Chapter 26

The exterior of the guild had been medieval, appropriately stereotypical of tanks and impressive at once, but inside ... inside was, well, mundane.

Typically modern—the same as the rest of campus. Natalie had somehow expected the stoic design to have carried on to the interior. Though, she supposed, that would’ve been inconvenient. This was a functional building, however much the showmanship of the Union Plaza and five guildhalls suggested otherwise.

A banner streamed from one wall to the other, reading, ‘WELCOME FRESHMEN!’.

Too mundane. Natalie had gotten her expectations up, seeing the guild’s outward presentation.

Natalie had barely trailed into the lobby before somebody appeared next to her, slinging their arm onto her shoulder. She didn’t tense, though maybe someone like Jordan would have—Natalie didn’t have much problems with people being touchy, though she wouldn’t say she liked it.

“Good to see you, frosh,” the boy—probably a member of the guild, a recruiter of some sort—said. “You’ve made the right choice, joining the tank’s guild.”

Natalie eyed the arm draped on her shoulder, then raised an eyebrow at him. He had a sideways grin plastered on his face, and shaggy blond hair. Blunt features—handsome, rugged, straightforwardly masculine. He had wide shoulders and a powerful build, even compared to most Tenet students ... one which did little to nothing for her, considering her terminal case of gayness, but which explained his easy confidence. Natalie could tell a boy who wasn’t used to rejection.

At Natalie’s raised eyebrow, he didn’t remove his arm, only grinned wider. So she removed it for him, shaking it off. He didn’t take offense, so that was some sort of credit to him.

“I made the right choice?” she repeated. “That’s hopeful. I’m just looking around.”

“Nah, I can tell a tank when I see one. You’re more refined than those rabid dogs we call neighbors.”

The fighter’s guild was to the left of tank’s guild—their ‘neighbor’.

Natalie found herself giving the boy an amused look. More refined? Her?

“Well, you’ve got a horrible read on people,” she said. “I’m more fighter than tank. Just, my class means I might be better suited here.”

The boy hummed. “Well, then the tank’s guild could always use a new perspective,” he said, pivoting easily. “Some fire in its ranks. So, I’m glad you’re leaning toward us. You won’t regret it.”

Natalie found herself entertained at how easily he had adjusted his opinion: from ‘rabid dogs’ to ‘some fire could be a good thing’. His twinkling eyes told Natalie he knew exactly what he was doing. Not a person afraid of saying whatever he needed in order to sway someone. Shameless about it, too.

“Why would you even care?” She knew the guilds did their best to recruit, but for what reason? “You get something for having more members?”

“More funding, to name one.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Which means bigger parties. But more than that...” he looked her up and down, slowly, then flashed another smile. “Well, the more the merrier, right?”