I think a bit as I walk into the city I've chosen to officially start my career as an adventurer: Eastgate, a small town towards the edge of civilization, serving as the st stop where one can buy things before exiting to the less tamed nds. Officially, I am going to need to join an adventuring team. As a recent graduate of my Mom's university, that would normally be somewhat difficult without joining up with other graduates (who'd know the shadow I'm in)… but Mom gave me a rather nice graduation gift, so it should be as easy as everything else has been since then, assuming I don't just use the summoning powers she gave me as part of that to fake a full team. Uncle C. gave me a graduation gift too, but it's… odd. He named me as his champion… prophet, really… which is fine: I mean, I can talk to my mom and everyone on her side of the family (and vice-versa) whenever, and that's certainly useful. The blessing to demonstrate my status, though? Mom gets to decide my build like she would a character she was pying with her old gaming group? What does that even mean?

  We'll, at least I can trust both of them.

  I shouldn't use Alex, my real name: I don't want to ride on my family fame… I stop at the gate in the giant wooden palisade and pay the guard the entry fee for a man on foot with a pet (three coppers, here). His steel pte armor and rge steel shield are old, but well cared for. The longbow on his back is new, and I can't be sure about the broadsword in a sheath at his side… it doesn't matter too much, though: It's the horn that actually matters. He blows his tune on that and half the town comes running to the gate; the poorer folks with sing stones, the richer folks with crossbows or longbows. The really rich folks who spent some time at Mom's school might have the newer gunpowder weapons… but those are still quite rare. Regardless: Everyone is armed, and everyone understands that a threat to the gate is a threat to everyone… and that very little will survive massed fire.

  Truthfully, though, most of it is there as a visible threat: Anything smarter than a zombie knows to stay away from towns… or at least to behave well near them. Massed fire from the general popution deals with most things, hostile armies attract the crown's troops, and single opponents with “DR” as my Mom calls it are dealt with by the local adventurer's guildhouse… and compensated by the crown out of the town coffers. This doesn't stop the new beasts that leak out of untended dungeons from trying, so they always need to stay vigint, but most dungeons are tended (and untended ones are systemically hunted down and terminated for safety reasons), so that's pretty rare.

  I idly dodge a woman emptying her chamber pot from a second story window as I make my way to the guildhouse; I guess Mom hasn't gotten to this town with her sewer system installers yet… I must admit, having experienced that “indoor plumbing”, and now the ck… I much prefer her improvements. As I get to the guildhouse door, I settle on what names I'm going to use: Mom often called me ‘Marty Stu’ or ‘Mary Sue’ when I got lucky on something, depending on which of my forms I was in at the time… I'll use that.

  I don't bother to knock: It's a business of a sort, rgely open to the public, and this is working hours. I simply push open the two stone doors (they're very well banced) that were put into the Wall of Stone construction via Fabricate while a wizard (or some other caster) was building the pce. I walk into the great hall of the guild, and walk straight across the mostly-empty space to the well-lit desk (also stone). This location is using Continual Fme spells on rocks in small alcoves to light the pce… that works well right up until the local dungeon has to be terminated, but given that these folks are the ones responsible for keeping it properly tended, I suppose that doesn't matter.

  The woman in robes behind the desk has green skin, yellow eyes, brown hair starting to go gray, and pointed ears rising up above her hairline. There's certainly a human cast to her features, but this half orc woman favors her orcish parent more. She looks up from her book as I approach, “What can I do for you?” Her tone is perfunctory; she's required to ask, but would rather get back to her book. The name pte on the desk says “Aldamen.”

  But it is her job, “I'm here to register as an adventurer.”

  The half-orc looks me over… I don't look like much. I'm currently a mostly unremarkable young man with an average build and brown hair. I have an animal companion (specifically a warcat cub, who is as big as I am) that was part of the gift from my mom… sort of. More accurately I should say the knowledge of how to call and properly bond with one was one small part of the gift: The Animal Companion talent, taken twice, from the Beastmastery Sphere. Most people don't know the underlying mechanics at all, though, and that method isn't accessible for anyone other than Mom and those she gifts it to anyway. I also have a familiar (specifically a raven) keeping an eye on things outside, and I can do a zillion other things, too. But I have basically zero equipment showing. Ever since Mom's gift, armor has felt way too restrictive. I've taken to using a sling for fighting at range (because I can't find a bow to match my arms), a simple longspear for when I want just a little reach, and simply use my fists when I want to get up close and personal in a fight... because the weapon no longer matters. What little gear I need I keep in Warp Storage so it can't be easily stolen, so all I look like I have is my clothes, two weapons, and a Holly and mistletoe combination.

  So when the guildmaster asks the obvious question… “And your type?”

  …I go with the obvious answer, “Druid,” even though it's a lie.

  The woman nods, “Well, you're in luck: I like to test folks’ magic. Shall we go to the testing room?”

  All guildhalls have the same basic yout, which I’ve studied, so I know exactly which direction Aldamen is headed before she even gets up from her desk: The fighting hall is not far. I follow as expected, pass the double stone doors, and close them behind us. There's a rack of rattan practice weapons, which I ignore: This is apparently going to be a magic test.

  I let the half-orc speak first; I am an applicant, and she's the guildmaster, after all, “Okay… so while this is a magic test, I also like to see some blood, so we'll be doing a summoning. Get your best combat beast out, I'll get mine, and we'll have them go at it. Sound good?”

  Mom set me up with like twenty options… I have a full adventuring party, mounts, and a few combat beasts… none of which hold a candle to me after Mom's gift… which means this is actually a good choice if I don't want to put a hole in the building, “Sounds good.”

  I concentrate a moment, and pull up one of the battle beasts from Conjuration: A Huge creature with all the trimmings… which, honestly, looks like something out of a nightmare. Dragon scales, wings, eight legs, twelve arms, three heads, everything ending in pointy bits (including the scales)… she is a meat grinder.

  My tester takes a step back and mutters, “What in the abyss is that?” as she begins her casting, bringing up a huge lizard with thick body ptes and a heavily muscled tail ending in a bent club; I recognize it as a Celestial Ankylosaurus, and the spell she used as Summon Monster V.

  Now, while my meat grinder there actually does hit pretty hard… she's a paper tiger. Mom tells me I'm still first level, and while my companion there has ALL the options… she can't take a hit very well, and the ceiling here is much too low for her to get out of range and whittle the target down with ranged attacks (and yes, she has some of those).

  Fortunately, Summons inherit the summoner’s reaction speed, and part of Mom's gift grants me insane reflexes, so my beast gets a few hits in before the dinosaur does… and each attack is poisonous.

  It's not enough, though. My summoned creature is hit and dazed by the dinosaur, which means my opponent can just do the same again and again, without my beast having much of a chance to fight back after that... most fights are decided in the first six seconds.

  I back away from the fight, and quietly pull the guildmaster back as well… because when her summon wins, mine explodes in a burst of fire. I mean, it's not particurly hot fire, but it would hurt the guildmaster a little… probably.

  Interestingly, the detonation is enough to finish off the dinosaur, who was quite bloodied by my meatgrinder and weakened by the poison.

  As the echos of the fight fade from the room, the guildmaster looks at me sideways, “Where did you get that eldritch abomination?”

  I shrug and give a half-answer to the half-orc, “I have unusual training,” which is true as far as it goes: Not many attend Mom's school yet, and it was part of Mom's graduation present, so could qualify as training, if I look at it sideways.

  She considers me a bit, “Right… well, actually defeating me isn't a joining requirement, we're just trying to get a feel for you, and that's a pass. Come, let's get you registered….”

  The paperwork doesn't take long: Just a couple of minutes filling out lies about who I am and where I'm from. None of it will be checked any time soon: A LOT of guild members are running from someone or something, so lies on that paperwork are quite normal. I'll need to come clean to the review board if I ever want to be a guildmaster myself, but eh, by then I should have my own well-eatablished reputation.

  I pay the hundred crown fee and take my steel ID card when Aldamen hands it to me, thank her, and head off to the nearest pub… which is, of course, right next door.