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The tavern was more crowded than usual as Nox sat by himself, slowly working his way through a simple meal of bread and cheese. It wasn’t much, but with his reserves quickly running out, it was all he could afford. He’d pressed himself into the back corner, keeping as far away from the other patrons as possible. Scroungers weren’t always the most welcome of people inside the city proper, something he’d learned the hard way more than once. He shifted his bandana nervously, making sure it was still covering his ears and keeping his eyes cast downward. Thankfully the bustle kept the attention of the customers elsewhere and he was able to settle back and listen to the din as he continued to eat, hoping for a bit of information that would solve his problems.
“I heard the king is havin’ a right bit o’ trouble with them orcs up north,” a dwarven man slobbered, ale running down his chin and beard as he waved the tankard dangerously. “Them’s nasty business, mark my words! They’ll kill ya as soon as look at ya! Why I heard they been killin’ children and roastin’ them just for sport!”
“My brother’s part of the knights and he told me the orc chief tried to kill one of the Primes when they went up to the Tenebrae Woods for peace talks,” the young human man next to him responded, holding his drink close.
“Kill one o’ the Primes?!” the dwarven man scoffed. “Impossible! They’s the business! Nobody can harm them!”
The man lowered his voice. “Apparently he said the orc chief had an enchanted ax...”
“That’s the mos’ ridiculous thing you’ve said yet, boy!” The dwarven man laughed, slopping his drink over the bar and floor. “A great buffoon of an orc wit’ a magic weapon?” Several of the customers turned to look as the word left his lips. “”What kind o’ fairy tale is this? Next I suppose you’ll tell me he made it himself?”
“Are you calling my brother a lair?” the man asked, the sudden anger clear in his voice.
“I ain’t sayin’ no such thing,” the drunk man replied, holding his hands up. “Jus’ that it’s very unlikely he got the truth from someone else. Ya know how those soldiers like to tell tall tales! Why, one of them would see a sheep in a field and by the next day the whole camp will be talkin’ about how they fought a dragon!”
The dwarf jerked his drink backward with a grand gesture to show just how big those tales were, sloshing it over three of the other customers who cried out in surprise. Immediately they jumped up from their seats, turning to face the drunkard, their voices raised. Nox watched as in a matter of seconds the dwarf was lifted from his seat, carried across the room, and tossed clean out the front entrance of the tavern into the cobblestone streets. The younger human man stood up, puffing his chest out at the other customers as if ready to fight. In a flash the barkeep came around, ushering people back to their seats and trying to keep a full on brawl from breaking out. He refilled tankards with a clay pitcher, assuaging them with the power of the bitter drink that did nothing but dull their senses. Nox took a sip of his own as he watched, hoping it would do the same for him.
Catching the barkeep's eye, Nox gestured him over for a refill. He slid a coin toward the man, keeping quiet as his tankard was topped off.
“Are there any bounties posted?” Nox asked quietly.
The barkeep took the coin, pulling the pitcher back. “No,” he replied simply with a tone of irritation.
Without another word he disappeared back into the crowd. Keeping his head down, Nox continued to listen in to those around him. He’d hoped for at least some hint of work, but it seemed like Kald was running dry, just like the scrounging spots nearby.
“It’s been too dry this summer... I don’t know if the corn is going to make it,” an older human man murmured. “It’s already past midsummer and it’s nowhere near knee height yet.”
Yet more bad news for the denizens of Kald.
“That fuckin’ bitch tried to sell me a twelve year old horse, claiming it was only six,” a portly man in his middle years scoffed a few tables over. “Can you believe that? What is this world coming to when you can’t even trust your neighbors?”
Nox shifted his attention away from the farmers. He didn’t care about horses or corn. Neither of them would keep him fed or make his mother well.
“All the nearby ruins seem to be picked clean. We can’t find the tiniest bit of scrap in any of our old places.”
Nox zeroed in on the young dwarven man sitting at a nearby table. His companions leaned in close. A human woman with one side of her head shaved and long black hair spilling over her other shoulder cocked her head to the side, listening to him speak. The other, a thin elven man with richly tanned skin and braided blond hair cradled his tankard, looking at the other two with a bemused look. Nox was surprised to see an elf out in the open without any attempt to hide his features. The man must have been very brave or extremely foolish to not hide his race. Usually they were the first taken by the Holy Knights or the first executed for suspicions of arcane dabbling. Everyone knew elves were naturally gifted in magic.
“Then we go to the forbidden ruins,” the blond man replied casually.
“We can’t do that!”
“That’s a suicide mission,” the woman said in a nuetral tone. “That place is connected to the Hollow. Anything could be in there. Not to mention whatever beasts are stalking the mountain forest. We’ll be dead before we find the entrance.”
“Are you two able to get jobs? Start a farm? Do you have coin for that?” the elven man asked. He waited patiently for a moment, giving them a chance to respond. They did not. “Then I suggest we find a new place to scrounge. The forbidden ruins are the closest and guaranteed to hold some sort of bounty. We probably won’t have to go much further than the front door to make a payday. If you want to try for a normal life after that, be my guest, but Kald isn’t exactly clamoring for laborers these days.”
“It’s risky,” the dwarf exhaled.
“So is breathing, but you still do it. Besides, we can risk our lives there or starve to death here. Pick your poison.”
“What do we do about the monsters?” the woman asked, her gaze fixed on the elf. “None of us are great fighters. If we run into something down there we’ll be dead for sure.”
Nox felt his chest tighten. He was a practiced fighter with his spear and confident in his abilities. Delving into the forbidden ruins alone would be the end of him, but maybe, if he could make himself look useful, he could convince them to bring him along. He stuffed the last bit of bread in his mouth and drained his tankard. Pushing the seat back he headed for the nearby table. Just as he did, a flash of bright red caught his attention and he glanced up.
A hush fell over the room as a tall man in polished armor stepped through the front door of the tavern, a blood red cloak trailing behind him. He was flanked by two guardsmen, not as finely armored or dressed, but still armed nonetheless. Nox sank back down into his seat slowly, keeping his head down. With his eyes fixed on the man he was scarcely able to draw a breath.
It was Captain Ragvir, a ranking member of the Holy Knights and leader of the local guard. He stood tall and proud, an unfeeling smirk permanently affixed to his face and his beady judging eyes glancing over the tavern. His jaw was hard-lined and his hair was shorn close to his head. The polished ornate armor framed his face and shoulders, creating an imposing figure that struck fear into the hearts of all in Kald. It was enough fine steel to feed Nox and his mother for more than a year. The captain was responsible for enforcing, judging, and punishing all those who found themselves on the wrong side of the law. Nox knew from personal experience that Captain Ragvir took great pleasure in carrying out executions himself, whether his victim was guilty or not. He was more than happy to make an example of anyone who thought otherwise.
“As you were,” the Captain barked to the room.
The noise returned to the tavern, but at a much lower level than before. The captain’s eyes scanned over the crowd, not taking notice of Nox and settling on the barkeep at last. His armor clanged together as he walked across the ale soaked floor. Using the distraction to his advantage, Nox slipped out of his seat and as nonchalantly as possible, made his way out of the tavern while keeping to the far wall. He passed by the group of scroungers, all looking at the guards with wary eyes, but still clutching their tankards.
Outside the tavern Nox found himself able to breathe once more in the open air. His head was reeling as flashes of pain and anger broke through his racing thoughts. Being near the captain brought back many painful memories, ones he never wanted to revisit again. He could feel the deep pulse of anger in his chest, his grip tightening on his spear, the fury threatening to consume him. Taking a few deep breaths, he let it pass like he always did. So many people from the slums, some of which Nox had once been friends with, had been tortured to death in the town square for all to see. Most of them had been brought in for simple acts of thievery to stay alive, but by the time the captain was done with them, they’d confessed to being dabblers in the arcane just to finally feel the merciful release of death. Watching Abi’s younger brother being murdered had been the worst of all. He’d been only ten years old, but that didn’t stop the captain from chopping off his fingers one by one until the boy passed out. The captain being on that side of town could only mean one thing, he was running short on victims.
Nox shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked across the street. There he found a shadowy corner of a building to take refuge in so as not to be noticed. Leaning against the closed shop in the dark he waited for the other scroungers to leave the tavern. Nobody seemed to realize he was there, which was to his liking. Patrolling guards passed by, hardly looking at anything as usual. The guards rarely intervened with anything unless they saw a chance to prosper. Most of them would be starving on the streets if not for their connections that got them into the city guard in the first place. Nobody in the slums ever made it to a position like that, it was reserved for the moderately wealthy only. After all, from what Nox could see, those in power tended to keep it one way or another.
Nox didn’t have to wait long. The entire tavern started to clear out, like it usually did when the captain showed his face anywhere. After about ten minutes the trio he’d been eavesdropping on exited and turned immediately left, heading toward the slums on the western side of town where all the scroungers and the other impoverished people lived. Still keeping to the shadows, Nox followed them, knowing they might be his only chance to fill his pockets once more.
The buildings slowly began to shift as he crept along, keeping a healthy distance between himself and the small group. What had been well built homes and businesses slowly became a bustling shanty town of haphazardly constructed abodes leaning against one another at odd angles. The streets thinned and buildings bent inward, blocking out the sky. Canopies and clothing lines stretched between the homes giving the entire city a closed off feeling, almost like being inside. Torches burned in rusted and crumbling brackets blackening the sides of the houses with soot. Only a few small businesses had lanterns out front. Those were always snuffed and brought inside for the night so that they didn’t go missing. The streets were dirty and pockmarked with puddles of piss and refuse, giving the air a harsh acrid smell that kept most from the eastern side of Kald away.
Nox felt the tension in his shoulders ease as he continued, feeling more at ease among the ramshackle and garbage than he did at the tavern. The slums of Kald had been his home for many years and although the streets could be dangerous, it was where he felt the most at peace. Soldiers and guards hardly ever visited that part of the city and Nox had carved out his own little space among the rest of the forgotten. It was the only place he felt like he really belonged. It was home.
Ahead the trio turned into an alley suddenly, rousing him from his thoughts. Putting on a burst of speed so as not to lose them, he rounded the corner. Before his eyes could adjust to the dim light he felt a blade pressed up against his throat and stopped dead in his tracks. The human woman held her sword aloft, the tip of it resting against his larynx, her black hair spilling across her face. The other two stood close by, both with their weapons drawn.
"Why are you following us?" she asked in a flat tone. "You have ten seconds to explain before I spill your blood across the street and leave your body for the rats to feast on like the garbage you are."
"Poetic," Nox replied, letting a grin pull at his lips. He knew he couldn't show any fear if he wanted to be taken seriously in the slums. "I heard your loud friend here say that you were considering going to the forbidden ruins," he said, gesturing to the elven man. "Sounded like you could use some extra muscle."
"And you think you qualify for that?" the dwarf scoffed. "You look pretty stringy to me."
"That I am." Nox ducked away from the blade in a flash and thrust his spear forward, nicking the edge of the dwarf's ear, a drop of blood welling up on the metal. "But I'm fast and I can fight."
The dwarf's eyes grew big as he stared down the shaft of the spear. Cold steel pressed against Nox’s neck from both sides, but the others didn’t dare cut him. Slowly a smile crept across the dwarf’s face, his eyes sparkling in the torchlight.
"I'd say you make a good argument!" The dwarf nodded to his companions and their blades fell away. "You're right. We could use someone like you on this little adventure of ours. What do you think, Lana?"
"I think he's a fool," she droned, slipping her sword back into the sheath at her side, clearly bored that the situation hadn’t ended in bloodshed. "But a useful fool is better than an ordinary fool, which is all we’d find in this place anyway.”
Nox pulled the spear away, tapping it to the ground beside him with a cocky grin.
"And you, Voran?"
"Hmm," the elf hummed, looking Nox over. "It's risky, but then again, so is our line of work. With numbers and skill on our side, the chances of survival improve greatly. It's not like we have much choice otherwise. We need the coin." He paused. “Besides, I’m tired of this town. The faster we have some cash, the faster we can leave.”
"I'll assume that's a yes." The dwarf held out a meaty hand. "My name is Jager and I'll be honest with you, I think this is a damn idiotic plan, but you're welcome to join us if you like. We’ll split everything evenly. Everyone gets their equal share."
"Good to meet you," he replied, taking his hand. He looked at the other two, nodding to each in turn. "I like those terms and the odds. Besides, like you said, we scroungers don't have much of a choice anymore." He glanced around, seeing the nods of agreement. "So? When are we leaving?"