A few days later, the party of Dreisterne finally reached Dunsgoil Hill. The city sprawled before them, its impressive buildings casting long shadows in the midday sun. Nathan, Harald, and Keith stood at the edge of the city, their gaze fixed on the bustling streets ahead. The merchant, who had accompanied them for part of their journey, was busy securing his wagon. As he finished his preparations, he turned to the trio with a friendly smile. "Well, this is where we part ways, my friends. I've still got some distance to cover before I reach my own destination."
Nathan stepped forward, extending his hand. "Thank you for your company and assistance along the way. We wish you safe travels and success in your journey."
The merchant shook Nathan's hand warmly. "You too, young man. If you ever find yourselves in need of a ride again, you know where to find me. Take care now."
With their farewells exchanged, the merchant climbed back into his wagon and gave a final wave. The wagon creaked into motion, rolling steadily away from the city's entrance. The trio watched as he disappeared down the road, then turned their attention to the city before them.
As Dreisterne stepped through the main gate of Dunsgoil Hill, they were immediately greeted by the vibrant pulse of the city. The grand entrance opened onto a bustling thoroughfare, with the main roads sprawling outwards in a well-planned grid. These broad avenues intersected in the city centre, forming a cross of wide paths that connected the southern gate to the northern mountain and bridged the eastern and western walls. The roads were flanked by an eclectic mix of buildings of varying shapes and sizes lining the streets and crowded the alleys that crisscrossed between them, giving the city a picturesque yet industrious feel. Above, the northern mountain loomed majestically, its rugged peaks forming a dramatic backdrop to the city's bustling life.
The air was filled with the murmur of conversation, the clatter of horse-drawn carts, and the occasional shout from street vendors. Stalls and shops, each with their own colourful displays, added to the lively atmosphere. Everywhere Dreisterne looked, there was movement and purpose. Traders haggled with customers, children played in the alleys, and travelers like themselves meandered, taking in the sights and sounds of this thriving metropolis. The city of Dunsgoil Hill, alive with its own rhythm, promised both adventure and opportunity to those who ventured within its walls.
As they made their way through the bustling streets, they came upon a peculiar scene. A young girl, clad in a Healer's robe with bobbed black hair, was intently observing a wooden door as if it held the secrets of the universe. Her gaze was fixed, almost trance-like, and she seemed completely unaware of the world around her.
Nathan approached her with a raised eyebrow as he politely asked her. "Excuse me, miss. Is everything alright?"
The girl turned her head slowly, her eyes blinking as if she were waking from a deep slumber. "Oh, no. No worries, all is well. I just found doors interesting, in general."
Nathan's brow furrowed in confusion. "… can you elaborate?"
The strange Healer tilted her head, eyes gleaming with sudden enthusiasm. "A door may seem simple, but have you ever truly marvelled at it? It's more than a slab of wood or metal. It's a gateway, a boundary between where you are and where you could be. Think about it: each door holds possibilities untold. With a turn of the handle, you step from the known into the unknown. Its craftsmanship, the silent swing of its hinges, the firm frame—it guards what is precious and invites what is welcome. And yet… sometimes, a door is just a door. Isn't that a wonder in itself?"
Nathan exchanged a bemused glance with Harald and Keith, and the latter narrowed his eyes while he muttered, "We really should've left this one alone."
Undeterred, Nathan decided to shift the topic. "Right... So anyway, we're looking for Dunsgoil Hall. Do you know the way?"
"Oh, Dunsgoil Hall. It's right over there," the Healer said matter-of-factly, pointing toward the towering peak at the far end of the city.
Keith could feel his stomach lurch when he gazed at the mountain. "You're saying we have to climb our way up there?" he asked apprehensively.
The girl shook her head, saying "Not on top of the mountain, no. Dunsgoil Hall is the mountain. You'll believe it when you see it."
Nathan nodded, trying to process the information. "And do you know if there's anything we should be aware of about the school before we go there?"
The girl's face clouded again as she pondered. "Hmm… I don't know much other than that they're currently receiving new students."
Harald spoke, accompanied with a charming smile. "Thank you for your assistance, Fräulein. We shall proceed to the Hall and find out more for ourselves."
As they began to walk away, Keith leaned in and whispered to Nathan and Harald, "Why'd we end up asking her? I mean, no offence to her, but she sounded like a nutter with her door monologue."
Harald chuckled. "Yes, well, at least she pointed us in the right direction. Let us hope that the Hall itself will have less...'philosophical' characters."
As the party made their way up the main road northwards to Dunsgoil Hall, their attention was caught by a comely young woman in her late teens, struggling with a wheelbarrow overflowing with books. She had a slender build, light caramel skin, long silver hair that cascaded down her back, and gentle amber eyes peering from behind her spectacles. The wheelbarrow, heavy and unwieldy, threatened to topple over with every uneven step she took.
Harald was quick to act, obeying his gallant impulse. He stepped forward with a warm smile. "Allow me to assist you, Fräulein," he said, his voice rich with sincerity. "It seems you are in need of a helping hand."
The woman looked up, her eyes grateful. "Oh, thank you! I've been having quite the time managing this on my own," she said as Harald took hold of the wheelbarrow.
Keith seized his opportunity and gave the wheelbarrow a lift. "Cheers, miss! I go by Keith Nimbus. We're actually heading to Dunsgoil Hall ourselves."
Anna smiled. "Oh, wonderful! This way, if you please," she said as she led the way.
Harald shot Keith a disapproving glare when the latter started pushing the wheelbarrow. Keith noticed this and returned with an impish grin. Nathan only chuckled at his friends' own grossly overt displays of chivalry as the party started moving.
As they walked together, Anna said "I'm Anna Noble, by the way. I'm a librarian and one of the tutors of magic at Dunsgoil Hall. What brings you gentlemen to the institution?"
Harald's eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he raised his hat courteously. "Harald Nachtwasser, at your service. You see, Frau Noble, we are interested in enrolling at the Hall. Could you perhaps provide us with some information about the enrolment process and any required qualifications?"
Anna's face brightened with her explanation. "Dunsgoil Hall is primarily a trade school, attracting aspirants from all over Rossland to learn various skills. If you show proficiency in your chosen field, you'll be granted a certificate that proves your mastery of the fundamentals. This certification will allow you to either step straight into a job or seek an apprenticeship with a master."
Nathan, intrigued, asked, "And are there any specific requirements or tests we need to take for enrolment?"
Anna nodded. "Anyone can enrol in most courses at any time. However, for magic-related courses, you'll need to undergo basic proficiency tests to ensure you have a foundational grasp of the craft. Do you have any in mind, mister…?"
"Nathan Festivus, Ms. Noble. Oh, and I'll see what the school has in store first," Nathan answered cordially.
"I see." Anna adjusted her glasses as she gave the trio a once-over before she continued, "You know, it's not every day I see rough-and-tumble adventurers like you interested in attending classes like ours. Do you have any plans to apply for apprenticeships in the future?"
Keith answered, "Not, not really. Our first job was a bust, and Harald here thought that we needed to be better prepared before we could give monster den cleanups another try."
"In addition to any and all ventures we may undertake in the future," added Harald with conviction. "Knowledge is the best weapon we have in our arsenal, and we intend to hone it until it's keen enough to slay dragons in one blow."
"Yeah, that too," said Keith. Nathan could almost see the confusion forming on his face when Harald was being loquacious in his earshot, while Anna chuckled at the pyromancer's earnestness.
As they arrived at the grand gates of Dunsgoil Hall, the party found themselves standing before a structure that defied their expectations. Carved into the very mountain itself, the hall's interiors were nothing like the rough, cave-like formations they had imagined. Instead, the space resembled a finely crafted man-made marvel, with smooth, polished stone walls adorned with intricate carvings and tapestries. Tall, vaulted ceilings stretched overhead, illuminated by ornate chandeliers casting a warm, inviting glow. Grand staircases spiralled up to different levels, while wide corridors led off into various halls and chambers.
Anna signalled a staff member who approached, taking over the wheelbarrow from Keith. She then turned to them with a kind smile. "I'll leave you here. I hope you find what you're looking for," she said, her gentle amber eyes sparkling with encouragement from behind her spectacles, her long silver hair catching the light as she moved.
Harald replied, his smile exuding charisma. "It is an utmost pleasure meeting you, Frau Noble. I am looking forward to your lessons."
Anna looked pleased as she replied, "You're very enthusiastic about learning, it seems. I hope we can see each other in class very soon, Mr. Nachtwasser."
"I will not disappoint, meine liebe Lehrerin," Harald replied with a courteous bow.
The librarian smiled pleasantly at Harald, taking another good look at him before she went on her way. Nathan and Keith simply watch on, themselves looking thoroughly amused at the scene unfolding before them. Then, Dreisterne wasted no more time and headed straight for the reception desk, where a large board displayed a list of available courses. Harald, his excitement barely contained, immediately applied for a course in basic spellcasting. His friends exchanged knowing glances, well aware of his true intentions.
Keith scanned the list with a hint of disappointment. "Oh, cor, looks like the combat training classes are all full up until next month. Bit of a blow, that."
"I'm sorry about that, sir," the receptionist replied with an air of professional sympathy. "However, the training grounds are open to the public for a very small fee, as long as you have made proper reservations so you wouldn't run into other classes. Feel free to ask us about them anytime."
"Well, that's good to know," said Keith with a grin while his friends nodded approvingly. At least they wouldn't have to worry about going out of practice while staying in the city.
Nathan took some time to go through the list of courses, but he couldn't find any that hits his fancy. He already knew his way around first aid, and what he learned about equipment upkeep from Windhill's smithy was more than enough to keep his gear in good working order. With a thoughtful expression, he turned to the receptionist. "I'd like some time to consider my options before I make any calls. Can I return later?"
The receptionist nodded. "Certainly, sir. Take all the time you need!"
Nathan, Harald, and Keith found themselves wandering the lively streets of Dunsgoil once more, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. The clamour of merchants, the chatter of townsfolk, and the occasional clatter of horses' hooves on cobblestones filled the air. But above it all, something else caught their attention—the rich, tantalizing aromas wafting from the various food stalls and eateries lining the streets. The scent of roasting meats, fresh bread, and hearty stews curled through the air, teasing their senses.
Keith's stomach rumbled audibly, punctuating the silence between them. He groaned, rubbing his abdomen. "Oi, Nate, H, I'm starving here!" he complained. "Can we stop faffin' about and find a place quick?"
"Well-" Nathan said before his own empty stomach rumbled, and there was a short pause before the trio chuckled from its incredible timing. He then continued, "Point taken. Let's find ourselves someplace nice."
As they approached a charming restaurant with inviting, warmly lit windows, their eager anticipation was abruptly interrupted. A loud crash drew their attention, and a man was flung through the restaurant's doors, landing heavily on the cobblestones with a resounding thud. He was a middle-aged man dressed in a dishevelled chef's uniform, lying sprawled on the ground, his face a mix of confusion and distress.
Before the trio could react, a second figure emerged from the restaurant—a gargantuan man whose mere presence seemed to dominate the scene. He was built like a solid brick wall, with thick stone pillars as arms, which looked more than able to easily smash heads, and he moved with an air of arrogant authority. The imposing man was followed by two smaller, equally grim-faced men. Without hesitation, they began boarding up the restaurant's doors and windows, their movements quick and methodical.
The cook, his face flushed with desperation, pleaded with the strong man. "Please, you can't do this! I've paid every copper I owe! The deed to this place is mine!"
With an air of superiority, the strong man brandished a piece of paper in front of the cook's face. "This is a government-issued warrant for the seizure of your property. You've failed to make your full payment on time, and now it's ours."
"But I have the deed!" the cook protested, his voice trembling. "I paid the government in full months ago. I even have the paperwork to prove it!"
The strong man scoffed. "I haven't seen any receipts on those. So, as long as no one could prove me wrong, your documents are overdue, and we don't give a witch's teat about your excuses."
The cook's pleas fell on deaf ears as the strong man and his associates continued their work. Eventually, the cook slumped against the planked-up door, his face a portrait of defeat.
Nathan, Harald, and Keith watched the scene unfold in sombre silence, up until the cook dragged himself away from his old shop some moments later to who knows where. Dreisterne then made their way to another restaurant nearby. They chewed through their food mechanically, with no sense of taste registering in their heads as their thoughts dwelt upon the unfortunate man.
Keith put his spoon down, his bowl thoroughly cleaned of the beef and bean porridge that filled it minutes earlier. "What a scene, eh? From earlier, I mean," he said, breaking the protracted silence on Dreisterne's table.
Nathan looked down at his half-eaten platter of bread, meat, and cheese. "You know? I wish I could help the man, but I doubt some gold and well-wishes would be of any use to someone in his shoes. He reminded me so much of a farmer who lost his farm to a fire years ago."
Harald spoke, his tone pragmatic. "We've only just arrived in the city, and finding our own footing takes top priority. For now, there's nothing much we can do for anyone, especially for charity's sake."
All the talk about the unfortunate chef sparked an idea in Keith, and he spoke with newfound enthusiasm. "You know, Nate, H, that whole mess got me thinking: If I could cook, we could save some coin on food, so I reckon I'll sign up for cooking classes at Dunsgoil. What d'you blokes think?"
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Cooking classes? That never crossed my mind, to be frank. That's an interesting choice, Keith."
"If it's a skill that will aid us and save us coin, then it may be a wise investment," said Harald as he nodded sagely.
Nathan remained uncertain. "As for me, I still can't make up my mind about my schooling options, so I plan to bide my time doing jobs for the guild until the right one comes along."
With their respective plans in mind, the trio finished their meal and made a beeline for the local freelancer's guild to make arrangements for temporary long-term lodgings. While the guild building itself had none, the management helped make arrangements with one of the inns in the city by handing Dreisterne a letter they could show to the owner of an inn they were interested in staying at. Harald chose one called The Side-swept Inn located next to the central road leading to Dunsgoil Hall, which boasted a significant skid mark across its wall. The landlord said that it was caused by a runaway caravan some years ago, though even he wasn't sure which caravan and when exactly the collision took place since the mark had been there ever since he was a little boy. Nevertheless, Dreisterne had managed to acquire a spacious room set with three cosy cots, and the trio settled down, ready to meet any challenges Dunsgoil Hill had in store for them for the weeks to come
A few days had passed since then and Nathan was preoccupied with menial jobs most other freelancers skip over, making a steady income without risking his neck by much other than the time he had to clear an underground sewage area from a giant roach infestation, which his recent experience with Harald's fire spells had taught him to bring bottle torches along with a torch to the nest. While he managed to clear the entire swarm in short order, the acrid smell of burning cockroaches lingered in his nostrils for the next couple of days, and his reward was docked due to burning smell complaints by the residents.
At the same time, Harald and Keith attended their respective spellcasting and cooking classes. As the days passed, both Harald and Keith dove into their respective classes with enthusiasm, each coming back to their shared lodging brimming with stories. Harald, who had enrolled in the spellcasting classes, seemed to have more to say about his conversations with Ms. Noble than the lessons themselves.
"You wouldn't believe the depths of our discussions, mein Freunde!" Harald began, his eyes shining as he leaned in toward Nathan and Keith one evening. "Ms. Noble, ach, such an amazing mind she has! Her insights into the arcane arts are wonderful, but it is her broader perspective, the way she ties magic to life, that truly inspires me! We talked about more than mere spellcasting formulae. Philosophy, history, and even the beauty of how magic shapes the world! I am most fortunate, I must say. Her guidance is beyond compare."
Nathan chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds like your spellcasting classes are more like intellectual salons."
Harald grinned, not denying it. "Ja, well, I have already been proficient with spellcasting basics long before we run into each other, so most of my classes consist of me discussing magic with Frau Noble while I've long left my peers in the dust. But make no mistake, Herr Festivus: my skills are coming along nicely thanks to my personal research borne from our discussions. Soon, my flames shall raze all who stand against me! I kid you, meine Herren, I kid," he hastily added when he saw the alarm on his friends' faces.
Meanwhile, Keith was just as excited when talking about his cooking classes, though with noticeably less mania as Harald.
"I tell you, lads…" he began with a broad grin, "…turns out I'm not half bad with a spatula! Who would've thought? They got me slicing, dicing, and sautéing all sorts. I always figured I'd burn water, but seems I've got a knack for it after all!"
Nathan gave him an encouraging nod. "Great one, Keith. Looks like you found your hidden talent."
Keith laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never got the chance to try cooking before, y'know? Never thought much of it when we're on the road, and all. But now…wait 'til I really get the hang of it. We won't be needing to stop at taverns much once I do!"
Harald, still glowing from his own musings, added with a flourish, "Food and magic are forms of creation, the act of creating is a form of art, and art is beautiful. Aren't cooking and spellcasting just beautiful, Keith?"
Keith snorted. "Yeah, well, I'll leave the philosophising to you, H. I'll stick to making a mean stew for us."
The two of them laughed, and even Nathan found himself smiling at their banter. While they had different focuses in their studies, both were discovering new sides to themselves, and it was clear their time at Dunsgoil was shaping up to be more rewarding than any of them expected.
The next day, Nathan returned to the guild hall and browsed for that day's line-up of jobs. Among the various job postings on the board, one particular notice caught his eye. It advertised a need for an extra pair of hands to clear out a newly purchased warehouse of its former owner's belongings. The pay was described as handsome, and the job came with the added perk of allowing the workers to keep anything they found of interest.
Without hesitation, Nathan signed up for the job and made his way to the venue indicated in the advertisement. To his surprise, the address led him to the very restaurant he had seen being forcibly vacated on his first day in Dunsgoil. His curiosity piqued, Nathan approached the establishment, his mind still fresh with the memory of the previous owner's eviction.
As he arrived, the new owner, a short, skinny man with a thin moustache and a somewhat unctuous demeanour, emerged from the restaurant. The man's attire was immaculate, his chef's coat crisp and clean, and he greeted Nathan with a wide, somewhat oily smile.
"Ah, you must be the freelancer," the man said with a flourish, extending a hand. "I am Chef Anton Skinner. Welcome! I trust you're here for the job?"
Nathan shook the man's hand, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Indeed I am, sir. For the sake of clarity, I am to assist with clearing out your warehouse, is that right?"
Skinner's smile broadened, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. "Excellent! I've been eager to get this task underway. Follow me, please."
As they walked down the road to the warehouse, Skinner chattered enthusiastically about his recent success in securing a new location for his restaurant. "It's been quite the journey, let me tell you. I struggled immensely to keep my previous restaurant running out on the city's outskirts. It was a constant battle, but now, at last, I've managed to set up shop right in the heart of Dunsgoil!"
Nathan nodded politely, though he kept his thoughts to himself. The image of the former owner's desperate pleas and the brute strength of the enforcers boarding up the place still lingered in his mind.
Skinner continued, oblivious to Nathan's internal conflict. "I'm delighted to finally be in a prime location where I can truly thrive. But enough about me. Let's focus on the task at hand. The warehouse is just a few blocks away."
They arrived at the warehouse, a small, somewhat dilapidated building with an old, creaky sign hanging loosely above the entrance. When Nathan and Skinner arrived at the small warehouse, the air was filled with a musty odour, hinting at the years of neglect the building had suffered. Skinner turned to Nathan with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Here we are," Skinner said. "You should have everything cleared out by 5 o'clock this afternoon. I trust you won't have any trouble with it?"
Nathan nodded, his expression neutral as he surveyed the interior. "Understood. I'll get to work immediately."
Skinner tipped his hat and gave a parting nod. "Splendid! I'll be back later to check on your progress."
As Skinner departed, Nathan stepped into the dimly lit warehouse. To his relief, the space was neither excessively large nor filled with an overwhelming number of items. The clutter consisted mainly of outdated furniture, old crates, and assorted odds and ends. While the task ahead was manageable, it still required a wheelbarrow to transport some of the heavier pieces to the nearby rubbish disposal chute.
Nathan took his time sorting through the items, methodically clearing the space one piece at a time. As he worked, he kept an eye out for anything of interest. His efforts were rewarded when he discovered a few items that caught his attention. Among the clutter, Nathan found a sturdy tinderbox, which he decided to keep for himself. It was a practical tool that could come in handy during their travels. He also uncovered a set of kitchen knives, which he thought would be perfect for Keith. "These will be useful for the chef," he murmured to himself.
Most intriguing of all was a pair of light plate gauntlets. The gauntlets were crafted from a material that Nathan didn't recognize, and they had slots at the lower sections of the forearms, designed to fit in small daggers. Nathan hesitated as he examined them. They seemed remarkably well-made and potentially valuable, and he carefully packed the gauntlets away. The rest of the day passed in relative quiet as Nathan continued to clear out the warehouse, his mind occasionally drifting back to the events he'd witnessed on his first day in Dunsgoil.
By the time Nathan finished clearing out the warehouse, the space was transformed into a clean, empty shell, and all that's left was for him to wait for Skinner to return and inspect the job. As Skinner approached, his refined attire and confident stride announced his arrival, but there was a subtle edge to his demeanour that Nathan couldn't ignore.
"Ah, Mr. Festivus!" Skinner said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "I see you've completed the task with admirable efficiency."
Nathan nodded, wiping a smudge of dust from his hands. "Indeed. Everything's been cleared out as requested."
Skinner's eyes flicked around the warehouse, as if searching for something amiss. "Very good. However, before I sign off on the contract, I must ask: did you happen upon anything… peculiar during your work?"
Nathan's thoughts immediately went to the gauntlets, which were safely tucked away in his backpack. He hesitated for a moment but quickly composed himself. "Nothing of particular interest, except for these," he said, pulling out the set of kitchen knives he'd found. "I thought they might be useful."
Skinner's gaze fixed on the knives, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild irritation. He took a moment to scrutinise Nathan's face, as if weighing the truth of his words. "I see," he said at last, his voice taking on a slightly clipped tone. "Well, I suppose it's no matter."
He reached into his coat and produced a pouch of silver coins, which he handed to Nathan with a practised flick of his wrist. "Here is your payment, as agreed. I trust you're satisfied with the arrangement?"
Nathan accepted the pouch with a nod, his expression carefully neutral. "Thank you, Mr. Skinner. I appreciate it."
Skinner's eyes lingered on Nathan for a moment longer, then he gave a curt nod and turned to leave. "If you happen to find anything else of note, do let me know," he said, with a hint of a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good day to you."
As Skinner walked away, Nathan pocketed the coins and made his way out of the warehouse. The encounter left him with a nagging sense of unease, but he brushed it off, focusing instead on going back home. The gauntlets would be saved for the right moment, but for now, he had an important date with his bed.