A former A-rank mage who took the job after a curse rendered him unable to cast spells above F-rank. He runs the Thornwood Guild’s desk with terrifying efficiency. He also maintains a secret list of adventurers who failed to say “please.” They only ever get escort quests. To swamps.
The receptionist learns to perform a delicate dance: encouraging enough to keep them alive, but realistic enough to prevent them from challenging a basilisk while armed with a butter knife. receptionist at the bottom tier guild
The reception desk is a massive oak relic from an era when this guild actually mattered. It’s now covered in sticky rings from tankards, claw marks from a failed petrification reversal, and a permanent coffee stain shaped like the continent of Eldoria. A former A-rank mage who took the job
Works at the Mudgate Guild. They have a tattoo of a coffee mug on their forearm. They have developed the ability to file paperwork while asleep. When asked why they stay, they shrug and say: “Someone has to make sure the idiots don’t kill themselves before lunch. Besides, the dental plan is… actually, there is no dental plan. But the stories. Gods, the stories.” The Philosophy of the Bottom-Tier Desk What does it mean to be the receptionist at the worst guild in the kingdom? It means understanding that heroism isn’t always a sword. Sometimes, heroism is a functioning inkwell. It’s a warm chair. It’s remembering that the anxious young rogue who just lost her first party needs to hear “Try again tomorrow” instead of “You’re not cut out for this.” To swamps