Time for dinner! Oh damn, I nearly forgot Malik’s loan. Even a part payment will be better than nothing. Not getting stabbed in the back by a thug at night is a good reason to have it paid and done. Where do I find a helpful, cheap courier service? Hopefully, it doesn’t cost too much to send a small package.

Traders yell out their wares to me as I walk down Market Lane. Sometimes I can hear the catch in their voice like if I do not buy that trinket, their family will starve. Dwarves have it down to a fine art. It is hard not to care when a dwarf opens their mouth.

I am increasingly amazed at how little imagination these people had when they decided to name the streets. Does Market Lane lead to the market, perchance? Okay, okay, I already know. I have been living in this town for nearly three months but still, think it is funny.

There it is, a courier station: Jameson & Son. Wow. I mean wow, such an excellent sign. Maybe this street should be called Courier Street or Jameson Place? Upon entering, I can see the non-stop excitement in the droopy, white moustache of the attendant! Why do all administrators need to be crusty old men? At one time they would have been crusty young ones, but still.

“Excuse me, I would like to send a package to the Anvil and Musket, attention to Malik. How much will that cost me?”

“The cost will be twenty bits. You can have a brief message with it too.”

Only twenty bits and even with a message! More money down the drain.

‘Dear Malik. Here are twenty-five slips. Pay the rest soon. Please don’t kill me. Love …’ so on and so forth. Wow, how annoying, begging for my life.

As I step back outside into Market Place, I feel the need for an ale or a beer, and pie, or even some stew. Mmm, stew. I spy a half-breed vendor, clean-shaven with a hat and a spotless apron. Strange to see someone with such clean clothes.

I head over. “What is on the menu today?”

“Not much; still waiting for the local farmers to deliver. I have stew. It is a bit thin, but the bread should soak it up, and I will throw in a half pint as well for eighty bits.”

As he opens the pot, there really is not much in there. Some floating vegetables and no chunks of meat. There is a hint of bitterness in the smell like it has been on for days.

“Seems a bit old. How about fifty bits?”

He sighs. I got him! “Fine, but yesterday’s bread.”

Looking at the thin stew he puts in a clean bowl, I hand over a silver slip. I feel as though this is not the time to haggle, especially with a fellow half-breed. “I am sorry. Here, keep the change. What is your name, Mr Vendor?”

A glint of moisture seems to come to his eyes. It must be the onion he chopped earlier. Mela’s grace, how I hated cooking in the army; mess hall prep was the worst.

“Name is Brice Marden.” He hands me my bowl and a full pint, then makes a special point of choosing a fresh bread roll. His aqua hair poking out from under his hat is a dead giveaway he is a half-gnome. “Yeah, the stew’s been on the heat for a bit. All I can do is make good bread and add water to the stew. I’m not the only one hurting; even dwarves can’t get produce.”

Breaking open the roll, the aroma of freshly baked bread is the best. I even spot grain and nuts inside. Tearing the little loaf apart, I throw it into the bowl. “Has anyone headed out to see what is happening?”

“Yeah, us smaller vendors scraped some money together to hire a party. We haven’t heard anything from them yet.”

Taking a swig of my amber brew, the taste is marvellous. Nutty, with a hint of the bitterness that marks a good ale. Far better than the Musket’s amber dishwater.

A thought comes to me—a good way to save money. “I’m an Adventurer. If you give me a meal and drink once a day, I’ll have a look for you.”

Brice regards me, his eyes full of suspicion. “Can I see your licence?” Damn it, all I have is the bit of paper Royce gave me. Showing him that, his face lights up. “Thank the Trinity! Mela, Jara and Jenell be praised! You’ll cost us far less than the Charter we hired last week.”

Damn, I am too cheap! “I’ll ask around and see what is happening.”

Now I’m kicking myself. I should have asked for money as well as food!

“If you do this, to make it fair, I’ll give you two meals a day!’ he says. “We need the trade route to start again, but we should be all right as long as the grain and fish hold out, as they come by ship.”

“Ah, thanks.”

Another customer comes up, and Brice starts to talk to them. I need to start thinking about where to sleep. Shovelling food into my mouth, the flavour is probably the best I have tasted since… forever!

As I enjoy the stew and bread, I start pondering my situation. I cannot go back to the Anvil. Too much of a risk, especially since I haven’t paid Malik in full. I could move to another inn, just in case the stabby thing is still on the cards. I cannot trust Malik as far as I can throw him. Yes, I will find a place to tide me over till I get this Watch work. Maybe Brice will know of a cheap place around here.

I finish my meal and ale while he serves customers two and three. I can understand why he is popular; his bread is to die for! “Hey Brice, do you know of a cheap place to stay around here?”

“An inn, or something more permanent?”

Permanent? What is that? “Just an inn.”

He cocks his head for a moment. “You could try Corbin’s.” He points to a dirty, grey brick building. “If you head towards that building and take the first alleyway, you’ll find it. Not the best place, but it’s the cheapest. Most places around here are expensive, but Corbin’s is the best price if you can deal with the company.”

“Thanks, Brice. I will keep you up to date on my progress. See you later on, then.”

He nods at me and starts to serve another customer.

As I walk over to the grey building, I am not filled with confidence that this will be a nice place. The alley has very little light; spying people huddling in rags makes the atmosphere less appealing, but I only have four slips and seventy bits left.

A worn and dirty sign has a name barely legible, apparent blood stains on the stone pathway, the smell of sewage and ale is evident.

Okay inside could be better. Let us see; a piece of ceiling falls off in front of me. Must be Bruce’s sister inn. Cracked stone tables and roughly carved stones for chairs. Barman spitting into the glass to clean it; wrong, but what can you do? There is plumbing in Lake Merrin; why not rinse your cups with clean water, not spit?

This place is not perfect, but no way Malik’s Boys will venture into enemy territory. Ican tell that even threatened with the darkest pit of the Abyssus, I would not eat here. Time to barter for a room. Charisma, do not leave me now!

“Good day, barkeep. I was wondering if you had a room free for the next few days?”

He looks at me with watery, bloodshot eyes and grunts. His bald head is ringed with dirty blonde hair. He spits. Such a charming fellow.

“Two silver slips a night. Three if you want company,” he said, roughly.

“My dear … may I ask your name, barkeep?”

“Corbin.”

Glad this guy cannot read my thoughts.

“My dear Corbin, I am only asking to stay a few nights, not buy the actual room. So how about we make it two slips for the next two days? I will be willing to offer my services as a bouncer for this period too,” I say, jingling my sword a little for dramatic effect.

He looks me up and down and smiles. “You must be a Registered. Could use someone with that sort of talent.”

Is it just me or is he even creepier now?

“Okay, two silver slips for two days, but you’ll be doing double shifts and no food. Also, you sleep in the common room.”

“I am willing to accept that offer.” Not much choice! “Four shifts in two days. How long are the shifts?”

“Six hours. You’ll be on from dusk to dawn,” he eloquently grunts at me.

Is it just me or has my luck turned? Either that or my negotiation skills are failing me. I will play out this shift, then head back to that joke of a place, Anvil and Musket, to pick up my stuff.

Corbin grunts at me and hands me a heavy lead pipe from under the bar. “No swords! You can keep the knife, but don’t kill anyone in public. The Watch isn’t gentle when finding corpses around here, and if they do, it costs me a larger bribe. So, if I hear you’ve ended someone too close to my business I’ll make sure you pay the difference.”

He leans in, and I am almost knocked out by his foul breath. When will people learn to use charcoal to clean their teeth? Heck, I do.

“If you need to teach someone a lesson, throw them out, drag them into the lane in the back and give them a good kick or a little killing out there.”

Again with ‘killing someone a little’. The villains around here use strange terminology.

Scoping the place out, I take in all the sights and smells. Large saloon with twelve stone tables, a long bar with large stone blocks as seats; a raised stage for music, perhaps? Three bar wenches on the job and a couple of thugs who look rough. Well, three now, including me. I can crack a head if I need to, but I prefer to talk my way out of things.

The atmosphere does not seem too hostile at the moment. A few workmen just knocked off, and a merchant or two sipping wine in the corners. Might be an easy job after all.

Just have a little nap until my shift.