavor text. For us Adventurers, it practically translates to a placebo, making one believe they have the power to seek out more strength. I had heard rumors of low leveled Adventurers experiencing an impressive EXP boost after completing a quest that calls for the retrieval of the stone, but odds are it is simply a highly rewarding quest." He relaxed in his chair, recounting some details of the stone in question. "According to some, it is all one big web of references to an old comic book. I myself never read it, but it sounded interesting; however, the name escapes me right now - not that it matters. Actually, you stated that your companion is someone you swore not to reveal at their own request." With talk of the red stone behind them, the guild master's expression seemed to turn very serious. "While I can respect one's secrets, I would like to make it clear that there are no secrets between Noiharans. As I stated, we are family, but there are those we consider enemies. We would never stoop to considering you an enemy personally for simply running through a dungeon with one such person, but I can guarantee that if the person I suspect is indeed a friend of yours, then you will find yourself mired in misery. I ask this for your sake, not my own: Who was this person?" The fact that he had completely avoided the topic of Alette revealed two things: Dumah seemed to have a fierce curiosity regarding the mysterious companion, and his daughter was a particularly complicated matter.

Words: 531 | Total Words: 2480
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 514
Total: 2678
Tags: @dumah
Notes: You don't have to be sorry about that, really.

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Had Dumah really threatened him just now? Ciriodhûl’s thoughts raced. Again, the cleric had almost lured the guild master away from the topic he wanted to avoid, or at least that was what he believed. Instead of talking proudly about his daughter, he completely ignored Ciriodhûl’s questions and continued to press for a definite answer. They had become two enemies battling it out through words. The cleric knew he could not win this battle. He was in front of a Courtesan and guild master and his future depended on the half-alv behind the table. The cleric was quite literate due to his knowledge in literature so that his rhetorical skill allowed him to hold up until now, but he had no experience in handling such situations. Sooner or later he had to decide: Tell him or don’t. As much as he wanted to protect Zyoto, his own needs forced him to stay in this very room. “Schadensbegrenzung, also?”, he mumbled in his native language. He could now choose two paths: Telling everything right now or hold up a little longer telling little by little small parts of truth. Every sane person would have chosen the first option, since it was obviously the easier one and the second would eventually lead to the same result. But Ciriodhûl was not sane. He would not break the promise he had made with a stranger, who did not even want to be in contact with him anymore, because it was a promise he had made.

“You suspect my partner was an enemy of Noihara. That just does not fit.”, he thought. “Also, this intense speaking about enemies makes me wonder how I can be an enemy for just being friendly with the wrong person.”

“Don’t worry.”, Ciriodhûl then replied with a forced smile on his lips. “We are not friends. In fact, my own partner pretty much dumped me, although I believe there had been a very good reason for it. And about this person you are suspecting…” He paused to check his words once again before actually saying them to make sure it would not reveal too much. “… It was indeed a person that knew you. But she spoke very fondly of this ‘great tailor and guild master’ Dumah Iino. To be honest, she’s the reason I came here. My apologies. I should’ve been honest from the very beginning. I guess, you can understand my dilemma? A promise is hard to break, especially hard, when one expects severe consequences he can’t control anymore, when one breaks it.”

Reflecting his reply Ciriodhûl was quite proud of himself until he realized that he slipped up again. Because “person” is of feminine gender in the German language, he had used a female pronoun in English and had unintentionally revealed the gender of his partner. Of course he could not know the actual relationship between Zyoto and Dumah, but if they were really married, this part of information would most-likely be enough for Dumah to deduce who his companion had been. He subconsciously grasped his staff firmer to brave himself.

[Deleted]

It would seem the guild master's stoic demeanor was misinterpreted, the conspicuous Cleric apparently taking offense to his statement. Behind his emerald eyes Dumah could see a torrent of conflicting thoughts, emotions raging as a devil and angel seemed to hold a heated debate on his shoulders. After some fierce deliberation, Ciriodhul made his choice and stuck with it, indicating the misunderstanding in the guild master's warning. He raised his hand, shaking his head in objection. "You seem to have my meaning mistaken, Ciriodhul. I am not threatening to make your life miserable for associating with an enemy of ours, I am merely warning you..." There was a slight moment of silence as the man's grip on his own hands seemed to tighten for a moment, forcing himself to remember something from his past. "... I have seen it before on numerous occasions... He has led many to make the wrong choices, and some... some can never right their wrong..." He closed his eyes for a brief moment as he exhaled, solemnly and stoically regaining his composure. "I have no reason to distrust you, and I respect your silence on the matter if you did indeed promise to keep the person anonymous. I just hope you do not abuse my trust and give me a reason to distrust you..."

After listening to the rest of the Cleric's words, Dumah nodded a bit, thinking on what he had been told. "If it was a female, then I doubt it is the aforementioned enemy I suspected... However..." He seemed to think deeply, perplexed by the description given. Someone who knew Dumah personally, and spoke very fondly of him. Someone who would recommend Noihara in particular... The only person he could imagine it being would be Alette, but Dumah saw no reaction from his guest indicating such when the girl entered the room. He took another glance at the man, observing him and examining any indications the Courtesan may be able to read. He noticed his grip on the staff tightening, indicating he was nervous, or perhaps afraid. This did little but strengthen the Spellsword's curiosity regarding the woman. To be someone who spoke so fondly of Dumah, yet was desperate to remain distant... Someone who apparently knew enough about the guild master and Noihara to personally recommend them despite needing to keep her distance...

"... Tell me, Ciriodhul, this partner of yours... I will not ask her name again, but could you at least tell me what she was like?" He was quick to give the reason for asking such a thing. "Someone who personally knows me, yet demands distance... Someone who cannot observe my guild, yet would personally recommend us over another such as Vylbrand Academy... It sounds most interesting." He gave it one last thought, realizing one stretch of a possibility. "This person... You said she was a skilled fighter, yes?" Realizing in the middle of his question that the possibility was not even that, he had to change his tactic in the middle of its execution. "Was this woman a ranged fighter?" With any luck, he would be able to eventually narrow down a description with a series of broad descriptors.

Words: 530 | Total Words: 3010
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 559
Total: 3237
Tags: @dumah

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Against Ciriodhûl’s expectations his companion or Zyoto was not the enemy Dumah had suspected. In retrospect he had even proved this by his very own words. What was meant as a distraction turned out to be true. Nevertheless, the guild master was lost in thought. The cleric, who had begun to relax a bit, immediately returned to clenching his staff. “Nice, Cirio. Your plan would’ve worked, but you just had to mess up your grammar.”, he murmured, too quiet for the half-alv to understand. The short silence felt so unbearable that he thought to already hear Dumah’s brain work. Although the tense atmosphere had lifted after the guild master had clarified the words he had misinterpreted as a threat, Ciriodhûl could not take his nervousness off. Would he be able to answer the next question?

The guild master's attitude had completely changed after he had finished brooding. He seemed to be curious, desperately so, more like excited. His former well-thought-out and calm speech became a bit erratic. He began to immediately say what went through his head after it came up. He asked what she had been like and quickly gave the reason why he was asking, albeit Ciriodhûl was already about to answer and could understand his need to question him very well. Then he asked about him saying that she was a skilled fighter, although the cleric could not remember saying anything about her skill. Only to suddenly narrow his question down by asking whether she was a ranged fighter or not.

“Let’s see …”, he said to calm the atmosphere down and give himself a short window of time to consider what he could possibly say now. He was good at interpreting, but it was hard for him to describe people. He always had the feeling to not do them justice. The plan to keep quiet about her had already failed anyway and by just giving a small description he would not really break his promise. “You said that you trust me, so I will trust you. I do not know why this very person does not want you to know her name and I hope you respect her wish as much as mine. Yes, she was a ranged fighter, a very skilled one, too. I don’t even know why she needed a healer … To clarify something before I continue: She did not recommend Noihara at any point. In fact, she recommended you as a tailor.” The cleric chuckled. “See, my armor doesn’t really fit to my play style as your daughter already figured. The decision to utilize the situation for joining your guild was my idea.” He made a small pause realizing he still had not said anything relevant. “When I should describe her personality we could not be any more different.” A gentle smile found its way to his lips. “She seems to fear the responsibility coming with being in a party. But she is quite proud … turned down all my offers to be of ‘assistance’ and was rather upset, when I called her ‘m’lady’ at first … You see ... I am quite bad at describing people efficiently. I hope this will answer your questions.”

Of course he could tell Dumah much more about her, but maybe this was just enough. Overall Ciriodhûl still felt uncomfortable stretching his promise like that.

[Deleted]

After listening to the Half-Alv's words, the Cleric seemed to tighten his grip upon his staff once again, muttering something under his breath at a volume most would not be able to hear. However, having taken the Hearing Aptitude skill long ago, Dumah was not one of those that would be unable to hear it. He replied with a reassuring side note. "Your grammar was fine, do not worry." He smiled a bit, taking from his remorse the fact that English was perhaps a second language for the Cleric. Judging by his chosen username, one may think he was of Irish descent, but that would not add up, as English is the dominant language of Ireland.

As the young man went on about the mysterious woman, he mentioned numerous things that Dumah made note of in the back of his mind: She was a very skilled ranged fighter, to the point where it seemed taking a healer was unnecessary; she did not recommend Ciriodhul join Noihara, she simply proposed he ask Dumah for an improved set of equipment. Lastly, he claimed she was proud, not taking too kindly to the Cleric's little nickname. Dumah went over everything he had deduced of the woman, an incredibly skilled ranged fighter - based on Dumah's experience with Wardens, namely Bailin, he deduced the woman had to be an Assassin as many Wardens were primarily melee fighters who also utilized firearms. This woman was rather serious, and knew Dumah personally. He could not think of anyone...

Looking at the Cleric, Dumah could see a bit of discomfort in his heart and chose to change the topic at hand. "Well, if you need me to craft you a new set of armor, then why don't we get started?" He stood up, moving from the nice desk he was seated at and heading to the door to open it for his guest. "Come, we can continue this in my guild's clothier." Once the Cleric had moved to begin following him, Dumah led him down to the guildhall's first floor, taking him down a corridor and leading him to a set of double doors, pushing them open and leading into a work room fit for a tailor, with a large wooden table in the center of the room and a loom in the corner; on the west wall was a diagonal wine rack, but no bottles were stored on the rack, only a rainbow gradient of different colored fabrics in a disparity of materials. Beside the rack was a large collection of countless spools of thread, all in as many colors as one may see in the entire spectrum. In another corner was a small bundle of three bean bag chairs, courtesy of Noihara's most skilled tailor: Sark.

Making his way to the fabric rack on the far wall, Dumah spoke over his shoulder to his new patron. "I take it you are planning to build your class towards a Priest play style? If you would prefer to be a Paladin, I could craft you some leather armor." Knowing he would need fabric regardless of the set he chose to craft, Dumah began collecting a few sheets of white cotton and gold cotton, grabbing matching colors of thread before taking it to the central table and placing them down in a neat, organized pile, keeping all of his resources in such eutaxy.

Words: 564 | Total Words: 3574
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 539
Total: 3776
Tags: @dumah

---

Instead of pressing him any further about Zyoto, Dumah suddenly changed the topic to the cleric’s armor. Ciriodhûl could not believe his ears. Was he really able to satisfy the guild masters curiosity or was he just graciously let off the hook? Whatever it was, though, his deduction about Zyoto must have been wrong. If she really were his wife there is no way he would change the topic like that. Unless… He remembered thinking about this when Alette had showed up. Unless he does not know that his wife was sucked into the game, too. So that’s why, or is it? The whole situation suddenly changed. First he had thought that Zyoto ran away, but that could not be the case anymore. Well, enough of that. I’ll have plenty of time to think this matter over, when I already joined Noihara or am asked about her again.

While he had been lost in thought, Dumah had stood up and opened the door for him with an invitation to follow him to his guild’s clothier. Finally surprised by his host’s generosity and will to craft him a new set of armor without even blinking he could neither decline his offer nor properly accept it and therefore he just nodded and followed the guild master. They returned to the first floor and not until they walked down a corridor on the same floor leading to their destination he was able to thank him. “You have my gratitude. Hopefully I will once be able to return the favor.” Usually Ciriodhûl would feel guilty being treated like that, but in Dumah’s case it seemed strangely natural. Maybe it was his skill as a Courtesan, but he was surrounded by an aura of comfort.

They arrived at a set of double doors which were immediately pushed open by the guild master. Behind them a room unfolded that was definitely worth being called a clothier. In the center of the room was a large table, most likely a tailor’s workbench, while the walls where lined with racks featuring all kinds of different fabrics and other materials. The cleric remained for a short time between the two doors and gazed into the room, before he finally came in. Dumah was already on his way to the rack on the opposite wall, when he wanted to confirm what playstyle the cleric had decided on. “No, priest is just fine. I could never really get used to healers at the front lines, although the cleric’s origins lie in a front-line healer, who was mainly effective against the undead. But I don’t want to bore you with small-talk about the mother of all MMORPGs, which is Dungeon and Dragons… Is there anything I can help you with? And what about joining your guild? I think we were discussing my past, before we got sidetracked.”, he replied and quickly added in a hastened manner: “ I don’t want to force the matter of course.” When he was finished, he noticed that he was still holding his staff with his left hand. Figuring that he would not need it anymore he opened his interface and unequipped the staff which vanished inside his hand after it was transferred to his inventory.

[Deleted]

As Dumah finished gathering together all of the materials he would need for his craft, he took a seat while the Cleric offered his assistance. "Actually, if you wish to assist, let me see your shirt for a moment. I am afraid we do not have anything with which to measure your sizes, so this is the next best thing." While Dumah sat at the large table in the center of the room, waiting for Ciriodhul to offer his shirt, he grabbed a sewing needle and a few spools of thread he would use. Once Dumah had made his final preparations, he looked at the Cleric, his shirt still on him. "I cannot guarantee I will be able to accurately measure your sizes by a mere glance. You have nothing to worry about, Ciriodhul. It is just your shirt after all." After some coaxing, his Courtesan skills assisting in his persuasion, the Cleric finally gave his host his shirt, bringing a content smile to his face. "Thank you." With that, he placed the shirt beside his work space on the table, grabbing a pair of scissors with which to cut and shape the fabric he would be using. "If you do not mind my asking, I believe you have yet to tell me what your level is." He waited a few moments, listening to the young man's answer before nodding to himself and returning his attention to the materials before him. "I see."

As he was making armor for a priest, he chose to stick to generally holy colors, his color palette consisting primarily of white and gold. He examined the offered shirt closely, making mental notes regarding its sizes around the neck, the shoulders, and the chest. Once he had given it a thorough examination, he set it back down, tracing his finger along the table, seemingly writing something on its surface. Of course, Ciriodhul could not see the ethereal mark Dumah's finger left as he wrote using his Mythic Script skill. It was nothing important, of course; merely measurements for the Cleric's robe. "Alright, you may put your shirt back on now if you wish." He held the article to his guest, then once it was taken from him, he took up the sewing scissors he had prepared moments ago and he began to cut the fabrics into a disparity of sizes and shapes. "Now then, it would normally cost in the range of one hundred five gold for a robe of this level, but you do not need to worry about that. Think of it as a gift, and if you truly wish to repay this gift, then you can pay it off by taking up some lessons from myself and Katarina, one of Noihara's officers. She is a Cleric like yourself, so I believe you could learn a great deal from her." He smiled a bit, making the last cut in the fabric and laying out all of the shapes before him in an organized manner.

Words: 500 | Total Words: 4074
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 532
Total: 4308
Tags: @dumah

---

„My shirt?“, Ciriodhûl replied insecurely. He could naturally understand why Dumah would need it, but it struck him as kind of odd that he asked a fresh acquaintance so openly to strip, albeit it was just about the shirt. Unable to answer such an unexpected question quickly he watched the guild master making the final preparations and thereby failed to reply in an appropriate time so that Dumah felt the need to motivate him further. “Sure”, the cleric finally answered hastily and took his shirt off to hand it on to his host. “You’re welcome.” He felt stupid. When I really intend to be a housekeeper I have to answer much faster.

Although he only showed off the body of a fictional avatar, he was not able to suppress his embarrassment. After all he had modeled Ciriodhûl by his real life appearance. Besides, the avatar’s body simply became his real body, after the apocalypse. He was Ciriodhûl not Frowin and Ciriodhûl could not be not embarrassed while showing the bare upper part of his body and revealing his weak, fragile figure. He never was the type to train his muscles, admittedly, he chose to not particularly care about his body any more than what was necessary to remain clean and to somewhat keep his endurance. As if he were a girl, he took his ponytail in front across his also bare shoulder to nervously twitch his hair with his right hand, while Dumah began his work and asked him about his level. Not making the same mistake twice, albeit the question being a lot more comfortable than the last one, Ciriodhûl told him his level immediately and without thinking. Thereupon the guild master checked his shirt thoroughly. The cleric observed every step carefully trying to memorize them. He had nothing else to do and it could prove useful to his skills as a housekeeper. After Dumah was finished examining his shirt, he dropped it on the table and made some sort of note on the surface next to it, Ciriodhûl was not even able to see. Probably a personal note related to what he’s doing. I should better not ask him about it.

He was relieved, when the tailor finally stated he could put his shirt back on. The cleric gently snatched it out of his host’s hands and threw it over, while Dumah was cutting the fabrics in form. He soon got down to business and revealed the new armor’s price, although he made sure that the cleric knew that it was a gift. Ciriodhûl would simply have to take some lessons by the guild master himself and one of Noihara’s officers, who also was a cleric. A woman called Katarina. The cleric returned the smile and bowed down. “Thank you for everything. I guess it is decided then that I may join your guild? I promise that you won’t ever have to open the door by yourself again as long as I’m around.”, he lead his honest gratitude into a bad joke and straightened back up. “So what about m’lady Katarina? I believe I should know at least something about her if I am supposed to take lessons by her.”

[Deleted]

With the countless pieces of fabric finally cut and prepared, Dumah was ready to begin sewing. He took one of the needles he had grabbed ahead of time, seamlessly (pun unintended) feeding the thread through the eye of the needle. Once through, he brought the needle to the center point of the thread, tying it off at the end to give his seams twice the strength without any need to double the time spent sewing. As he pierced the first duo of sheets, the very Cleric that would soon be donning this now incomplete robe spoke up, dressed once again, thanking his host for all he has done. He made the assumption he had been decided to join, though with the tone in his voice it could very well have been a question as well. "Not quite yet. We will get to that soon. As for what Katarina is like... She is fairly childish, often short and sarcastic. However, that is not to say she is impudent, nor is she a skilled Cleric." He tugged on the sewing needle, having already managed to make impressive progress on the craft itself. "Katarina, while the embodiment of snark, is a very capable strategist and supporter. She always makes sure to lead her team well, and when someone makes a mistake, she is quick to let them know." Dumah smiled to himself with a hint of pride in his guild's officer, his eyes closing as he thought of the skilled Cleric. Still following the motions of tailoring, the point of the needle gently stabbed the tip of his thumb, hardly phasing his callused digit. He opened his eyes once again, his attention returning to his work.

Following a time of silence and focus, the robe was finally completed. "There, it is finished." He held it up proudly as he oft would when completing a craft, giving it a final observation and look over to make sure there were no holes or torn seams. He tugged on it from all directions, testing its durability and finding himself quite pleased that it was strong enough not to tear in an instant. The guild master rested the article back upon the large work table in the center of the clothier, the user interface opening before him, prompting the input of the equipment's name. He tapped away at the screen that had materialized in thin air, typing in the inquired details. "Dumahim Holy Vestment." Once the name was confirmed, another window had opened, asking for him to input an item description. Though it was mere flavor text, Dumah always made an effort to write something he could be proud of. He took a moment, holding his chin gently as he pondered on the matter. "A garb crafted for use by-" He shook his head, starting over. "A garb tailored exclusively to be donned by the priest Cleric Ciriodhul, this attire shall grant the wearer the hope necessary to stand firm in the face of defeat, keeping his feet planted firm as he supports his allies, be it through restorative magic or kind words." He smiled as the interface closed, the armor finally completed. He passed the white and gold robe to the Cleric, offering it to him. "Here you are. It is now finished."

Words: 547 | Total Words: 4621
Tags: @ciriodhul
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 545 (The quote of Dumah's post, item name and description, is not counted)
Total: 4853
Tags: @dumah

---

When Dumah replied, Ciriodhûl got finally an answer about the current state of his request to join Noihara. He was not accepted yet. He had mostly asked, because of the kindness the guild master bestowed upon him and it had been quite the riddle for him to determine how he should take lessons by his host and Katarina to pay back the gift if he were not allowed to join in the first place. Well, it’s certainly a good sign nevertheless.

While Dumah continued sewing the robe, he talked about Katarina and openly raved about her abilities as a party leader. It turned out that she was a snarky, childish woman on one hand and a trustworthy, skilled leader on the other. “You seem to be very fond of her.”, Ciriodhûl stated curiously. There was still this one thing rambling in the back of his mind. And now that his host spoke so proudly of his female officer, it pushed its way to the front again. Stop thinking about it! It is not only rude to Dumah but you also and foremost promised Zyoto to not mention her. You almost messed that up. Don’t push the matter. The time will come, when you finally understand their relationship but that’s not today.

The following period of time, until the tailor finished the robe, Ciriodhûl silently looked over his shoulder thoroughly observing and memorizing everything he saw. Learning by watching was not that successful, when it came to craftsmanship that was mainly based on experience, but it was still better than not learning at all. Then, when he had finished his work, he held it up in front of him. By that he revealed a glorious piece of a white-golden robe crying out the hope for a safe haven of healing, resurrection and cure. After it had passed Dumah’s final observation, he laid it down on the table and tipped something on the Elder Tale interface. He is most likely giving it a name. The cleric waited patiently for his host to stop tipping, which took a lot more time than he had previously expected. Of course he was eager to try it on, but he did not like to show his desires and was therefore good at suppressing them. When Dumah finally handed him the robe over, he carefully accepted it and respectfully rested it on his hands for a moment. It was very lightweight, which was quite common for a light armor, but seemed remarkably sturdier than the robes Ciriodhûl had seen before. “And again I have to thank you. I will make sure to make good use of it!”, he said and added more to himself than to Dumah: “Well, let’s try it on.” He transferred the item to his inventory and paused as his finger was hovering above it.

[“Dumahim Holy Vestment – A garb tailored exclusively to be donned by the priest Cleric Ciriodhul, this attire shall grant the wearer the hope necessary to stand firm in the face of defeat, keeping his feet planted firm as he supports his allies, be it through restorative magic or kind words.”]
“I would prefer kind words, but I guess one can’t prevent a party from getting hurt, unless he is an amazing Shaman.”, he commented and smiled. It has been a long time ago, when he last felt this comfortable around other people. A time, when he had still been living in Germany.

Then he finally equipped the robe. “May I ask, what you think about your work, when it’s worn by my modest self?”

[Noctis Corvo]

Kain sat in the library pouring over some old texts as well as new ones, and carrying on a rather strange conversation with the second spirit within his head.

"There has to be some sort of a way to maintain psychologiccal control within corruption Noctis. I refuse to believe that there is not a single recorded instance where a heretic has always remained in control for at least an extended amount of time."

"Such is our curse Kain. We gain incredible power, but we often lack the necessary power to contain and control it."

Kain scratched his head. There had to be something. Possibly even in one of the other subclasse. All he had though was records and books to go on. Nothing concrete.

"Maybe we should talk to Dumah. He way not be a heretic, but he is our guild leader. At the very least he could give us some sort of second project to do. I'm tired of staring at all of these books getting nowhere."

"Fair enough." Responded the voice in his head.

The heretic got up, gathering his books and notes, taking his stack of books and taking the time to meticulously check them each back into their respective homes. With a sigh he collected up his journals and papers, and with a swipe of the interface deposited them into his inventory before setting off down the stone halls of the cathedral. The sunlight poured in through the cathedral windows, many casting large dynamic shadows throughout the hall, the occassional Noihara banner flapping in a gentle breeze that seemed to always soundlessly flit through the various rooms and halls. It was refreshing especially for a creative like Kain.

Eventually, he found his way to the guildmaster's office l. With a quick and light rap on the door, he realized that the room's lights were off. "Huh, empty." He thought to himself where dumah might be. Knowing his guild leader he was either out and about or practicing in the tailor room. He figured it wouldn't hurt to just go ahead and check before giving up on running into him and set off towards the room with the fabrics and the needles.

As he aproached he could hear two voices coming from the room . While muffled, he still recognized his guild master's voice, but the second was foreign to him. It held a rather interesting level of honorifics. He decided to go ahead and enter but decided to refrain from introducing himself right away as Dumah and the new face seemed to be involved in a conversation. Walking in, he leaned against the wall near the door, his tall, thin frame accentuated by the pinstripe suit he adorned, his dark hair and eyes still rippling with a small amount of violet from the miasma, his stitching visible around his mouth. As the conversation died down, he would address the two.

"Afternoon Dumah. Who's the new blood?"

[Deleted]

Dumah smiled softly, offering a somewhat witty response to the Cleric's claim that he would rather support his friends through kind words than soothing heals. "If that is the case, then perhaps you are better suited for the role of a Bard, or perhaps an Enchanter even. Still, I am afraid that Noihara already has one such member that everyone seeks out for kind words and support." With a bit of a proud smile, Dumah pointed himself out with his thumb. "Nevertheless, I believe you will serve well as a skilled and capable Cleric. I also believe you will benefit greatly from being taken under mine and Katarina's tutelage. In spite of her incessant snark, Katarina is a very capable Cleric, and I have high hopes that she will prove to be a very capable teacher as well." The guild master smiled, happy to have such a capable and reliable healer in his guild. As Ciriodhul tapped at the air, Dumah's pride shifted from his guild's members to his own handiwork, watching the robe he had just crafted materialize itself onto the Cleric's body in place of his starter set of chain armor. The divine fabric reached down to mere centimeters from the floor, the end high enough that the young man would not trip over it.

Dumah could not deny being caught a bit off guard, none of his patrons ever having asked before how he feels seeing his work donned. "While modesty is always a virtue in moderation, it is - as with all things - not appealing in surplus. I believe you could afford to be more proud of yourself and hold yourself in higher regard." He smiled. "Now then, regarding Noihara-"

As Dumah began to speak, the room became palpably darker. No, that is not quite appropriate... Rather, it became more ominous. Silenced by a mere feeling, Dumah looked in the doorway to see who had joined the two, smiling at the sight of his guild member. "Hello, Noctis. This is Ciriodhul, he is a Cleric; he actually came to commission a robe from me. Apparently some mystery woman had recommended my work, and young Ciriodhul thought it wise to use this as a chance to also inquire about our guild. I was actually just about to go through his initiation." He smiled, returning his attention to the Cleric. Dumah stood before the fellow with an expression that was equally casual, and equally formal. "Our initiation is quite simple, Ciriodhul. No grand quest, no daunting task, no need for a marveling display." The Spellsword held his hand out towards the aspiring Noiharan, his palm to the ceiling as it then burst into flames as he cast his Fireball Pitch spell. With his burning hand, Dumah offered a most casual of gestures: A simple handshake. "This is the same initiation all aspiring Noiharans are offered. All I ask of you is to shake my hand." It seemed so simple, despite the blazing inferno as his spell remained in his palm.

Words: 501 | Total Words: 5122
Tags: @ciriodhul Noctis Corvo
Coding by Sayha of LH

[Deleted]

Words: 547
Total: 5400
Tags: Noctis Corvo | @dumah
Notes: I hope it's true that the flames hurt and deal damage.

---

I am that modest? I would have described it as politeness… Thinking about Dumah’s advice regarding his behavior Ciriodhûl came up with a snappy response. So you want me to be proud of myself?, I am proud of myself! “Well, I am proud of my modest modesty.”, he said and leaned his head slightly to the side as if he was confused by Dumah’s statement, but smiled as well, when he returned it to an upright position.

However, just as the guild master came to the cleric’s previous request, namely joining Noihara, the tailor disrupted himself and paused for a moment. Then he looked to the doorway. Ciriodhûl, this time actually confused, followed his eyes and saw a thin black-haired man with a stitching across his mouth. Surprisingly he could still speak. Although the cleric did not mean to let the sight of the fresh arrived bother himself, he was not able to resist a weird feeling of anxiousness creeping up his body. Nevertheless the feeling faded away, when the guy spoke to Dumah and asked who the cleric was, so that he revealed himself to be a Noiharan as well. It is a game after all. No need to worry. All that is gold does not glitter. The guild master answered and thereby revealed the man’s name. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Noctis.”, Ciriodhûl immediately introduced himself by hisself and indicated a bow. “I am Ciriodhûl, a cleric and housekeeper. Always trying to be of assistance. You may call me Cirio if you want.”

After that Dumah returned his attention to him. It turned out that the initiation was simple. The cleric had almost forgotten that most guilds used to give the aspirants some kind of task or quest to fulfill before they were allowed to join. Albeit it being simple, Dumah held it hand out towards him and casted a spell of his, enwrapping it with fire. Baffled by the sudden turn of events, the cleric was rooted to the spot unable to reply anything at first. What he had to do was clear. He had to shake the guild master’s hand. That’s madness... Actually it is not. He just wants to test if I am serious. Good thing that I have masochistic tendencies. While he made up his mind, his eyes mirrored the fire inside Dumah’s hand. Determined to join Noihara and finally find a place to live in and for Ciriodhûl gathered his courage and punched in. He felt the flames embracing his hand burning inside of his flesh. He withstood the reflex to immediately withdraw it and instead tightened his grip to not unintentionally lose it. His interface was not opened but he was sure that his HP had to be decreasing. He had not died in the game yet and he was not planning to do so, but if that was what the guild master demanded he would obey. He would shake his hand, until Dumah either gave his hand free or killed him. It’s very convenient I am already in the cathedral. That way I don’t have to walk back a far distance. A forced smile appeared on his in pain twitching lips. “Quite simple indeed, isn’t it?”, he squeezed through them, while he was slowly losing his strength.