Chapter 2: The Foundation
From the outside, the Foundation looks like a messianic ark sticking out of the drab backset of log-stripped mountains far south of the Pronteran capital. Its two towers overlook the Sograt desert not too far away. The white-grit finish of its walls gives it a sense of cleanliness amidst the clear signs of war all over the land. The untouched look of everything helps in lifting the moral heaviness of its function to civilised society in only superficially.
The Chimaeran Extermination Foundation - the Foundation, as everybody has come to call it - is a post-war organisation dedicated in acting as a broker of mercenarial jobs all over Midgard. It employs an unknown number of bounty hunters under its wing and rumor has it that it was established by none other than the peace-keeping committee.
"Ah, I just love this place," Adrian took one deep breath as he climbed the final step leading to the marble front of the megalithic structure, "this place, it reminds me of money."
"It's just like any other market. It reeks with the stench of butchery and it's infested with fleas," nonchalantly followed up a cranky Primera who followed the Assassin slowly.
Adrian turned at Primera and gave her the sure-find-whatever look, probably in tacit insistence that it's their livelihood nonetheless.
The inside of the structure was just as organised. A person who knew nothing about the Foudation would mistake its innards for a bank, waiting seats, counters and all that jazz.
"You wait here, and try not to pick fights with the other guys this time, will ya?" said Primera as she repositioned her oversized crossbow slung on her back. She proceeded to one of the counters as Adrian gave a thumbs up from a seat near the exit of the place.
"Hi! Welcome to the South Pronteran Branch of the Foundation. How may I help you?"
The uniformed clerk who appeared to be a young lady in her early teens looked bippity cheery when Primera stepped up the counter. She tried to force a smile and handed over a passcard and an odd engraved artifact no larger than a coin.
"Designation 10008048 and 10008049 reporting an accomplished mission. This is the core chip of target. Please verify."
The clerk looked at the huntress and slipped the chip into a transparent vial. She took the card and read the credentials.
"Primera Griffenrove and Adrian Cathersade, 118th unit of the Pronteran Sector entry confirmed. Current assignment of B.O.T.S. extermination has been acknowledged by the OVERSEER committee three hours ago," said the clerk as she ran through data flashing in a Geffenite glass screen in front of her.
The huntress turned to see what her partner was doing. He was chatting with what appeared to be two other female hunters. Hopefully, nothing too troublesome, she said to herself.
The blue-haired clerk handed over a pouch that jangled as she extended her arm. "Congratulations. Agreed payment is fifty thousand zennies, thank you for working with the Foundation. We look forward to working with you on another assignment."
"Likewise," Primera opened the pouch on reception, counted fifteen green gems, closed the pouch and then walked away without so much as a thank you. There would be plenty of time for that later.
"Yeah, I heard Comodo is really nice at this time of the year. I just might be able to convince my scrooge-of-a-partner to come with me there sometime," Adrian went on with his mindless talking. The two girls, an acolyte and an apprentice mage listened in.
Primera overheard and feigned a cough to interrupt. "We got the payment. We should check up on Father Ayn regarding our last assignment."
Adrian took note and went on with finishing his talk, "Well, gotta go ladies. Thanks for the chat."
As the assassin and the huntress started walking away, the two girls who were talking to Adrian looked at each other.
"What was THAT all about?" asked the acolyte.
"I dunno. He just started blabbing away without even asking if we're interested. His lonely job class is probably getting to him. Assassins, heh," replied the mage as the stared at the 'sin walking away with Primera.
Meanwhile, the Adrian and Primera headed up to one of the infirmary-looking offices on the second floor.
"So?"
Primera turned at Adrian,"So, what?"
"How did I do? I didn't fight with nobody this time around. I'm mister friendly now, aren't I?" Adrian sported an ear-to-ear smile.
"They looked too enthusiastic. You should have noticed that they were trying to hint you with blunt sarcasm. Having a personality of a week-old poring carcass isn't your fault. Acolytes and mages, heh!"
"That's why you can never get a boyfriend, Prim. You never fail hit your targets, even when insulting other people," replied a just as indifferent Adrian with arms braced at the back of his neck, "My pickup conversation was well worth the try though."
They stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a room with a displayed "Fr. Ayn Kitchener" label at the side of the door.
"If you listen to yourself every now and then, you should know by now why Assassins aren't supposed talk."
End of Chapter
