by Noah Layton
It didn’t take much fidgeting and tinkering before the lock clicked out of place.
Bingo.
I put away my tools and pulled the door open and headed inside. The place was minimally-decorated but still somehow managed to be a dump, with unwashed plates and dirty clothes scattered about everywhere.
If I was going to make it look like my would-be executioners had bailed, I would need to get rid of it all.
I barred the door and spent the next half-hour trawling through the mess. Aside from the furniture, everything that wasn’t nailed down was crammed into bags. There were a few items of value; a silver necklace stained with blood that got made me wonder what kind of debauchery these dead idiots had been up to before joining the guild, 50 gold coins stashed in a pouch on one of the bedside tables, and a small emerald that had fallen out after them.
I pocketed them, disbarred the door and headed to the window with the three bags of junk, promptly dropping them into the back alley. From there I exited the quarters, carefully lodging the lock back into place, and pulled up my hood as I headed down to the street to begin my journey to the Adler District.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I moved past the merchants returning home, past the guards and the citizens and the rambling drunks as I kept my head down and pushed through the crowds.
I was a man without a home and without a guild; all I had were the clothes on my back and the gold in my pockets.
I was now officially dead.
But when seeking revenge and building something new, anonymity was the best gift of all.
4 – New Digs
The Adler District was a diverse area on the northern side of Spire City. In most sections of the sprawling metropolis, people tended to build communities around their own kind; the centaurs, the goblins, the orcs, the humans, the cat-people and the fox-people, and every other pocket of variety that this world had to offer.
Where I was headed was a little different. Bohemian was the best way to describe it; a sprawling complex of intersecting buildings and merchant shops and taverns, held together collectively by the variety of people that dwelled there.
Most parts of the city possessed some semblance of structure, but not the Adler District. Homes and new structures were built upon each other, with precarious bridges and walkways established wherever the locals deemed necessary.
Most places required building rights from the local governors, but not here. Those in charge had given up long ago in attempting to apply a rigid set of rules to the place. Crime still existed, of course. It had to in a place like this, no different to anywhere else in the city.
But its secretive, complex setup meant that it was the perfect place to hide.
It took more than a few conversations with passing strangers to ascertain exactly where the tavern was, but after a while I ended up on the right track.
Night had fallen when I turned left onto a wide street that bustling with activity. I couldn’t help but smile in response to the hysterical, drunken laughter and the liveliness of the place.
To my left, a series of wooden prefabs with makeshift walls were stacked up to compose a huge, uncertain building from which light and voices echoed out of.
From the first level a curtain was pulled back on one of the tiny makeshift homes, and a goblin hopped down and crossed the street to a night-time liquor merchant whose business was bustling with customers.
Most of the light and life was emanating from a single, large building on the left side of the street. Drinkers stood outside talking and laughing and a warm orange glow swelled within. It was the absolute centre of this hive of questionable morals, but who was I to be judging people on their morals?
After a day of travelling, the aching in my feet felt a lot less painful at the sight of the sign hanging outside of the tavern; a faded illustration of a woman wearing a crown, a mug of ale held high in her hand as she sat atop a bucking horse, with the words The Queen’s Steed scratched beneath it.
I made my way inside the bustling tavern, finding myself on the ground floor of a large bar area filled with customers at tables, others talking at the walls, and many more ordering drinks at the bar.
Mavis the Landlady; that was who I was looking for.
I found her exactly where I expected her to be, behind the bar with one of her employees. They were pulling pints of ale for the span of customers waiting to be served.
She was a tall, buxom woman in her mid-50s; no doubt she had been a real fox back in the day. Her looks had faded a little now, but there was still a beauty to her dark eyes as she laughed with a customer while she pulled a pint of ale.
I approached the bar and caught her attention after a few minutes.
‘What’ll it be?’ She asked.
‘A double whisky,’ I replied.
‘Long day?’
‘You’ve no idea.’
‘Well, this is the place around here to drown your sorrows,’ she laughed, picking up a bottle of the dark stuff at the back and a glass in her other hand before returning to the counter and unscrewing the top. ‘Haven’t seen your face around these parts before.’
‘I’m new in the area. I confess that I’m here on ulterior motives, too.’
‘Oh?’
‘Are you Mavis?’
‘I certainly am. Proprietor of this fine establishment. How would you know my name?’
‘A friend sent me here.’
‘Which friend?’
‘Bungooli. He’s a bard. Might have played here a few ti-?’
‘I know who he is. That gnome unsettles me, and we have more than a few unsettling characters that come through here, believe me.’
‘But you let him play here?’
‘Occasionally.’
‘Well, either way, I’m looking for a room to stay in. He told me that you could set me up with one.’
Mavis placed the glass of whisky on the counter before me. Our eyes met as she glared at me suspiciously.
‘No,’ she said flatly. ‘Sorry. I have rooms available, but I don’t even know you. Armed strangers like yourself don’t just wash up here without a story behind them, and I’m not sure if yours is one that I want to hear.’
‘I have plenty of gold,’ I said. ‘I’d be willing to pay a premium.’
‘I’m not exactly strapped for gold. Take a look around. This place is bustling. Wish I could help you, but trust is more important to me than anything, and I don’t have that within you right now. There are a few other taverns in the district that can help you out.’
I nodded, conceding to her decision, and paid for the whisky before she took off to serve another customer.
I leaned against the bar as I sipped my whisky, feeling the fiery liquid burn my throat as I looked around the tavern.
So much for Bungooli’s connections.
That was the problem with the way that I lived my life; I might have had a pocketful of gold and information, but I didn’t have enough connections, and I had even less now that my guild had betrayed me.
I spent a little while nursing my whisky before ordering a second, then a third; only at the bottom of that one did I start to feel it hit me.
It was a light buzz and nothing more, but if I hadn’t had it, what happened next might not have happened at all.
A pair of men were playing poker at a table nearby. There were four players but it had come down to two remaining, heads-up, with the two who were out each stood behind the remaining men.
Two pairs of buddies, and a palpable tension that hung in the air around them. Other tables weren’t paying them much mind, but with 130 gold pieces in the pot on the table between them, there was a lot at stake.
The river card had already been dealt, and I could see the whole layout from where I was stood. Three of clubs, five of diamonds, five of spades, queen of diamonds, four of hearts.
The final bets had been made, and the guy on the left laid his cards down.
‘Deal with that,’ he scoffed, displaying
a five of clubs and an ace of spades. ‘Three of a kind, bitch.’
The other guy’s blank look stretched into a wide smile as the other three waited in anticipation.
‘Deal with this,’ he replied, placing down the ace of clubs and the two of spades. ‘Straight. Go fuck yourself.’
His friend laughed, the guy supporting his enemy cupped a hand to his mouth to hide his smile, and the winner scooped up the gold coins, dragging them across the table towards him with satisfaction.
The loser was left with nothing but a sour look on his face as he stared at the gold shifting away from him.
‘This is bullshit.’
‘Don’t get pissed off that you lost. That’s how the game is played, dumbass.’
I knew what was going to happen seconds before it broke out. I had seen the pissed-off look on the loser’s face a hundred times before. It was a flammable combination of embarrassment and defeat.
In other words, absolute and total scorn.
His hands slipped beneath the table and shuffled about for too long.
I knocked down the dregs of my drink and set the glass down on the bar, moving forwards at a fast walk until I reached the table.
All of a sudden, the loser produced a dagger from beneath the table and lunged forwards, aiming straight for the winner’s chest.
Neither the winner nor his buddy had time to catch the dagger. They only realised what was happening when it was halfway across the table.
I caught the loser’s forearm in my grasp with the tip of the blade just inches from the winner’s chest. My other slapped down on the loser’s neck, pushed him away from me, and with my other hand I pulled his forearm towards me.
There was resistance, and then a crack.
The dagger clunked to the ground, followed by the loser as I let him go. An almighty scream exploded from his lungs.
‘Motherfucker!’ He spat out, rolling onto his back on the ground as he clutched at his wound desperately. ‘You broke my fucking arm!’
‘And you almost stabbed a guy to death,’ I said casually. ‘What’s your point?’
‘All right!’ A recently familiar voice called from the bar. ‘All of you, get out of here!’
The whole tavern fell silent.
I spun around to see Mavis standing behind the bar. Instead of holding a bottle and a glass, she had the biggest crossbow I had ever seen in my life clenched in her hands, and a bolt loaded at the ready that was big enough to take my head off.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ the friend of the winner said. He shot me a nod as they took off sharply, while the loser’s buddy pulled him to his feet and practically carried him out.
It looked like I was being forced out too, so I gathered myself and set off to the door as the commotion dissipated and the tables all around began talking and drinking again. I hadn’t made it two yards when-
‘Not so fast.’ I stopped and looked over at Mavis, who had lowered her crossbow. ‘You. Come here.’
I headed back to the bar, then followed Mavis into the pantry. Surrounded by cured meats and barrels of ale, she stopped and crossed her arms, eyeing me again.
‘What did you say your name was?’
‘I didn’t. It’s Drake.’
‘Drake, huh? What the hell was that back there?’
‘That was a guy not getting stabbed to death.’
‘But why did you step in?’
‘Because he didn’t seem like he deserved to die.’
‘You frequently decide who lives and who dies?’
I paused, then replied: ‘Sometimes.’
Mavis nodded at me.
‘Like I said, you’ve probably got a story that I don’t want to hear, but you’ve got some moves on you considering you know how to break a man’s arm like a twig.
‘Here’s the deal. I’m going to give you a room. 10 gold coins a night. I want the first week in advance. But I’m going to need you to work security downstairs this weekend. It gets even busier over the next few nights, and that means two things: coin and fighting. Only the latter part applies to you if it comes to that. Those are my terms.’
So I was working security. Not ideal, but I needed somewhere to stay.
‘Deal.’ We shook hands, and I gave her a pouch with 70 gold pieces stashed inside.
Mavis got her assistants to watch the bar while she escorted me upstairs and unlocked a room at the end of a corridor of several rooms.
She swung the door wide and showed me in, handing me the key.
‘I would say that I hope this is all right, but then I know that whoever you are, you probably don’t have too many options right now.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Like I said, I’m not going to pry. Just don’t bring any trouble through my front door. I’ve got enough local idiots to deal with right now without any more coming my way.’
‘You got it.’
She left and closed the door behind her, and I took in the room. A cosy bed, an armchair with a footstool, a closet, a mirror, a desk and a chair, a fireplace and a small bathroom at the back.
It was small, but for the price and the privacy, and in a place like this, it was way more than I expected.
I lit the fireplace and set my belongings down on the desk, then got undressed and looked myself up and down in the mirror.
I stood around six feet one and weighed around 180lbs. Years of hunting and fighting and killing had left me with more than my fair share of scars that were haphazardly scattered over my body, but none like the one that was currently displayed over my abs.
I wore my dark hair in a short back and sides style; while I usually propped up the hair on the top of my head, a day of chaos had left my fringe matted with sweat and sticking to my forehead. My features were full and sharp, below a pair of dark eyes that seemed like pools of black the longer I stared at them in the mirror.
Usually I kept my face clean-shaven, but I would need to change my whole appearance in the coming days as another precaution to stay off the radar.
‘Looks like I’m growing the beard out,’ I muttered to myself, running my hands over the growing stubble on my cheeks. ‘Good thing that that can be done while I’m sleeping.’
Checking that the door was locked and laying my sheathed sword and dagger down by the bed just in case I needed them, I collapsed onto the mattress and drifted to sleep to the faint sound of singing coming from a room somewhere nearby.
5 – Fast Times at The Queen’s Steed
I slept well through the night and into midday. The fire in my room had long burned out, but the warm sun was now flooding in through the window across from the bed.
After putting on my old clothes – they were the only ones I had on hand, but thanks to the busty blonde at the farm they were in a half-decent washed condition – I equipped my weapon’s and headed downstairs.
The bar was empty, save for Mavis who was mopping the floor.
‘Good morning,’ I greeted her, ‘A prosperous night I hope?’
‘Very, but the weekends always are. Folks around here can’t wait to spend their hard-earned coin forgetting about how they actually earned their coin, but it keeps the cupboards full and the lanterns filled with oil.’
‘I’ll bet.’
‘What are you up to this morning? Or should I not ask?’
‘Nothing nefarious. I actually need some new clothes. You know anywhere around here?’
‘There’s a tailors one street over, and a cartographers across the street. You can pick up a map of the district there, although I don’t know how much use it will be considering how fast these parts change. The illustrators can’t keep up.’
I thanked Mavis and left the tavern, pulling up my hood and making my way to the tailors. I spent 30 gold pieces on a new set of pants, an overshirt and a jacket, as well as some new bandages so that I could redress my wound, then picked up a map across the street.
It turned out that Mavis was right. The layout of the Adler District was ev
en more chaotic than I had imagined. Even these professionally composed maps looked like they had been updated at the last minute. Still, it was better than nothing.
Using it I found my way to a small vendor that sold food and other consumables, acquiring enough provisions to keep me going for a couple of days, as well as several thick rolls of bandages.
I followed the directions on the map to the local bounty office, where I kept my hood even more tightly wrapped around my head.
Bounty posts existed in every single district across the city. What government existed in Spire City had realised long ago that there was no way they could pay for a law enforcement service that would police the whole metropolis.
Instead, they came up with a better solution. Keep a huge collection of the names of criminals that were causing too much hassle, make those records easily accessible to the public, and offer a price for the heads of the criminals. The more dangerous they were or the more trouble they caused, the higher the price.
My old guild only ever went after the small-time criminals who sucked at keeping themselves hidden. Our targets had often been idiots who got angry, killed a man in a barfight – almost like the dumbass I had dealt with last night – and made a break for it.
The crime was reported with plenty of witnesses on hand to identify the individual, the bounty set by the head office at the Spire, and the message delivered. It was easy money if you were willing to risk your neck.
New bounties were delivered and updated every day by runners. Runners were essentially the same as messengers; their job was to get through the city as fast as possible to deliver the new bounties to each post in the city, every morning, like clockwork.
I had enough gold stashed away to last me a few weeks, but if I was going to keep myself alive, revenge alone on my old guild wouldn’t cut it. I would need to start hunting down some lowlifes to put some more coin in my pockets.
I pushed through the saloon doors that gave into the bounty post. A spectacle-clad goblin sat behind a desk across the room, while a large troll bodyguard stood nearby, barely moving.
