The Day Off

Long ago, at an age before humanity spread throughout the world, elves used to rule near the upper planes. Their magic prowess was unrivaled even by the strongest mages. The magic they possessed was similar in scale to that of the gods. When the elves had become so bold as to stand against the gods they were struck down from their pedestal and were cast down to the material planes, becoming stripped of their magic in the process. Now all that's left of the great elves known as the Icaryians are the overgrown ruins of their once great civilization which had fallen from the heavens with them. The strongest of the elves had made great magical craters when they'd fallen, their magical power flowing into the area around them; into the very soil.

"Ok Trent, thanks for the history lesson," Darris shouted sarcastically to his comrade, Trent, who had been explaining the history of the ruins they were currently in.

"Eh, let him talk. Otherwise, he won't shut up about it 'till sundown." Elrik said, walking past Darris, stepping around an old stone pillar that at one point might have held up the roof of the crumbling temple they were at. "I mean hey, for all we know, one of those old Icaryians could've been an ancestor of his." Elric smiled jokingly and nodded to the tip of Trent's ear, referencing his heritage.

It was at that moment that Trent slid down the slanted stone wall he had been standing on top of. The roof it had held up had long since fallen away into rubble, and the wall fell against the other wall next to it in a way that anyone with decent climbing skills could scale it to reach the roof.

"Either of you two know where Isak or Tempest is?" Trent asked, wiping away the dust from his light blonde hair.

Darris just shrugged, then turned and pointed to the pathway emerging out of the crumbling temple's exit. "Out there." He said.

Trent scoffed and jogged out the doorway before looking both ways down the path. He turned back to Darris and Elrik and put his arms out from his sides. "Why didn't either of you tell me? Now we don't know where they are! How far do you think they've gone now?" He said, panic now rising in his voice. He was always the one to lose his cool first; he always panicked when things went slightly wrong. But beyond that, he was an invaluable member of the Fame adventuring guild's Squad 12, being a skilled mage... at least for only being at Stage 2. He was able to summon some minor creatures using magic, however, they were mainly used as distractions more than anything else.

All three of them along with Tempest and Isak were all part of squad 12. The Fame guild was one of the largest adventuring guilds in Sige. Guilds like the Fame Guild were tasked with protecting anyone within the land of Sige, a large continent that sat just north of the Royal Blue, a large sea of small islands home to no government. Most missions squad 12 ever get consist of killing bandits or wild beasts that terrorize cattle and steal crops, along with the occasional band of goblins or orcs if they're unlucky. The higher-staged squads of the guild get more dangerous jobs, but none of them were ever skilled enough to go on them. They were all only 2nd stage members in the guild alongside Tempest, the leader of squad 12, who is a 3rd stage member. The Fame guild ranked the skill of their members by these stages: 1st stage being the weakest, up to 6th stage being the strongest, although they were extremely rare. For most people being at a 4th or 5th stage by the end of their life was acceptable.

Regardless of their stage however, this was their day off. So what better way to spend the day than to go on a trip to the nearby ruins of an ancient Icaryian temple? Well, Darris could think of a few better ways to spend his time. However, this venture was a suggestion by Tempest and it would've been rude to turn it down.

"Oh calm down, they've probably just gone down the path to set up camp and look at the scenery," Elrik said, the large half-orc walking past Trent, bumping into him and nearly knocking him over. He was the 'wall' of the group, as the squad called it. He wore heavy scale mail and wielded a large battle axe that slung over his back. As far as pure strength went, he was superior to anyone else in the squad.

Darris was the best swordsman in the group next to Isak, albeit Isak often used a longsword and shield rather than the scimitar that Darris used. Then there was Tempest, a 3rd stage mage who, according to himself, was the best abjurer in his class at the mages academy he'd studied at. Only about half of the people he tells believe him. Nonetheless, he was still at Stage 3, which was nothing to scoff at by any means.

Darris followed shortly after him and Trent tailed Darris. The three of them had known each other since before any of them had joined the Fame Guild. From the time they were young, they always got into trouble. From stealing a sword from Elrik's dad's forge, which was much more trouble than it was worth, from taking a 'shortcut' through the woods one night and finding themselves in a cave until the next morning. They had all signed up for the Fame guild seeking a thrilling job, and they weren't disappointed in the slightest.

"There you guys are. Took you long enough. I thought Mr. Pointy-ears were gonna keep spouting history till nightfall." Isak shouted from the inside of what used to be a hut but now consisted of two walls and half of a ceiling. In the middle of the ruins, Isak and Tempest had set up a small campfire with bedrolls scattered around it.

"That's what I'd said," Elrik said, taking a seat on his bedroll.

"Not my fault no one said you guys'd left," Trent said, a slight bit of red appearing on his cheeks. "Anyways, where's Tempest?" He asked, attempting to change the subject.

As if on queue, a figure dressed in grey robes fell from the ceiling, landing in the middle of the group in a burst of ancient dust. His skin was a deep purple and his eyes were pure lavender, with two rigid horns piercing out above them. Tempest smiled and ruffled Trent's hair. "On the ceiling." He answered before pointing in a direction through the wall. "By the way, there's a large ziggurat I've seen through the tree line" He put an arm around Trent's neck in a headlock for a moment before letting go. "We could go look around there later once we get the camp set up."

"Can we eat first? We hadn't got a bite since we left the guild hall in Neshni." Elrik asked Tempest, omitting the bundle of dried meats and hardtack he had eaten as a snack. "Of course, we can eat. Everyone, grab a bite and settle down. Afterward, we head to the ziggurat."

The group of Squad 12 sat around the fire, eating their fill of the various provisions they'd brought with them. "So what do you all plan to do once you retire from the guild?" Trent asked, sitting cross-legged; closer to the fire than anyone.

Isak swallowed a piece of jerky before answering. "You ask that like any of us are old enough to retire." The group laughed, apart from Trent. Seeing this Isak sat down across the fire from Trent. "Honestly, I plan on dying before I retire. People don't remember the corpse of an old man. They remember the corpse of great heroes. Those are the people who get buried in the great palaces and get a front-row seat on Mount Celestia." He said facing upwards and holding out his arms as if a god would fall and bless him right then.

This time Elrik laughed and hit Isak on the back, nearly hard enough for him to tumble into the fire, granting a curse from Isak. "That's what I'm talking about. If I die, I'll die fighting some great beast." He said, holding his arms up and flexing them. That got a laugh out of everyone.

"Seriously? I'd like to live as long as I can. I wouldn't want to die, regardless of how." Trent said, seeming to shrink down.

Elrik rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. You're an elf. Don't they live for like... a thousand years?" He said, taking a seat next to Tempest. His hulking figure made Tempest look so small in comparison. Then again he had that effect with everyone.

"Only about 800 years." Trent corrected.

Elrik scoffed. "Only? Do you have any idea how long that is?" He said. "Wish I were an elf." He mumbled.

Tempest chuckled. "An orc wanting to be an elf? Never thought I'd see the day," He joked. "If you would've said that during the Crimson Crusade you would have had your head lopped from your shoulders." He said.

Elrik rolled his eyes. "Oh no, better watch my head so it doesn't roll away," he said sarcastically. Then he leaned over to Tempest, and loud enough for everyone to hear, 'whispered': "What's the Crimson Crusade?"

"A war a few thousand years ago," Trent answered. "Between orcs and elves. They nearly drove each other to extinction. If either side had a suspicion that one of their own was helping the other side they would be executed. No exceptions." He said.

Elrik rolled his eyes. "Smartass." He mumbled before turning to Tempest. "Hey Tempest," Elrik began, halfway through a large piece of charred meat. "What is the toughest monster you've ever faced?" He asked, taking another bite into the meat.

Tempest leaned back and thought for a moment. "The toughest creature I've faced?" He asked himself, staring up at the rolling clouds above him. He began spinning a small silver ring on his finger. He has never seen him without it, yet never spoke of it. "I wasn't alone, I was with another squad of stage 4s, the squad leader being a 5th stage member."

A brief silence settled over the group as they all listened to the story.

"We had ventured into a cave within the southern wastes. Something about a beast killing the cattle around the area and demolishing a small town." He leaned forward and stared into the fire. Suddenly he seemed sad. Elrik almost felt sorry for asking the question.

"In the cave, we found a great deal of gold. The first moment we'd thought we would get nearly payday; we should have known that gold in that amount only meant one thing. The next moment a mass of azure scales arose from the hoard of gold, its wicked maw crackling with lightning. The horrid beast was nearly twice the size of this building." He gestured around at the small building they'd rested in. "We all fought for our lives, the weaker-willed of us, including me, fled and hid. The very presence of such a creature is enough to send a shiver through your bones."

Tempest sighed and stood up. He turned away to lean against a crumbling wall, looking off into the overgrown city they stood in. "Once I'd gained a bit of will I launched the strongest spell I could at the creature." He faintly chuckled. "Turns out that a dragon that spews storms from its maw doesn't care much when lightning the size of its tooth hits its chest. It wasn't even phased. So I hid again until I heard the screaming stop. When I looked back the dragon was dead, so too were most of the squad. Of the 8 people in the squad, only 3 survived." Tempest took out a worn and dented emblem of the Fame guild and began fumbling it in his hands. They all knew the emblem wasn't his, he prided himself on keeping it polished. 'The emblem is a manifestation of our pride for the guild' he always said. "We learned later that the dragon was only a young adult. It wasn't even fully aged." He nearly chuckled. "I don't want to imagine what fighting an elder dragon would feel like."

For a long time, everyone was silent. Isak and Darris silently scolded Elrik upon asking the question, even though they all thought the same. However, neither of them thought it would've been so traumatic for him.

Eventually, the silence was broken by Tempest himself. "Alright, well enough of this solemn mood. those things are in the past." He said, getting up to his feet. "We best be heading off to that ziggurat then."

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