82 Guild Contes

"Now, ya need a straight stick. A curved stick won't do ya any good," Tamaki was trying to teach Barza something about nature, speaking in his calming drawl.

"Can't I find true north by looking at the moss on the trees?" Barza asked hopefully.

"Well, y'can. But that only works 'cos moss grows on the side of the trees where there's sun. An' spiderwebs are always on the side where the sun don't shine! The stick an' shadow method's a bit more reliable, so listen up," Tamaki patiently explained.

Tamaki was an excellent pathfinder. Tycon congratulated himself for petitioning for the youth's assistance.

He was feeling rather proud overall for the work done at the sect, especially at his diplomatic handling of the catastrophe that was Seldin Korr. He was especially proud that he did not die.

Tycon decided that the guild no longer needed to stop at Aviard, as he had originally intended. He was able to stockpile rations from the Ivory Judge sect and his spatial ring kept food fresh for longer. It also largely protected their mundane equipment from the erosion of the elements.

Guild Invictus' elite forces had grown. Tycon would be able to liquidate the assets he gained from looting House Muto in Merylsward, a far larger city than Aviard. With that and whatever monetary power Sorina Capulet was able to consolidate, the guild would be well on their way to recruiting adventurers, mercenaries, professional soldiers, and other logistics operators.

What else could he do? Deep in thought, the image of Korr suddenly arose in his mind. How strange. Oh! But there was an idea!

Wroe sidled up to Tycon-- thankfully, without bursting from the shadows like a fool wandering into a pit trap.

"What's on your mind, Boss?" The blue-haired man man tilted his head in curiosity.

"Eggs," Tycon declared, overly proud.

"Wh-what kind of eggs? Scrambled? Sunny side up? Fertilized?" Wroe offered, trying to be helpful.

"The last kind, actually. I was thinking that we should expand the clutch... err, so to speak. We've contracted Maximus and Young Master Tamaki, but Guild Invictus should always be on the lookout for more talent."

Wroe pointed with his thumb at Maximus, "Boss, I don't think we're getting any better than Maximus."

"I thought I told you to stop flirting within the guild," Tycon glared.

"No fertilizing eggs for me," Barza's gaze drifted to stare through the forest canopy at the cloudless blue sky, "I have someone I like."

Tycon thought back to Sorina's night visit and how much the woman probably hated Barza for something that was neither his, nor Tycon's fault, "Mister Dragan."

"Yyyyyyeah, Boss?"

"Find Mister Barza a mate in Merylsward."

"Aye aye, Boss!" Dragan gave a lazy salute and wrapped a heavy arm around Barza's shoulders.

"Don't I get a say in this??" Barza yawped, unable to escape.

"Soooo what's in Merylsward, Boss?" Dragan asked.

"Heretics to be purged by bolt and flame," Maximus clenched a sparking fist.

"A red lamp district," Wroe offered generously.

"I said it first," Maximus averted his gaze.

"Tss. Right." Tycon raised his voice, "Guild Invictus, bring it in."

Gathering Guild Invictus around him, he began to explain, "Mister Dragan, I've told you and Mister Wroe that we were heading to Merylsward."

"Uhhhh huh. Yeap!" "Right, but you didn't tell us why?"

"That has something to do with a ah..." Tycon struggled to remember what the letter in his pack had said, "--Duke Tavor, if memory serves."

Barza raised his hand, "Don't you mean Baron Tavor... Sir Tycon?"

"Negative. Baron Zindo Tavor attained his wealth and status through his brother, a Duke residing in Merylsward."

Dragan whistled, "A Duke, huh? Should be more interesting than taking care of a Baron."

Wroe raised his hand, "What about Wolfbanger and Lulu? Should we be looking for them, too?"

"No. Stop asking."

Maximus raised his hand, "What about guild leader Quay?"

"Also no. Let's assume he's dead."

Pale raised his hand.

"What is it, Bucket?"

"Dad's just missing," Pale frowned.

"Right. That's what I said. Missing."

Pale pouted but put his hand back down.

Taree raised her hand, "Boss Tycon, what's a red lamp district?"

Tycon ignored the last question.

"Anyroad, we've a contract to expose the Duke-- shouldn't be difficult. There should be evidence abound of his corruption."

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Dragan snickered, "Or we could sabotage him."

"We could challenge him and his men to single combat." Maximus flexed his blue-scaled arms, electricity sparking from his eyes, "I volunteer as the single combatant."

Tycon waved his hand to stop the speculation, "We'll identify a plan of action after observing the situation. For now, we'll get a few suns of training to better facilitate team plays. We'll split up into two teams..."

Tycon observed Guild Invictus' reactions. Everyone in the guild had a healthy competition-craving spirit. Taree and Barza, especially, showed a burning resolve to prove themselves. If the girl performed better, he might consider acknowledging her. As for the dual-wielding warrior... He was conscripted for life without pay, so Tycon didn't keep high expectations for him. But if he performed well, Tycon would welcome the pleasant surprise.

"I'll take Pale, and... what was your name, again? Lone?"

Barza coughed, "The Lone Shadowdark, Sir Tycon."

Tycon stared blankly at Barza. Odd. If one of Guild Invictus' members offered something outrageous, it was usually in jest. When Tycon would stare after such a suggestion, the offending member would assure him that the statement was only made in jest.

Tycon grew worried. He was not gaining the assurance he was hoping for, "You serious?"

"Boss, he had mentioned he was um... Lonely," Wroe offered politely.

"H'yeah, Boss, can we get some guild funds for getting Lone laid in Merylsward?"

Tycon sighed, "I'll set aside some of the funds... But I want a receipt!"

"You got it, Boss!" Dragan pointed with a wink and clicked his tongue.

"Mister Dragan's team will be Tamaki and Maximus."

Taree stood atop a nearby rock, to elevate her height, "Wait a second!"

Tycon raised his eyebrows, "What is it, young lady?"

"What about me?!?" She demanded.

Tycon inwardly groaned. It was growing more difficult each passing sun to hide his disdain for the silver-haired brat, "Go with your brother."

"But you have less people!!" the girl puffed her cheeks.

When Korr did such a thing, Tycon accepted it as a childish quirk that accentuated her charm. How did this brat look so irritable when she did it?

"False. Mister Wroe will be a part of my team until we reach Merylsward."

The pouting Taree turned to her brother for assistance. Tamaki promptly came to her aid, "Can we hold on for just a minute, Boss Tycon?"

"Speak your mind, Young Master," Tycon gave a quick upward nod. Unlike his sister, Tamaki operated on logic and reason. It was natural that his suggestions would be exponentially more credible and constructive.

"How 'bout ya treat it like a friendly competition. Like if Coach does real good, she can join the team of her choice."

Tycon chuckled in amusement, "You propose a contest within the guild?"

"Yeah! That sounds just about right," Tamaki crossed his arms and nodded, congratulating his own cleverness.

Taree grabbed her brother's arm and jumped up excitedly.

Tycon looked to the side.

Dragan Ashlord raised his dark-metal greataxe in both hands over his head, shrouded in flames. Maximus of Ezyria posed with his shield and spear, flexing his muscles while surrounded in an arc of electrical energy. Tarquin Wroe floated, black ink spilling from his eye sockets, shrouded entirely in a shadowy aura.

"Yeah, not you guys. The contest will be between Pale, Taree, and uh... Lone."

The three show-offs collapsed in a clumsy heap, like stringed puppets suddenly told that they would no longer get to fight each other.

Tamaki swung his arm, "Oh, boy. I can't wait!"