“Yes,” Jerikall had eventually replied with a tone of infuriating tranquillity, “the guild employs a mix of permanent residents and temporary recruits. Adventurers who exchange their skills for food, shelter, or pay. Among them are seasoned fighters, spotters with exceptional senses like yours, and sometimes even legendary treasure hunters and wizard scholars.”
That remark about his senses had shut Yu up abruptly — Exceptional senses? Yu almost laughed at the absurdity. What the fuck had Tria been telling them? Whatever it was, they would be well disappointed soon enough.
Not that Jerikall’s answer convinced him. Yu had mulled it over during the long, wet march, but the logic did not track. Why would anyone with real talent and skill, any fighter capable of standing their ground against a Shaira, for instance, waste their life here? The guild offered food and a roof, sure, but there had to be a shitload of better places in the world for people like that.
What did Albweiss offer, really? A barren, icy wasteland infested with brutal storms and cold. For Yu, it had been four weeks of wet clothes and wet feet and wet food and wet everything. It had felt like an eternity, and he had hated every second of it.
And that was not even the worst of it.
The voices.
They had been so loud.
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