The Hunter’s Guide To Monsters-Chapter 72: Registration (1)

Krow stood before the First Tower of Cerkanst.

He'd been there for over a minute.

He was becoming irritated with himself the longer he didn't move.

He had accepted his choice fully.

There was no reason to delay.

He'd taken the last hometown quest and even finished the hidden quest of exorcising a ghost.

Though, like the mothmarmot quest, he had to ask: was it normal for Hidden Quests to lunge at your face and try to eat you whole?

How was that even 'hidden'?

He took a breath, aware he was stalling.

There was no reason to delay, he told himself again.

But here, on the day he was about to register, a shadow of the disappointment he felt when first he saw the village rose and created doubts in his heart.

It was possible to change a hometown registration.

But only in Redlands.

In Zushkenar, a citizen's papers could not be edited to change the birthplace. Unless a half dozen people in the administration of two or more villages and towns were bribed.

Krow let the emotions he felt wash over him.

Then he huffed, squared his shoulders and walked in.

The community registration was something unique to Redlands.

Because of the great importance of trade to the players of the initial craft-heavy game, it was necessary to register as a member of various communities or stay as a rogue business.

The intention was greater immersion into the fantasy world.

The feature was retained in the Masters of War expansion, with its own upgrades.

In every race it was different.

There were rituals and tattoos for example, in the Dryad and the Trollkin villages to be part of the community.

In the Dwarvir villages, he heard there was singing and lots of booze.

The last time, as a human, he had to run around the village, chasing NPCs and doing paperwork for a name token. He had to get his application stamped by six village officials.

Without the token, he couldn't open a bank account or interact with certain quest NPCs.

He wasn't sure what the draculkar registration was like. The forum said they had to give blood and play a game.

Sarnaan grinned a greeting at him as he strode into the tower hall. "How is our snake hunter today?"

"Wanting to register as a resident, actually."

Sarnaan leaned back, surprised. "Here? In Cerkanst?"

"Why not?"

She leaned close. "You have just reached your majority?"

"I have."

She smiled and bowed briefly. "Congratulations on your twenty-fifth year."

"I'm twenty-seven, in fact." He bowed back similarly. "But thank you."

"Ah." She studied him, then nodded, motioned to follow her. "Why here, and not in a larger town? Better yet, the city?"

The hometown quests in towns and cities were slightly different, involving making acquaintance of the city or town watch, then getting them to sponsor you for registered citizenship.

That was he'd done the last time. It required innumerous security jobs and watch missions.

"I haven't entered a stronghold of our people for a long time. I thought a smaller place would be more comfortable." Backstory, he knew, would only help after the Quake.

Nomads were a source of many quests in Redlands. In Zushkenar, they were looked down on by land-owners.

She smiled at him. "Understandable. Your guardians are joining you later?"

Krow shook his head. "I have been alone for years now."

Sarnaan looked stricken, and inclined her head in a show of sympathy.

Gojo did say that draculkar rarely conceived more than three children, which meant their population was one of the lowest in Zushkenar. "Many are lost to the distant horizon. I am sorry that they are not here for you at this time."

"We are Kin; we heed the Call." Krow mouthed one of the many many things he heard Gojo repeat like a mantra during the years of their friendship.

Gojo was Gomularje Ogvaander, had been one of the few draculkar contracted as a guard for the crafters of Findrakon. He explained that draculkar hoarded knowledge obsessively, and to leave the mountain cities to travel in search of it was honorable.

Scholar and Archaeologist were two of the most respected subclasses a draculkar might take.

But certain of the race also thought it was too dangerous to allow their people to run around Zushkenar because of their low numbers.

"Mm." Sarnaan nodded in acknowledgement. But she also grasped his shoulder briefly, in condolence.

He smiled at her. It had been years since anyone had comforted him for the death of his parents.

She pushed aside a hanging curtain and stopped at a stone door, a large stone block on two posts. She did something with her fingers at a small panel on the wall.

The door opened, with the noise of stone scraping against stone.

"This is the entrance to the vault of names." She motioned to the doorway, stairs leading down into darkness. "You must go alone."

Ominous.

Krow studied the doorway dubiously.

How exactly did they draw blood for this thing?

"The clan records cannot be taken out of the rooms below, of course." Sarnaan continued. "And I assure you, the place is very protected. We are a village close to the lowland paths, after all."

That wasn't what concerned Krow, but he only nodded.

"If you are in need of anything else, I will be at the front halls, as usual."

"Thank you." He took the stairs.

The lamp above his head burst with blue light and his heart leaped to his mouth, hand flashing to the gun at his hip. He heard a slight chuckle from Sarnaan before the door behind him shut with a resounding finality.

He turned to glare at the carved stone of the door, trying to calm the blood pounding through his veins.

He walked down the stairs, the blue mage-lamps turning on as he went.

Then suddenly, the stair he trod on lit up with a faint green glow. He froze.

Draculkar lived in ancient towers, rebuilding their houses again and again, so that the inner parts of a building might stand over a thousand towers.

And in Zushkenar, you learn wariness of ancient places.

He crouched down slowly, eyes alert.

Was this the draculkar registration challenge?

There was no lamp past the glowing stair, he noticed.

He took his foot off the light-giving stair, backing away and crouching over it, turning himself nearly upside down to study it. What was the difference between it and the other stairs?

He only just noticed the band of carved writing, when another stair glowed further down. He heard clicking in the walls, gears and mechanisms.

Oh no.

He leaped headfirst down the stairs, utilizing his dexterity to tumble and flip.

One foot and one hand barely touched the second glowing stair, when he saw another glow further down.

He twisted his body toward it, intuition born of years as a forester in Zushkenar blaring warning, only just missing the slicing blades as they breezed past him.

Speed.. Draculkar were known for speed of movement.