First Encounter with the Underworld

Downstairs, spread throughout the room, were eight nasty, rough looking men in leather and chainmail armour. Two were stood by the entrance, three were spread out around the ground floor and three more of them were standing close to the bar, talking ‘politely’ to the staff.

What other patrons were in the tavern had left once those men entered.

Mímir and Mania confidently walked downstairs as the men turned to look at them, a few of them eyeing up and grinning at Mania. Mania felt her skin crawl from their gazes.

I really want to kill them!

Sensing her rising bloodlust, Mímir tapped her back, warning her not to, then walked right up to the men sat at the bar.

“Is there something I can do for you gentlemen?” He calmly asked.

A gruff looking grey-haired man who seemed to be their leader grunted and said, “More like there’s something we can do for you, sir.”

“For me?”

“Care for a drink? I’ll buy it.”

Mímir shook his head and put on his best fake smile he could. “I don’t drink while I’m working and I’m afraid that we’ve recently increased our prices threefold for drinks. I hope you have the money on you to pay for that.”

While the grey-haired man laughed, one of his men tightened his grip on the dagger by his side.

“What’s another few Rhams, eh?” The grey-haired man mused. “I’m Ryan, by the way.” He offered Mímir his hand but it wasn’t taken, so Ryan withdrew his offer. “It’s customary to introduce yourself when someone gives you their name in these parts, Curtis Forest.”

Mímir feigned surprise. They had, obviously, discovered who it was that had bought the Hierophant beforehand and had uncovered the fake story that Mímir had started circulating among the streets of Stonefall since they bought the place.

Curtis Forest was a retired adventurer who lived in the northern countries all his life and had settled down after meeting the love of his life, Olivia Vander. With his considerable wealth, they had bought the Hierophant and were already attracting attention from their competition.

“From where I’m from, it’s rather rude to dig into someone’s personal life before meeting with them. I take it you fine gentlemen are mercenaries.”

Ryan chuckled. “Of a sort, you could say. More like, protectors than anything, sir.”

“Protectors?”

“Oh yes. Stonefall might seem like a pretty little place, but, here in the merchant’s district, it’s always a battlefield fought in the shadows. One day, you’ll be on top of the world, raking in massive profits the likes of which most folk wouldn’t see in their lifetime and then bam!” Ryan slammed his fist against bar to emphasise his point. “Someone’s paid someone to come and take you down.”

Mímir remained perfectly calm during Ryan’s explanation. The staff that they had brought from the castle, however, were spooked, amusing Ryan’s men.

“I take it that fine men like yourselves exist to stop such things from happening, correct?”

“Indeed we do. My employers are actually the main supplier of protective mercenaries in Stonefall and anyone who’s anyone is kept safe by us, I assure you.”

“I find that hard to believe when you won’t give us your name,” Mania spat.

Mímir glared at her; he knew that she was fed up of listening to this farce, but they had to pretend to be regular people, not the Demon Emperor’s chosen generals.

In reality, if Mímir or Mania wanted to, they could cut Ryan and his men into ribbons but, as per their orders, they couldn’t afford to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves and that meant not attracting suspicion upon their operation.

Mania, I know how you feel, but please do not ruin this.

Ryan, clearly bemused by Mania, grinned at her and whistled. “Shouldn’t a pretty thing like you know not to be so stupid?” His men chuckled beside him. “You wouldn’t want something bad to happen to your beloved or your home, would you?”

Like you vermin could do anything to us!

Externally however, she just sighed and folded her arms.

“I believe my wife asked you to identify yourselves, Ryan.”

Mania quietly feigned throwing up in her mouth.

“We, good man, are the Sons of Tartarus,” Ryan boisterously declared. “We are the prime defenders of good, honest folk like yourself from all the nasty people in the world. We exist in the shadows to protect you from those in the shadows, if you get my drift?”

“…I do.”

“All we ask of you, Curtis, is a small fee every week to ensure that you’re kept from the many dangers of Stonefall. I mean, for all you know, the militia or legion might come over here one day, get drunk, trash the place and refuse to pay for the damages. What would you do when that happened? I’ll tell you what; we’d cover the costs for you out of the fee you’d paid us.” Ryan grinned again. “It’s a good deal, no?”

Mímir thinly smiled at him. “And how many Rhams would that be a week I wonder for such kind services?”

“Nothing much, just two thousand Rhams and you get to go to sleep happily every night. Otherwise.” He leant forward and whispered, “Something bad might happen to your missis. I’d hate to see such a beautiful woman reduced to something even her lover couldn’t bear to look at.”

“Try it, worm.”

Mímir could clearly see a vein in Ryan’s forehead pulse at Mania's remark. He bit his lip, chuckled and slowly turned to face Mania.

“The fuck you say to me?”

Mania smiled, unfolded her arms and stepped closer to Ryan. “Try it. Worm. Are you both deaf and stupid?”

Everything went silent.

Everyone watched anxiously to see what Ryan or Mania would do next.

It was unthinkable that someone would stand up to the Sons of Tartarus, but the servants from the castle were more terrified of Mania’s anger than the thugs threatening them.

Then, in an explosive second, Ryan drew his sword and swiped at Mania.

Before he could even get the full blade out of its sheath, Mímir leapt over the counter, grabbed Ryan’s arm, broke his wrist, and twisted the thug’s arm behind his back.

Ryan roared in agony as his sword cluttered to the floor and Mímir pinned him to the counter.

The two men beside Ryan drew their weapons but Mímir pulled a knife from his belt and held it to Ryan’s neck.

“One wrong move and he’s dead.”

The Sons of Tartarus hesitated.

In their arrogance, they had spread themselves out so thinly around the room that they were far away from the staff and Mania, meaning that there was no one they could quickly grab and hold as a hostage without the risk of Ryan’s throat being cut.

Ryan grunted and struggled against Mímir’s iron-like grip, but Mímir dug the blade into Ryan’s neck, drawing blood.

“Alright, alright! We won’t do anything like that again, okay?”

“Did you really think I’d be dumb enough to believe you?” Mímir mumbled, digging the blade a little bit deeper.

“I swear it on my life! On my honour!”

“Honour? Rich coming from scum like you.”

One of the men started to run at Mania, but he stopped when Mímir threatened to slice Ryan’s throat open.

“Try it. I am a former A-ranked adventurer of the highest honours from a place far greater than the gutters you’ve come from. If I see any of you or your men ever come close to my home again, I will kill them. Do you understand?”

Ryan nodded his head just a little bit so he didn’t make his wound any worse.

“Get it down in writing. You.” Mímir gestured at one of the men near the counter. “You have paper on you, don’t you?” The man nodded. “Take it out and cross out whatever contract you had written and write what I just said down. You have ten seconds.”

The man quickly did as instructed and then showed Mímir the paper as evidence. Mímir then made Ryan sign it before finally releasing him. He then snatched up the paper before Ryan could get it and pocketed it.

“Now then, I shall be reporting this to the appropriate authorities later today and you know what happens if you were to break a legally binding contract, correct?”

Ryan spat at Mímir, dirtying his white shirt and then beckoned his men out. Ryan was the last one out and he left after a few parting words.

“This isn’t over.”

Once the door was closed, one of the staff members locked it and hurriedly backed away, fearing that the thugs might still be nearby.

“This isn’t good.” Mímir dismissed his illusion and sighed. “You.” He pointed at a random servant. “Take one of the Ravens and to the nearest guard post and ask who to give this document to, then get it submitted at the city’s records if possible.”

“A-at once, my lord. B-but what do we do when they return?”

“We shall have to simply find new ways of scaring them off. Perhaps it might be worth seeing if we could disguise the Machai as human soldiers to act as our guards. If push comes to shove, Mania or I would be more than enough but that’s the worst-case scenario.”

“My lord, where is Lady Mania?”

Fearfully, Mímir looked around and searched for Mania, but found no signs of her.

Oh no.