The flickering glow of bioluminescent fungi struggled to illuminate the narrow alley, casting long, dancing shadows that distorted the already strange wares on display.
Rainwater, never fully draining in this forgotten corner of the city, collected in murky puddles that reflected the garish glow of enchanted trinkets and the sullen faces of the vendors.
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth, exotic spices, that were now a luxury among the high-class nobles; and something vaguely metallic, perhaps the lingering aroma of questionable elixirs.
Grey, his hood pulled up and his face morphed with the mask to that of Austin's, navigated through the treacherous path, his boots splashing through the icy water. Merchants, their faces obscured by shadows or elaborate masks, hawked their goods in hushed, guttural tones.
A goblin with too many teeth tried to sell him a 'genuine skill stone' with intricate runes carved on the surface, that looked suspiciously like a painted pebble, while a cloaked figure offered a body strengthening potion in a cheap and foggy glass vial.
The cacophony of whispers, the clinking of illicit coins, and the occasional sharp crackle of a malfunctioning magic device formed a symphony of chaos.
Grey ignored them all, his gaze fixed on a particular establishment further down the alley. It's signboard, once proudly declaring "Elara's Exotic Emporium", now hung precariously by a single rusted chain, the letters faded and chipped, barely legible, with one side of the wooden sign rotted away entirely, leaving a gaping, toothless maw.
As he pushed away a heavy, mildewed curtain that served as the shop's door, a bell above chimed a weak, mournful note. The interior was even darker than the alley, lit only by a single, sputtering oil lamp on a counter laden with forgotten relics.
Behind it, hunched over a tome so ancient, its pages seemed to be crumbling into dust, sat an old elf. His skin was like weathered parchment, stretched taut over sharp bones, and his eyes, though clouded with age, held a knowing, ancient light as he slowly lifted his head.
"With what business did your feet seek the way to my doors, young man?" the elf asked in his old raspy voice.
"I search for the crescent moon lost within the bright light of the midday sun." Grey said looking dead into the eyes of the elf.
The old elf didn't even flinch or act surprised. Without wasting a second, he questioned Grey again.
"Have you found it then?"
"The days have grown long. I'm waiting for the night to fall." Grey replied firmly.
The old elf, his eyes still fixed on Grey with an unnerving intensity, slowly closed the ancient book with a soft sigh. A network of fine wrinkles crinkled around his eyes, as a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
Without a word, he raised his age-spotted hand, his long fingers like ancient roots. With a precise, deliberate movement, he snapped his fingers.
From the point where his fingers met, a shimmering, translucent sphere of pure, cerulean mana blossomed outwards.
As the mana sphere expanded, touching the dusty shelves and the grimy walls, the entire interior of the shop underwent a miraculous transformation. The rotting wood of the shelves seemed to mend itself, the dust vanishing in swirling motes light that dissolved in the air.
What were once the indistinguishable piles of junk suddenly revealed themselves as intricate artifacts. Even the single, sputtering oil lamp brightened, its flame burning with steady, golden glow that felt warm and inviting.
The mana sphere reached the walls, washing over the cracked plaster and faded tapestries, instantly restoring them to their former glory. The transformation happened in a matter of heartbeat, leaving the shop a vibrant, almost ethereal space, a stark contrast to the dark alley outside.
The old elf lowered his hand, his knowing smile widened slightly, as if he had merely flicked a switch.
As Grey begun to take a step towards him, the elf's form began to shimmer. The papery, age worn skin smoothened and tightened. The brittle grey hairs darkened, thickening and growing long, falling like a cascade of spun obsidian over narrow shoulders.
His entire frame shrank and refined, the loose tunic falling away to reveal a form that seemed impossibly slender and graceful. In the blink of an eye, the ancient stooped elf was gone, replaced by a figure of stunning ethereal beauty. A perfect blend of masculine jawline and feminine softness in the curve of the lips and throat, creating a beauty that was almost overwhelming.
"Do excuse the momentary discomfort adventurer." His voice was smooth, like a distant ringing of a crystal bell. He gestured around the transformed shop with an open, inviting palm. "Now, what is it you truly seek?"
Grey's lips lifted up into a wide grin. He was not shocked with all the transformations, because he knew already what this place was. It was one of the offices of the adventurer guild. A secret guild, not recognized by the United council, the joint central governing body of all the races.
The guild doesn't participate in the war, they are formed of the adventurers, who are vagabonds, roaming and hunting eclipse beasts and seeking treasures for money.
Grey was familiar with this place, because the first character he played as in the game, was Paul Fremen, the head of the adventurer guild. And right now, he needed something that was sought after by every player in the game, but always remained out of their reach, The Lebend map.