Chapter 15: Party of Five, Please Don't Die
The next morning arrived on schedule, as mornings tend to do—sun blazing, roosters shouting, and the faint, comforting chaos of Sarimanook yawning itself awake. But while the town came alive, I was already bracing for what came next.
Today was the day Tina—chaotic fox-woman and guildmaster of the Whispering Seagulls—was introducing me to the adventurers brave (or desperate) enough to escort me into the Forest of Amihan.
The shop was closed. I'd insisted Marikit take another day off to rest and spend time with her mom. She grumbled, naturally, but the way her shoulders relaxed told me I made the right call.
And me? I've survived grease fires, discount soap that triggered skin rashes, and the unholy silence of a bank app with zeroes all the way down. But standing outside the scarred Guildhall door again, my nerves buzzed like a nest of wasps hyped up on sugar.
"I'm coming in!" I called—mostly to warn the room, but also to remind myself that I could walk forward and not just pass out on the steps.
Inside, the guild's common room was still dim, dusty, and smelled like spilled ale, sweat, and stories. Tina stood behind the counter, posture perfect, her expression positively glowing. Too glowing. Suspiciously glowing. Like someone who got a five-star review and now thinks they're CEO.
"Right on time, Mister Pepito," she sang. "Let me introduce your escort party!"
She gestured with the dramatic flair of someone who watched way too many kundiman plays. "These are some of our finest remaining assets. And yes," she added, deadpan, "they're all currently sober."
Their party name? Alimpatak. Tina said it meant "a sudden impact" in an old dialect. Sounded poetic. Possibly fatal.
The first one stepped forward. Cocky grin. Confident air. Slightly familiar face.
"You're the guy who bought a lighter from me!" I blurted. "My very first customer!"
He blinked, then laughed. "Oh? You remember me?"
Tak Labra, the armored warrior whose one purchase launched a minor buying frenzy in my shop. I could've kissed him. I didn't. But I could have.
"How could I forget? You started the whole thing!"
"Merchants never forget their first," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the madness, Pepito."
He turned to the others. "Alright, meet the rest of Alimpatak."
First up: Padre Dakila "Daks" Mabini. The Raging Saint. Imagine a priest got possessed by a gym rat and then decided to bless people by body-slamming evil. Burgundy robes stretched over muscles that had no business being that holy.
"Pleased to meet you," he said, voice deep enough to rattle bones.
"Don't be fooled by his calming vibes," Tak murmured. "His sermons come with blunt-force trauma."
Next: Salumina "Mina" Puyat. The Sleepy Sorceress. A hybrid-elf whose robes looked borrowed from a giant's closet. She had the tired elegance of someone who had already saved the world yesterday and was now deeply annoyed at being awake.
"Mina, say hi," Tak nudged.
"...Hello," she mumbled, eyes barely open. A soft lavender scent clung to her, mixed with the faint crackle of arcane energy.
"She's got powerful magic," Tak explained, "but she casts slower than a government office line on a Monday."
Last was Miyara "Yara" Likan. She threw back her hood with style. The Prowling Charmer, a Lycan Ranger. Wolf ears. Golden eyes. An easy, fanged grin that said yes, I've heard the 'do you shed' joke a thousand times and no, I won't laugh.
"You're a Lycan?!" I gasped. Cosplayer brain: overload initiated.
"Yup! Awoo and everything," she chirped, wagging an imaginary tail.
"Lycan eyes... are awesome," I whispered reverently.
Tak gave me a look. "You okay, man?"
"I'm fine. I've just reached a higher plane."
"Some people refuse jobs with Lycans," he added, suddenly serious. "We don't work with people like that."
"They're monsters," I said.
Yara's smile faltered.
"Uncultured, tasteless monsters," I clarified.
Yara brightened. "He gets it!"
"I'm the Ranger," she said proudly. "Daggers, shortbow, tracking, and the occasional tactical retreat."
"She's fast," Daks added with a chuckle. "Sometimes even faster when running away."
Everyone laughed—except Mina, who may or may not have been sleep-chanting.
Tak clapped his hands. "Alright, Alimpatak, let's roll! Motto?"
"In with impact, out with a boom!" they chorused.
"Clean work, dirty jokes, everyone comes home!" Yara added.
"I'm ready...ish," I muttered. My heart was doing jumping jacks, but I smiled anyway.
And just like that, we stepped out into the sun.
Behind us, Tina waved from the door like a proud but mildly sinister matchmaker.
Before me marched:
Tak, the flame-grinned warrior.
Daks, the living cathedral of biceps.
Mina, the arcane genius with a bedtime.
Yara, the lycan ranger of my anime dreams.
...And me.
Pepito Espiritu. Accidental merchant. Coser. Fan of hot drinks and hotter girls with animal ears. Now, somehow, about to walk into monster-infested woods with a team of chaos gremlins.
Please don't let anything bite me, I prayed silently.
The wind smelled like salt and adventure.
I was no longer just a shopkeeper.