The Lineage of the White Wolf — Grandol

The Lineage of the White Wolf — Grandol

Grandol, AKA the Land of Labyrinths, was considered the seat of the Adventurer’s Guild. True to its name, dungeons dotted the land, teeming with ferocious creatures. It was a crossroad for all adventurers seeking glory or strength, green and veteran alike, earning the region its well-known pseudonym, the Land of Beginning and End.

It had been two years since A-rank party the Lineage of the White Wolf had arrived in the area with Sekiros’s and Basura’s wives, Melina and Mernell. And that was all the time they’d needed to make a name for themselves, but things weren’t always smooth sailing for the five of them.

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Bazan downed his pint and slammed it on the counter. “The hell were you doing? We woulda got ’im if you’d went in for the kill!”

Sekiros and Basura had nothing to say for themselves. Their night at the tavern after reporting back to the guild for their mission was filled with anything but cheer. Hunt after hunt, job after job, the party had only met with failure. At first, they’d written it off. Just a little slip-up. But the slip-ups kept happening, and they could no longer ignore the issue at hand. The one thing they were in sync about was that they needed to talk, so they had plodded their way to their favorite tavern to do just that.

“But it wasn’t safe,” Basura argued. “What if it countered us?”

“It wasn’t safe?” the leader spat, glaring. “Since when do we give two shits about workplace safety? We made it this far by bein’ ruthless, by havin’ each other’s backs.”

Bazan had a feeling he knew what this was about. It was their new family—the ex-receptionists they’d married. The Lineage had always fought instinctually with the innate combat senses that most beastfolk had, but now that two of the trio had a reason to come home every day, their strategy had become inherently more defensive in nature.

This was never an issue in Merratoni, where they’d excelled in the field and risen quickly to the prestigious A-rank, but the monsters in Grandol were different. The vicious beasts were cunning, and the cracks in the team were starting to show. They were hit once more with the fear of death. The smallest mistake in coordination could mean the difference between life and a gruesome end. While Bazan fought like they always had, purely offensively, Sekiros and Basura had unconsciously adopted more timid strategies, effectively shattering their time-tested collaboration and trademark decisiveness all at once.

Still, Bazan knew he couldn’t snap at his friends and blame their marriages for their problems. Not only would it be wrong, it would only come off as the jealous ramblings of a man with a broken heart. It was agony.

He stared at the other two, who sat in silence, then said, “We’ll need to rethink our strategy. Go home.” And that was that.

He sighed as he watched his partymates leave for their families, feeling a twinge of sadness at the thought of returning to the lonely inn by himself. The team was in dire straits. It was obvious to everyone. But their long friendship had held them together through these trying times, and the thought of disbanding the party never crossed any of their minds.

Bazan agonized over how to make things the way they used to be—no, even better. Meanwhile, Sekiros and Basura, well aware of the source of their struggles, considered how they might mend the divide in their group.

One day, during a get-together orchestrated by Melina and Mernell, the wives had an idea for the trio.

“Why not try teaching new adventurers?”

“What? Wait, you know how rough things are right now. It’s no time to be playing coach,” Sekiros refuted as gently as he could. The other two men nodded in agreement.

“Well, yeah, we know what you guys are going through,” Melina said.

“Then—”

“That’s what it’s for,” Mernell interjected.

It was for them. Their current situation was precisely why instructing newbies, going back to their roots, was exactly what they needed to climb out of their rut. And with less experienced adventurers around, an element of defense would be necessary to their strategy, thereby balancing out their offense-heavy tactics from the past.

But the three weren’t convinced, and it took much pressing from their wiser halves before the party acquiesced. From then on, the Lineage started to supplement their main diet of labyrinths and hunts with guiding new adventurers through dungeons and defense jobs. And wouldn’t you know it, the results amazed them.

Through the shared goal of protecting greenhorns, they suddenly started to function as a unit again, just as Melina and Mernell had predicted. They continued to hone their style, taking on yet more work centered around the novices, until everyone came to know the Lineage of the White Wolf as one of the preeminent parties in leadership. The three were aware of their reputation, but they also knew there was always a bigger fish and never let it go to their heads.

And so the Lineage spent the next two years slowly taking on guild-recognized labyrinths, from the lowest-ranked to the highest, one at a time. They made average, respectable progress at first, but soon skyrocketed to fame as one of the most efficient teams in Grandol. But what spurred this on? A simple conversation at the guildhall they had happened to overhear.

“You gotta check your sources, man. No way those penny-pinching healers would start lowering their prices now, all of a sudden.”

“I couldn’t believe it either, but that’s what I heard from some merchants who just got back from Shurule. They can’t all be lying.”

“Huh. Well, here’s hoping there’s not some catch to it.”

“Got that right. I hear it all started ’cause o’ some new S-rank healer. Bit of a weirdo, apparently.”

“A weirdo? Yeah, healers doin’ their jobs for cheap is pretty weird, I’ll give ya that. But I’m not convinced this is all on the up and up yet.”

“Yeah, right? I feel ya. But get this. They say that healer’s been weird for ages. He lived at some Adventurer’s Guild for a while.”

“Okay, now they’re just blowin’ smoke.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The Lineage listened to the boisterous adventurers, and one specific person immediately came to mind: Luciel.

“Guy’s an S-rank now? Shit, he’s showin’ us up,” Basura said.

“We gotta catch up and hit S-rank ourselves,” Sekiros added.

“Whaddya say we make sure we’re there before we see ’im again?” Bazan suggested.

This new passion was the flame that fueled the party’s unnatural speed with which they tore through labyrinths, but they couldn’t have done it without the support of ex-receptionists Mernell and Melina, of course. The pair had made good use of the skills they’d picked up during their time as Adventurer’s Guild staff, gathering intel on dungeons, pointing the boys in the direction of less threatening labyrinths, and ensuring their path to the bigger, badder ones was smooth. Mernell also had a good eye for equipment and furnished the team with high-quality potions and magic items, while Melina cooked, planned routes, and handled the logistics of transportation and lodging. Thanks to their help, the only thing on the party’s mind was getting stronger and climbing the ranks.

Unfortunately, the Lineage couldn’t keep their momentum going forever. Their ceaseless progress was eventually put to a stop by the guild, who ordered the party to suspend work and take a moment to rest. This didn’t happen often, as it was guild policy to interfere in its members’ affairs as little as possible, but the Lineage had become too valuable to the constant flow of new adventurers to let them stretch themselves too thin.

The team protested at first, but only at first, because the guild mandate aside, they were forced to pause their path of labyrinth destruction for an entirely different reason: Mernell and Melina had become pregnant. Needless to say, Basura and Sekiros subsequently became too distracted, so their activities went on hiatus for a while. The big question was whether to stay in Grandol or move back to Merratoni, where it was safer and easier to raise a family. Ultimately, though, they chose to stay.

Time passed, and the Lineage continued to take on modest work, when they received a direct, named request from the guild itself. The job: instruct and protect two new adventurers, foreign noblewomen who had hidden their identities to join the guild in secret.

Bazan wondered how he might weasel out of it, but then he recalled the relationship Brod and Luciel shared. To teach others is to learn as much about yourself as the student does about the subject at hand. And so he agreed.

A week later, the trio left for the guild to meet their clients, but what they found was a hall buzzing with rumors about an E-rank adventurer who had slain a dragon.

Bazan gave the gasbags a bored look. “Guess it’s a good thing they’ve got nothing better to do than gossip about bullshit.”

Sekiros put a hand to his chin pensively, then his eyes shot open. “Bazan, listen. They’re saying it was in Yenice.”

“Really? You think there’s an E-rank in Yenice who can take down a dragon? People say all sorts o’ shit.”

“Yeah. Right.”

But just then, they heard something else. “Yeah, for real! The dragonslayer’s a friggin’ healer!”

The trio exchanged glances.

“Did... Did you guys hear them say ‘healer’ just now?”

Sekiros shared in Bazan’s shock. “I sure did.”

As did Basura. “That’s some healer. Heh, I must be tired. I just thought of Luciel for some reason.” But there was no way that craven, spineless kid could have been a dragonslayer. It was simply impossible. “It can’t be.”

“But it’s true he went to Yenice to rebuild the Healer’s Guild there, yeah?” Sekiros said.

“What if we...” Bazan shook his head. “No, guess we can’t see for ourselves.”

“Not with the girls the way they are.”

“Sorry, Bazan,” Basura said.

“It is what it is. We can do some investigating on our own. Don’t gotta see the guy in person to find out what really happened. He can’t be the dragonslayer. No way.”

“We should go a round next time we see him.”

Sekiros laughed. “Like he’d ever agree to that.”

“Don’t do anything you’re gonna regret,” Bazan warned. “You don’t want the Whirlwind smellin’ a fight.”

“You think I’m stupid? I know that,” Basura said. “I still can’t believe that kid could be a dragonslayer.”

Bazan remembered the young healer. He’d always had something to complain about. He was a whiner, that was for sure, but determined, and he never gave up once his mind was made. Bazan thought he could learn a thing or two from the kid. Maybe then he could stand with the greats like Brod, Galba, and Gulgar.

The party met with their clients, a pair of adventuring sisters, soon after... A meeting that would one day bring the Lineage and Luciel together once more.