Collecting Dues

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As I proceeded north from the southernmost Market District, where a majority of Redrook’s commerce took place, I passed by a bit of a commotion on the way. Something had the Royal Garrison in a tizzy as one unit after another scrambled from their posts outside the market stalls in the direction of the Residential District in the east.

While I was no friend of the so-called “peacekeepers” of the city, I couldn’t help but be curious what sort of incident would demand so many men turn a blind eye to the usual pickpockets and riff raff. I figured it could possibly have had something to do with the royal family who made their home in the city-state of Redrook.

Or what’s left of them, hear it told.

After a string of assassinations, nearly all of Redrook’s princes had been slain—along with the queen—leaving only the youngest Prince Nou to inherit the kingdom. His father, King Dante had long-since disappeared before I arrived and was assumed dead. The deaths of his mother and older brothers were relatively recent, and with his sister having already been married off to a neighboring city-state, he was the lone heir to the Kingdom of Zen.

Being only around ten years old, however, Prince Nou didn’t actually run things around here. That would be madness. Operations were typically handled in coordination by the Magic Institute’s Council of Five, the Royal Garrison, and Redrook’s famed Adventurer's Guild, although…

I guess life is tough for the rich and powerful too, huh? I sure don’t envy that kid.

But if the guard movements were in response to a situation with a V.I.P. like the Prince, it was odd that they would be mobilizing away from the Palace District in the west. Perhaps something else was afoot, after all?

Lingering on that thought for the duration of my walk, I had reached the Adventurer’s Guild within Redrook’s Central District before I knew it, and the imposing double doors did little to muffle the boisterous sounds coming from within. No doubt, I could already picture the gruff looking regulars sitting at the tables in their usual groups.

And I received their usual curious stares as I entered with my hands folded behind my head, many of them curious about what trouble I had managed to get myself into today for a bit of coin. Old Red’s Inn, the place was called. With a large tavern on the bottom floor, followed by a few dozen rooms right up the stairs to sleep off the booze, and finally the Adventurer’s Guild HQ on the top floor.

“Hah! Is that Khorag’s dagger I spy on your hip, son?” An old drunk sitting at a table with gray spiky hair and Windsor eyeglasses pointed out the weapon I had tucked between my leather belt. “‘Bout time someone taught those unruly orcs a lesson. Why, I’d have done it myself, but… y’know, my joints is acting up.”

“Your joints, huh?” I scoffed. “I believe that just as much as the last excuse that came out of you, Jett, you lazy bastard.”

“’Least my information is good, you could share a bit of your cut as a way of thanks… It’d be the decent thing, Ren…”

“Piss off, older timer.” I brushed off Jett’s request for a handout. “Your so-called “information“ was out of date, and I ended up getting chased halfway across the city and beaten for it.”

I had intended on just nabbing just the dagger while the group of orcs were recovering from a night of heavy drinking—and selling it at face-value—but they were sober and rearing for a fight, conflicting with Jett’s drunken account that he fed me earlier.

“An honest mistake, I assure ya! This old man’s mind ain’t what it used to be heheheh…” His chuckle devolved into a fit of coughing.

Shaking my head at the geezer’s nerve, I approached the bar counter. Locking gazes with the barmaid, I slapped a few of Khorag’s rusty coins down on the countertop as I sat down.

“Could I get something cheap to wet my whistle, please? Non-alcoholic, though.” I asked before groaning to myself. “And something for the old man… I guess.”

“You’re a saint, kid!”

“Whatever.”

Had I thought Jett set me up, I might have gone as far as beating the shoes off of him for it, but he was doing what he could to help in his drunken stupor. Even I could see that, and it was my fault in the end for not double-checking the info…

“Coming right up!” The woman answered before reaching under the counter for one of the kegs containing something other than ale, the drink of choice for most adventurers in the joint.

Don’t get me wrong, I had few qualms with underaged drinking considering the laws in this land were different, and I was certainly no strict prohibitionist despite my no-good father being quite the drunk. I simply couldn’t shake the feeling that letting my guard down even once could spell my end, and I could never quite unwind as a result.

There are worse things than a bit of paranoia though, like dying, to name just one. Maybe I’ll try a glass when I’m twenty next year… if I make it that long.

After just a moment, the barmaid—a cute blonde with an ample chest—placed a large mug of fruit juice in front of me with a smile. Strangely enough, she also pushed the coins back in my direction.

“Huh? Are these no good, or something?”

I wouldn’t have been surprised if Khorag used some sort of counterfeit tender, the slimy derelict that he was.

“No, that’s not it. It’s just…” She cleared her throat. “Those orcs always come through here and harass us barmaids and forget to pay their tabs after a long night of drinking. It’s toughest on nights when the guild’s best are out on assignment, so please think of this as our way of thanks for standing up to them on your own!”

“Well… don’t mind if I do then.” I sheepishly agreed.

It would be a waste not to accept a rare bit of kindness and gratitude thrown my way. And I mean rare where this town was concerned. I tipped the mug back and felt the flavorful concoction wash over my tongue.

“This is delicious!” I exclaimed, appreciating the best beverage I had tasted in some time.

It sure beat boiled water, at any rate. Equal parts sweet and tangy, it was a refreshing mixture of the local selection, akin to a fresh apple cider.

“Our newest shipment from Opal Bay. Please enjoy.” Looking satisfied with my honest review, the barmaid bowed respectfully before wandering off to another table to help the next customer with their order.

I briefly considered using the coins I had swiped to buy some food to pair with my free drink, but other business had brought me to Old Red’s Inn, and my meal could wait until after that was taken care of upstairs. But just as I prepared to take another drink…

“…”

I felt a blunt force crash into my shoulder, pushing me into the mug in front of me, and spilling the amber liquid all over the bar counter and onto my pants.

“Hey, watch what the hell you’re doing!” I spun around in a hurry to catch whoever had shoulder-checked me, but the rather unapologetic figure cloaked in black simply continued towards the exit. I could swear I saw them glance back and smirk at me from behind their hood, but I couldn’t see much else of their features.

Why, you little piece of—!

I nearly stood up, but any desire of mine to fight was quickly extinguished by the look of dismay on the barmaid's face as her eyes followed the cloaked man out the door. Not to mention all the gazes that had drifted my way after I called out. It wouldn’t do to start a brawl in one of the few places I was welcome, after all.

And perhaps the other guy was just having a bad day? Exhaling deeply to calm myself down, I began to towel my pants and the counter off with a nearby cloth napkin.

“So sorry, sir, please let me get you a refill!”

“Nah, it’s alright.” I waved off the barmaid, as I finally stood to my feet. “I’m late for a meeting, so maybe later.”

“Ah, okay…”

Smelling faintly of fruit, I ascended the stairs and made my way towards the third floor where a particular man was waiting for my arrival at the Adventurer's Guild hall.