Busser's Greed

Downing his ale, Fen grumbled to himself as he stared at the poorly lit shit hole he was drinking in. Being in the slums, this crummy tavern wasn't a place for weaklings to be hanging around, but Fen had been here enough times that no one messed with him. The stench of stale ale and the sight of flooring covered in straw and dropped food was a far cry from what the Hungry Mare was. The shabby scum and slum dwellers didn't help matters any either, with their carousing and fights. However, Fen didn't mind. Here, he didn't have to grovel in front of some dickhead, who thought his plate wasn't clean enough or his meat wasn't cooked well enough. More than that, he didn't have to deal with the bossy bitch, who ran the Hungry Mare.

It wasn't that Fen wasn't grateful for the helping hand he had gotten from the woman years ago, when he lost his livelihood, but having spent years cleaning and cooking around the damn tavern hadn't gotten him anywhere. It didn't help that the woman always kept a hawkish eye on everyone, so he couldn't even take a sip of ale in her damn tavern.

Fen felt it was even worse that ‘street rats’ and beggars were showing up at the tavern for handouts. It was wrong. All the hard work he did with nothing but a measly two silvers a week to show for it, and then some brats show up holding out their grubby paws for charity. It wasn't right! Today, when that brat Val showed up, it had galled Fen when he was sent off to cart off some garbage like he was a nobody. Then, the ‘street rat’ showed up again right before supper time, just waltzing through the tavern like he owned the place. What truly infuriated Fen, however, was the fact that the brat was now living in the tavern attic. Fen fumed at the fact that he was living in the same place as some beggar off the streets. Slamming his tankard on the table, Fen spat off to the side in anger.

“Ya seem like ye’ve got someun’ drivin’ a shovel up yer ass.” The almost scornful words drew Fen’s attention to the side. A scruffy thug, looking like he had been worked over a good bit, was standing near the table with a couple of his friends nearby.

“Ribus. You look like shit.” Fen smiled nastily at the bully, knowing him well enough to not worry about repercussions.

The thug sat down with a scowl, grating out, “Watch what ya say, kitchen boy.” The label irritated Fen, but he didn’t counter it. Instead, he leaned back a bit, stretching his muscles a bit.

“You wouldn’ be sittin’ here fer the fun of it. What do ya want?” Fen wasn’t exactly friends with the street thug, but neither were they enemies. They had dealings in the past, mostly about things Fen had overheard from the Hungry Mare and sometimes about some patrons, who seemed to be free with their coins and a bit overindulgent in their drink.

“I ‘eard down the vine that ya got a ‘street rat’ livin’ in the Mare. That true?” Ribus hunched over the table, his face suddenly serious.

Fen scowled, wondering how many ‘eyes’ the thug had on the tavern, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t interested in where this line of conversation was going. “And so, what do ya want with the boy?”

“I won’ say I don’t got a bone to pick with ‘im, but this time someun’s willin’ to pay good coin fer the boy.” Ribus was whispering by this time, which told Fen enough to know things were a lot bigger than he had thought.

Fen considered the situation, looking down at his callus covered hands for a while. Finally he whispered back, “It’s gonna cost ‘em.”

Tavern Maid's Courage

Sallie couldn't sleep. Part of it was the excitement from the long day, and some it was the homesickness she felt, when she thought of her village. It had been a cozy, little place with a half a dozen or so families making ends meet without too many problems coming their way. However, her family had been a little too big, and with eight siblings both ahead of and behind her, staying in the village would have made life more difficult for her family. Thankfully, one of her older brothers had been working in the city and had found Sallie relatively decent work. Thinking about what she had heard about 'Whore Lane,' Sallie shivered and mentally thanked Mistress Carlen for giving a village girl with mud still on her feet a chance.

What more, she had even been given her own room in the tavern with a bed of all things. Only her parents and her oldest brother and his wife back home had beds. The rest of family had slept on the floor, covering themselves with old, woolen blankets for comfort at night. Just as she tried to get more comfortable under her new blanket, feeling its softness and clean smell, she heard a shuffling noise from outside her room. She went quiet and pulled her blanket up to her chin, a part of her imagining some beastly drunk breaking into her room to have her way with her.

Fortunately, her wild fantasy remained just that, a fantasy. Instead, the footsteps stopped a little past her room, with a creaking noise taking its place and muffled words filtering in through the walls. Sallie knew that the only other man in the tavern was the busser, Fen. He was a grumpy one, just like her uncle and seemed to be always scowling at everything. Then, Sallie remembered that there was someone new living in the tavern: the young boy from before supper time. She wondered what was going on, especially went the sound of two distinct footsteps filled the hallway outside, heading back towards the staircase.

She hesitated for a while, before her curiosity got the better of her. Getting out of bed, she tried to find her leather shoes, but just as she about to slip them on, she heard noise from the yard outside. Her window was slightly open to let some cool air in, but it also gave her a clear view of the yard downstairs. Wondering what was happening, she quietly peeked out the window, leaving her stunned.

Some large man was stuffing the boy into a large sack, while Fen was standing nearby, holding a candle and saying something, while motioning towards the sack. “Told... would.... 10 gold... lie....” Sallie could barely make out the words, but she was too busy covering her mouth, trying to keep from screaming. However, she almost did scream, when the bald man lunged toward Fen, a dagger gleaming in the night. Almost mercilessly, the dagger ripped into Fen's neck, leaving the man clutching his neck and stumbling, before collapsing to the ground and going still.

Sallie stayed frozen, watching the bald man finish stuffing the boy into the sack and sling the large parcel over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, before walking off. She felt her heart racing as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. More than that, she remembered what her mother had told her before she came to the city: to see and hear as little as possible. However, something in Sallie wouldn't let her forget the boy. He was about the same age as one of her younger brothers.

Lowering her hands, she let out the breath she had been holding before grabbing her cloak on her way to her room's door. Sallie didn't know what was going on and she wasn't some glorious Temple knight, but she also couldn't just ignore what she had witnessed. Sallie just hoped she could remember the way to Mistress Carlen's home.