Starlight Necromancer

Foster finished writing his basic information on the sheet of paper that he was given by the public guild employee. The information was roughly similar to what he had to fill out to enter the tournament, just a lot more detailed. It still didn\'t ask for too specific information, it just asked for a lot more than the one before. For example, there were areas that Foster had to cross off depending on what sorts of abilities he had, and then there were also some spots that one could fill up with information about personal achievements, not that it was something that really mattered to him. He\'s been a part of this world for not even two months now.

When he was finally done, he placed the pen down on the desk and handed the multiple pages of the document back to the employee, who quickly glanced over them.

"Oh? You have a resistance to Necromancy? How did you get a hold of that?" The employee asked curiously, since it was clearly a rather unique ability. And that was just when it was a \'resistance\', instead of a complete \'invincibility\' to it. But luckily, in one of the books that Foster took from Thiodrus\' cabin, he read of ways to increase one\'s resistance to Necromancy, something that was clearly important for a Necromancer to have.

"Well... I can\'t actually say for sure, but as far as I know, I died while my mother gave birth to me, and was immediately resurrected by a powerful priest my parents knew. That\'s the only way I would know I could have gotten it." Foster explained. He didn\'t like giving out personal information to random people, but... when it was fake information? He really didn\'t mind that much. It might actually just turn out rather helpful to him somehow, establishing himself with in this world with a fake background that some people might end up spreading around.

"Ah, I think I heard of that kind of phenomenon... Yeah, during your birth, you are particularly vulnerable to outward magic influences." The employee slowly nodded his head, but soon raised it to look back at Foster, "I do apologize for asking such an insensitive question, however. But it is a rather unique claim, so I had to at least hear a reason behind it. When people make false claims on these documents, they often back out when we ask them about it. Of course it\'s not enough to verify it as an absolute fact, but it\'s enough, at least." The employee neatly placed the pages on top of each other, and then slowly pushed them to the side.

"Alright, then everything is set for now. You just need to return in a week to pick up your Guild Card, in exchange for a fee of 25 Val that we ask you to provide in exchange. For now, I will work on giving you a temporary pass, so that you can be verified as a provisionary Guild Member." The employee explained in a blunt and professional voice, "Now, if you happen to join a private guild, please inform us a week before your official entry into that guild so that we can prepare everything properly."

"Perfect, sounds good." Foster said with a smile, as the employee wrote on a small wooden board the sitze of a credit-card. When he was done, the ink lit up in a dim light, and the information was carved into the small wooden board, which was quickly handed to Foster just a moment later.

"Here you go. Then for now, would that be everything?" The employee asked, and Foster slowly turned around toward Octer and Lynol, and the two of them seemingly already had something else that they wanted to ask.

"Yeah, actually..." Octer started, and Lynol quickly continued, since the two of them seemed to be on the same page with this, "Can you perchance recommend a Handler for us that the three of us can work with? We\'re new in Arcadum."

"Hm? Handler?" Foster slowly let out, since that was a surprisingly familiar term. He had a few Handlers working under him that helped him manage the people that worked under him in the Syndicate. Basically, they were just managers, or rather, middle-men that would give Foster\'s requests to the right person. He couldn\'t really remember all of his underlings, after all. Only the ones that directly worked under him, those that he tried to train himself when he was bored or just had the time.

"Yeah, we\'ll explain it later." Octer told Foster, who just shrugged and went along with this. They would probably know best in regard to all this guild-stuff.

The employee quickly nodded his head and smiled at the group, "Yes, we indeed do have a few Handlers working closely together with us. There is a particularly skilled on that is currently looking for new people in her care. If you would like, I could prepare a meeting with her by the time you come back to pick the Guild Card up in a week?"

"That would be great, yes. Thank you." Lynol replied with a brief nod, "We\'ll come back soon, then. We still have to settle in and learn more about the city."

"Ah, of course. The great library on the east side of town is open for anyone to enter, so I suggest you head there. There, you will be able to find plenty of information about the city and its history." The employee explained with a smile, before he intertwined his fingers with each other, "Is there anything else I may help you with?"

"For now, that\'s it. Thanks, man." Octer said, and he quickly turned around with a slight wave, and was followed out of the building by Foster and Lynol. Once they were all outside, Foster looked at his friends with a wry smile, "That was a bit more... bureaucratic than I thought it was going to be."

"Bureau-what-ic?" Octer replied with a wry smile, "In my opinion, it just felt kinda dry. I mean, at least I wasn\'t called a dumbass first thing. That\'s usually what happens in guilds... especially public guilds."

"Public guilds are the reason why I have a reinforced strap on my mask. Way too often did people try to rip it off my face. Sometimes, succeeding, in fact." Lynol added, "An in return, I would bash their fac-"

"Yup, that\'s about what I expected. I don\'t know, so many of these places here are just... Weirdly... You know, familiar." Foster explained, focusing especially on the last word, something that both Octer and Lynol picked up on.

"So you\'re saying..."

"That there are more people like me here."