The sound of thunder jumpstarts his heart and springs Leor off the bed. He calls forth his katana and hovers his hand over the hilt. His eyes dart around the room. The same dusty, old living quarters with rotting wood and stained walls stare back at him.

“Goddamn it…. Not again.” Leor lets out a deep sigh and lays his katana against the nightstand, next to his shorter blade, a wakizashi. “Maybe I should lay off the alcohol”.

Rain lightly taps against the lone glass window that hangs opposite the bed. Staring out of it, he looks at the Church of Naiomi that towers over all of Thálassa. Rays of sun peek through the grey clouds and illuminate a squad of armed guards patrolling the skies on horseback.

A stern voice yells from below. “Everyone, it’s almost time for Lord Alden’s speech! Please head to the Church in an orderly and timely manner!”, shouts a guard, ushering hoards of people like cattle.

Leor looks down at them and scoffs. “Alden, huh? What kind of clown will be spouting nonsense today?”

A low, growl pinches his stomach. He plucks his coin pouch from the nightstand and opens it with one eye closed. A single silver coin sits at the bottomless pit. His stomach growls once more as if it knows that it will not be having breakfast again.

Leor pinches his eyes together. “Shit... I spent too much on booze last night…” He peers back into his coin pouch and rubs his stomach. “This job better not be a scam…”

He slips on his all-black gear: a sleeveless kimono topped off with a hooded cloak, pants that taper into his worn leather boots, and fingerless gauntlets. Leor reaches out his hand and in a few seconds, his weapons fly from the nightstand into his grasp. He unsheathes both weapons and inspects the blades.

Unlike his other equipment, Leor’s katana and wakizashi, a pair of single-edged swords are nothing to scoff at. The handles have seen better days, but the blades have no nicks and give off an arousing aura. He smiles into the reflection the swords give off and nods with satisfaction.

After the careful inspection, Leor attaches his katana to his left waist and tucks the shorter wakizashi on his back. He swings the door open and makes his way downstairs to the lobby.

The lobby is faintly illuminated by fire-lit lamps. The walls are slightly cracked and look like they could collapse if someone rested against them, and the furniture grows a bush of cobwebs.

The man with his feet perched up, sitting behind the counter is the owner, Gerald. He is a tall, balding, muscular man with a 5 o’clock shadow. The scars on his arms tell a story of hardship. Many wouldn’t dare speak to him directly since he has the eyes of a feral animal.

Gerald hears the wooden floor creak as Leor walks toward the counter.

Sarcastically, Gerald asks, “Oh, aren’t you up early? Have a good sleep?”

Leor lets out a small chuckle. “How could I? You already know how shitty the beds are here. When will you upgrade this shitty place?”

Gerald laughs loudly. “Maybe if you paid me rent on time, I could make this place look nicer. You’re about six months behind!”

Leor clicks his tongue. “You should already know it’s hard for people like us to find any jobs in this line of work.” He points at Gerald’s shiny dome. “Maybe if you hired someone nicer to look at, you’d have more business! I mean, look at you. You scare any potential customers away with that mean mug of yours.”

Gerald doesn’t move from his seat and puffs on a cigar while he reads the newspaper. “Yeah, yeah. You and I both know if I changed anything, this place wouldn’t be the same. This shithole is the only remaining inn that does things traditionally” He moves the newspaper out the way and points back at Leor. “And you’re one to talk! You’re dressed in all black like it’s a funeral. Your hair matches your clothes and your eyes make you look dead inside. You should just offer your services to the cemetery!”

“Tsk. Yeah, yeah, whatever”. Leor turns his nose up and gives Gerald a smug grin. “Well, I’ll have you know that I have a contract today and it pays a lot.”

Gerald remains slouched in his chair. “Oh, really? What a surprise.”

Leor slams the counter. “Yes, ‘really’, you thoughtless old man. And it pays a thousand GOLD coins!”

Gerald raises one eye. “Hmmm… You sure it’s not a scam?”

“Of course, it isn’t.” snaps Leor, knowing full well that it’s probably a scam.

“Alright, if you say so. The job must be pretty intense if it’s for that much money. Just come back safely so you can finally pay me”, says Gerald as he reaches behind the counter. “Here, take this. You spent all your money on booze last night again, right?” He hands Leor a small loaf of bread.

Like routine, Leor reluctantly takes the bread into his mouth and makes his way out the door. With his back turned to Gerald, Leor raises his hand above his head to signal his departure.