4895 words (19 minute read)

Chapter 4

4

“Strawman, wait up,” Zeveth pleaded as he trailed along behind me, leaving the wagon behind. I made no conscious effort to outpace him, but I was far ahead of him as I stomped around the building back towards the bustling front entrance. A cool burst of night air battered my face as I turned the corner, but my frustration made it barely register.

“Strawman,” he insisted.

I whipped back around, saying nothing as I glared him down. In shock, he slowly raised both hands.

“Whoa man,” he murmured. “I don’t know why you’re mad at me…”

I glanced over my shoulder, mostly out of habit, then slowly walked back towards him. “Well excuse me for being just a little bit pissed off that Coffin’s Nails are a bit of bad news away from burning down my place in the middle of the night, Zeveth!”

“Coffin’s Nails won’t do shit!” he scoffed. “What’s he going to do, tell them that he hired us on a contract to kill one of them?”

Suddenly, a loud thump on the ground and rush of movement near us caused us to whip around in shock. Thankfully, I stopped myself before throwing a punch; Dina had hopped off the edge of the roof, smoothly landing on her feet beside us.

“Should’ve shot the fat bastard,” she murmured to herself as she slung the bow over her shoulder. “You really think he’s going to keep his mouth shut after we botched the mission?” She waited for a response, glancing between our shocked faces in confusion. “…What?”

Zeveth’s spiral markings faded from green to black, no doubt checking for other attackers out of reflex. “Warnings are nice, y’know.”

I blinked twice, then shook my head in frustration. “Killing him would’ve just brought on more trouble. Gods know he probably answers to someone else in Baroke.”

“And he’s got no prove of anything no matter who he tells,” Zeveth added. “That’s exactly why we do things the way we do!” As we approached the porch, he lowered his voice considerably, despite the fact there was no longer a guest to be seen. “No physical contracts, no paper trail, no proof.”

“But you know that’s not going to stop him from spreading the word around,” I sighed hopelessly. “That’s how Minnows Bydown is.”

We stood in silence on the porch, boisterous laughter, clinking glasses, and feet scuffling about on the weathered cherry wood floor sounding off in waves within the public house.

“So what now?” Dina reluctantly asked.

“As far as the mission goes, nothing,” I concluded with a shrug. “In the meantime, we have a public house to run. Zeveth, get Lilac hitched up and work the bar.”

“Easier said than done, but I’m on it,” he replied with a nod.

“Dina,” I continued, “go help Cadryt and Wulfric on the floor. I’m sure they need it.”

“Will do as soon as I find Rumbum.” She leaned back, scanning the area just past the entrance for the elderly badger. “Probably doesn’t even know where he is, the poor thing…”

“Just keep him off the bar,” I sighed before walking past the two of them. Pulling my coat tightly around me in an effort to cover up the wounds from the night’s work, I strolled into the crowd, letting my body push aside the swinging door. The amalgamation of voices barraged my ears as I slowly advanced through the crowd towards the bar, gently moving aside anyone who drunkenly stumbled into me. Surprisingly, Vagabond’s Bluff was in one piece on Pike Night, a bloody miracle considering the festivities were going to start late. I could only assume that the sheer amount of people walking about and conversing in small groups were merely jockeying for a good view of the expansive center table, but all the other, smaller round tables scattered around the main floor were occupied as well. Several of them had the rich scent of a stew wafting from them; undoubtedly Quinsy was in top form tonight, even with such a massive horde to cook for. Images of a public house at its best passed before my eyes as I passed through: several games of Liar’s Dice and Archemia’s Summit dominating most of the tables, a pack of Gavik seated by the roaring hearth amusing themselves with tall tales, a buxom human woman running a finger along the tip of a Faenani’s ear as she leans towards him in a mix of shamelessness and intoxication. The only thing mission was a spirited troupe of minstrels, and the usual clientele of Vagabond’s Bluff would be complete.

“Would someone get this damn thing off the table?!”

I heard the commotion before I saw it, a high-pitched cry of annoyance to my left; a Faenani woman with silver hair sat in a chair scooted far from the edge of the table, trying to reach for a glass of rum as if it were blocked by an invisible wall. Instead, a badger more grey than black lapped at it like it was water.

“I said shoo!” she cried out again.

Rumbum glanced up at the Faenani for a moment, licked his lips, than continued to enjoy his commandeered drink.

I rolled my eyes, scanning the crowd in vain.

Dina!” I called out. “Come get this senile little shit before I-“

“Coming!” she exclaimed as she ran by, scooping up the badger in one motion. Rumbum growled in protest, flailing to no avail in her arms as they disappeared into the crowd. The woman blinked twice at the strange display, then scooted her chair back to the table.

“Sorry about that, ma’am,” I said sheepishly. “I’ll make sure you get another round on the house, alright?”

While still a little alarmed, she smiled up at me in reply. “That would be lovely. Thank you, Strawman.”

Crisis averted, I returned on my way; even after the embarrassing incident, it still warmed my heart to see a full house, and a happy one at that. Anything remotely close to a bad time, upon further inspection, was just the occasional pair of eyes falling on me in a mix of fright and morbid curiosity at my obviously ill mood. Never a surprise, honestly; when people looked at an angry Bruuk, I imagine nothing but fond memories of the Kaifell coming alive in their minds. It never bothered me, however. I was out of a prison cell and serving them their alcohol. What irony.

The crowd was mostly human, as the were most every night, but I could still isolate a healthy smattering of Gavik brushing by underfoot and Faenani intermingling with the humans as they always did. They almost never talked amongst their own, but you could always spot the latter out of a crowd of even a hundred. They were always the ones getting laughs from everyone listening in on their jokes, the ones always getting bought drinks, and more often than not, the ones get hit on by those with a little too much to drink. That was the way all of the Faenani were, unexplainably easy to trust and an absolute joy to be near. In fact, it was damn near painful to leave the company of one, and that had nothing to do with someone having a love for pointy ears and pale skin.

“Oi, Fire Blood!” A voice like gravel called out, easily distinguishable from the multitude of voices. “What’s takin’ you on that extra round of ale! Ain’t got all night!”

“Right away, mister!” boomed a voice behind me.

I turned back, just in time to feel a massive body collide into my side accompanied by a light splash of ale. How I stayed on my feet after Wulfric Ilt-Ama ran into me, I’ll never know; just shy of seven feet of Ken-Kuni would be more than enough to lay out anyone. I wasn’t quite sure what Livy and I joked about more: the fact that a Ken-Kuni as big as he was existed, or that he would likely cause a rock slide over the River Sevek if he actually tried scaling the cliffs. The wall of a bar swain whipped around as soon as he brushed off of me, ale splashing over the edge of a pitcher he carried in one hand.

“My apologies, mister, I-…Oh! Strawman! How did it-“

“Could’ve been better, Wulfric,” I admitted with a weak smile. “But no one’s too hurt.” The doctored wounds on my side smarted slightly, clearly saying otherwise.

He nodded rapidly, running his opposite hand through the orange beard running down to his chest in a vain attempt to straighten it. “Good to hear, boss. I would’ve helped out if I could, but I-“

Today, ya big oaf!” called out the same voice from before.

I turned to face him with a stern glare, turning the human man’s dirty scowl into a surprised, close-mouthed expression of repentance. Wulfric gestured towards him and the rest of the crowd.

“…Been busy, y’see?”

“I figured. Good news, though. Dina will be helping you out in a bit.”

His bright orange eyes brightened as a grin came across his face. “I’ve sure been needing help! Thank ya, boss!”

And with that, he lumbered away towards the man I silenced. I slide through the crowd once again, eventually making my way to the bar. If anything was the centerpiece of Vagabond’s Bluff, it was the bar. Extending almost the entire length of the public house save for the narrow staircase to the second floor, the perfectly polished cherry wood glowed golden from the light of the hearth. Every seat in the extensive row of stools was full, but I could see a short figure darting from customer to customer just beyond them. Cadryt Crum’s hair, blonde almost to the point of white, seemed to be protected by a thin, snow white field of twine as frizzy as it was. Despite typically keeping it in a tight bun, the heat of the Bluff combined with more stress than a human girl barely taller than the bar could handle often took its toll. She smiled pleasantly, albeit incredibly rehearsed, and hastily filling a customer’s empty flagon. She whipped around, grabbing a squat bottle of whiskey from the sizable shelf behind her, then rushed to another customer in a tizzy. She locked eyes with me as I drew near, and the smile on her face slowly morphed into a scowl.

“Strawman,” she stated quietly before gently placing the bottle and the counter.

“Evening, Cadryt,” I sighed, leaning in between a pair of customers who seemed to be keeping to themselves. “I’ll be needing the keys to the office for a bit.”

She stooped underneath the bar, and with a loud clinking sound, procures two shot glasses and set them near the whiskey bottle. “I’ve been needing more sets of hands to help me run a public house while you’re gone.” She looked up at me with the same sham of a smile, pouring out a pair of shots. “You haven’t heard me complaining.”

I forced a grin on my own as she slid the two glasses to a nearby customer. “Y’know, it’s really funny how you keep doing that thing where you decide to say no to your boss,” I chuckled. “You’re catching me on a bad day, princess.”

How she hated to be called that. A glared flared from her royal blue eyes, only for her to glance towards the door as two customers scooting back in their stools with intent to leave; her cheery demeanor return almost immediately as she beamed the sun itself at them.

“Hope to see you at the Bluff again soon, gentlemen!” she called. “Have a safe night!” She glanced back at me with her true enmity after the door swung closed. “Oh, please do!” she said with faux enthusiasm as she stooped beneath the counter again. “Another life or death job requiring most of the staff, I assume?” A metallic rattle could be heard as she lifted a heavy iron chain with a matching key on the end, holding it up for me. At least she had enough sense to not scuff the bartop with it.

“Actually yes,” I uttered as I snatched the chain from her small hands. “And you can stop your whining. I’ve got help on the way.”

“Renewal Day’s come early,” she stated flatly as she collected the empty mugs and bowls from the now empty spots. “When you hire some full time workers, I’ll get excited.” She came upon a pair of silver coins, looked disappointed, then stowed them away in the pocket of her apron.

“Those cost money, Cadryt,” I replied in irritation. “Something that doesn’t grow on trees, despite whatever you’ve been told.”

She let out a hard laugh, cramming the dirty dishes in a bin beneath the bar with some effort. “I’ll have you know my father taught me the value of coin when I was younger! Zeveth was there in Devento as well, he can tell you-“

“That you got a pony a week on a slow month?” Zeveth asked, ”Probably.”

Cadryt let out a cry in shock at the sudden arrival of the Halfkin, nearly dropping the mug in her hands. Zeveth, however, was already refilling a customer’s mug with ale. Her face turned a soft shade of red as she stomped over.

“What in blazes are you doing here?!” she demanded.

“Helping.”

“And just what makes you so sure of that, pray tell?!”

He folded his arms and looked to the ceiling in mock thought. “Well, I had only been a servant to the Crum’s for eight years before they lost their fortune, but I have some hazy memories here and there. Mostly of a knee-high little tyrant in frilly dresses, this shrill child’s scream echoing down elegant hallways…but who can say now?”

I could see a look on Cadryt’s face suggesting she was about to pounce on him in rage, but the nearby scooting of stool caused her to turn with a grin fashioned out of gritted teeth. I left them to tend to the customers; if they wound up killing each other, at least a few patrons could refer to it as a floorshow. I made my way just past the staircase to the rooms for rent and turned right, facing the padlocked entrance to the cellar. I swore under my breath as I lugged the unwieldy chain towards the lock, trying to maneuver the key to my hands. It was an inconvenience, sure, but I wanted to keep the office’s keys both away from non-employees and easy to hear if they had been taken. Fiddling with the lock for a moment, the lock gave way and I yanked the door back; the faint glow of an oil lamp flickered across the dirt floor beyond the steps at my feet.

The cellar was a small one, but it felt larger considering how little was in it. Cretch wanted the brewing and storage of all house brews to be on the main floor, and it was one of the few sound ideas he’d ever had. Besides, I wanted my office to have the bare essentials, and that’s what I had. On the far back wall was a writing desk, found in shockingly good shape in a home the Baron had long ago seized and leveled. It looked tremendously out of place in the dirt room, various papers, letters, and inventory ledgers stacked in neat piles on top. The oil lamp flickered on the opposite side of the paperwork, albeit dimly and in desperate need to oil. The only other items were to the right, a tapped barrel of mean with a pewter mug on top, and a pair of square bales of hay covered by a white sheet of cloth. I sighed as I approached the desk, taking a seat on the wobbly chair sifting through the paperwork but only half looking at anything written down.

“Anything worth noting?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Liviana leaning in the doorframe, merely a silhouette with the light of the main floor at her back. She was dressed in her usual clothes now, dark green tunic with brown leather pants and boots far more suited for field work than a dress. The only things that remained were the soft glint of pearl earrings and the ivory white ribbons around her arms, but the latter was now wrapped more akin to a thick layer of bandages than any accessory meant to be titillating.

“A good bit, actually,” I murmured, eyes scanning a set of hastily scrawled numbers running along what appeared to be a cloth rag. “From what I can tell, profits are down for the month?”

She sighed, her boots crunching at the dirt underfoot as she came closer. “Somehow, yeah.” I felt her lean forward onto the headrest of the chair. “I mean, crowds have thinned out with all the living space being scooped up, but it shouldn’t be that dramatic.”

I frowned in confusion. Vagabond’s Bluff usually drew in gold by the hundreds, leaving a bit for savings after wages and restocking. But from what I could tell, the fraction of savings had become nonexistent.

“That fifty gold missing isn’t from the bounty fund, I’m guessing,” I said as I turned back to Livy.

“Nope. And that’s not going up by much thanks to tonight’s fiasco.”

I stared blankly at the mess before us in silence for a moment, then slowly let my forehead fall upon the desk in exhaustion.

“Livy,” I mumbled.

“Yes?”

“Don’t let me look at paperwork again.”

“You never do anyway,” she replied with a hint of concern. She scooped up the notes and thumbed through them, squinting from the near complete lack of light. It was easy to forget no one else could do with as little light as I could.

“My first thought is someone’s stealing from us,” she said before tossing the papers back down. “I don’t want it to be, but it is.”

“Who’re you thinking?” I said, still not bothering to lift my head.

“No one we know, but I don’t see it’s remotely possible. You keep the office locked, and only you know where the safe is.”

“Then it was stolen from the front, if anywhere,” I grumbled. “Cadryt’s been a little too ornery for my liking lately.”

Another pause, followed by a laugh. “Cadryt? That same girl at fourteen who knocked on your door and said she was to start working for you that night?” In a rare display, Liviana let out a giggle. “Never knew you for jokes. She’s needed money ever since she had to leave Devento, but nothing that extreme.”

I shrugged in response, my eyelids beginning to droop threateningly. Well then, I don’t know what we’re doing, Livy.” Suddenly, I felt a pair of delicate hands attempt to lift me back by the shoulders.

“Well, you can start by getting up and ready for Pike Night.”

“…I never promised I’d be up for that.”

“Oh come on!” she groaned. “You’re always one to represent the Bluff!”

“You really think I want to drink myself stupid with a thief at work?”

“You can win some of what we would’ve gotten from that last job, right?” She slapped at a coin purse fastened to her belt, full enough to make a more muted jingle.

I lay there for a few more seconds, still feeling the illusory weight clinging to my entire body left behind by the adrenaline of the night, then rose with some help from the Faenani. I turned, squinting from the harshness of the main level’s light. “If I must…but don’t expect me to use my own cut to play,” I said with a weak smirk as I started to walk towards the stairs. “Sounds like you got enough gold for both of us anyway.”

“Wouldn’t think of it. Needed to apologize for what I said back on the carriage.”

I shrugged. “Don’t know why, considering it was true.”

“But uncalled for all the same. It was low of me to bring up the Slatenauts, I just wanted you…everyone to be okay, y’know?”

I yawned as the unending chatter of the crowd overtook the quiet of my “office.” “We’ll leave the planning to you then,” I chuckled.

Good people of the cliffs, can I have your attention please?”

The dull roar faded out almost immediately as every head turned to face the bar; Cretch stood on the bartop, one foot dirtying the polished wood, the other firmly planted in a half empty soup bowl.

“Lords and ladies of Vagabond’s Bluff, grab yourself a seat and get comfortable for a round of Head on a Pike! Who’s ready for a show?”

Every customer, seated and standing, let out a cheer or similar ballyhoo, most holding their glass high as they did so. It always confounded me how the puny creature could hold the undivided attention of every individual in the public house. And yet he did once or twice a month.

“Then may I turn your attention to our main table,” he continued. “Our challengers from this evening hail from the cliff just across the way! They’re twin brothers who claim they can handle their drink. Let’s see if the Clemeau brothers can back that up!”
Another volley of cheers filled the bluff, as it always did for the challengers. Seated side by side at the center table were two human men who would’ve been easily distinguishable as twins had one of them not been at least thirty pounds heavier. The Clemeau seated to the right was a hefty man, his head looking like a ripe tomato with a tuft of black hair for the leaves. His brother, however, was a rail thin man with shoulder length hair matching his brother’s only in its raven-like sheen; he leaned back in his chair with confidence, clearly not the main drinker of the team. They both eyed us as we awkward moved through the crowd and took a seat opposite them, the skinny one leaning over to whisper into his brother’s ear.

“What’d he say?” I whispered to Liviana.

He pointed ears twitched in irritation. “Something about you being a skinny little milksop and me being here just for show.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Just wait till they get the right drink.”

“And their opponents!” Cretch said with increased gusto. “Representing the Bluff tonight are the co-owners. We’ve got the prettiest lass in all of Minnows Bydown, along with the man who built this place with his own two hands! I give you Liviana Alliys and Strawman himself!”

The crowd erupted at that, prompting Liviana to awkwardly wave to everyone around. I merely leaned forward and stared at our opponents, leaning my clasped hands to support my heavy head; as nice as the applause for running the place was, the occasional whistle and catcall towards the Livy only worsened my mood. The skinnier of the Clemeau brothers noticed me and smirked.

“Something eatin’ ya, lightweight?”

I stared back at him with no emotion. “Just hate to see a customer lose so much money for nothing.”

His portly brother let out a wheezing laugh at that. “Oh come off it!” he chortled, “I’ll drink you under the table, Half-Bruuk.”

Movement at the bar could be heard near the bar, and I turned my head to watch. Wulfric and Cadryt exited the door to the kitchen, both carrying a covered silver tray in each hand. Cretch spoke again as two trays were carefully placed on either side of him

“For those who are unfamiliar with the rules, both teams will wager five silver each at the start of the round. Then I’ll reveal one of the drinks for tonight, and the team can either wager more coin to pass it to the other, or drink it themselves.” He smiled a yellowed, razor-sharp grin. “Do keep in mind that these are from my private reserves. Not for the faint of heart, ya understand.”

I suppressed a gulp, but heard a few in the crowd. The Bluff had its standard drink. It had its fine imports that I was proud to offer people. Then there was what I never listed on the menu, abominations that could only be explained as freak brewing accidents. These were too strong for Gavik standards, and I knew Cretch could subsist off kerosene and rocks if need be.

“If a team member keeps a drink down, the round’s winnings go in their pot,” Cretch continued. “Once every drink is quaffed, both team wins half the pot while the rest goes to the house…Oh, and if anyone on a team can’t drink, it’s a forfeit.”

Liviana gave me a sideways glance. “You taking Head on a Pike this time?”

I frowned. Cretch hadn’t even mentioned the game’s namesake drink. Then again, he didn’t include it every time.

“Makes no difference,” I whispered. “I’d like to think we won’t get stuck with it.”

“Without further ado, cast the first bid!” said Cretch before hopping off the bar.

The bloated Clemeau extended a hammock of a fist and opened it, dropping five silver pieces in the center of the table.

“May the best team win,” he said in a mildly mocking tone.

Liviana reached into her belt pouch for the silver, and I could only stare at the coins as they bounced off the wooden surface. It was always disgusting to me how much a life depended of a few tiny chips of metal. A vital ingredient to my public house’s survival, the very reason I stuck out my neck on contracts for people I never knew, and it was nothing but a societal imposition. I know for a fact I could run to the surface, live off the crops above and sleep underneath the stars. But that wouldn’t be good enough for “civilized” folk; I would call it living amongst the beauty of nature rarely seen in today’s age while others would simply see me as a troll-blooded savage.

“Hey.”

Liviana snapped me out of my trance, a mischievous glint in her bright green eyes. “For the Bluff?”

I nodded slowly.

“For the Bluff.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5 & 6