RFC-Mini Arc 4: Night Life-15 (Patreon)

“Oi, Lou. There was actually something I wanted to ask you.”

“Really? Couldn’t you just get in contact with me?”

“Ah, that would have been a pain.”

“Hah? Max has people swing by here periodically for our deliveries. You could have just slipped a note in with them.”

“No, no, that’s too easy. These people are devious. Who knows where they’ve got eyes planted?”

“Who?”

“Those guys. They’re back. You remember those hunters that were hassling me a while back?”

“Um…”

“Oh, come on. One of them tried their luck with the dusky and your little demon broke his leg. You sprinkled salt in the wound by stealing his sword.”

“Ah.” The mention of the sword jogs my memory. Kierra has it hanging in our room. Geneva, give me a picture.

[Here you are.]

I nod as she refreshes their faces for me. “What about them?”

“Thing is, their boss hasn’t given up on me. His teams have just come back from a campaign in the Peaks. Needless to say, people died. Now he’s looking for talent to fill in his ranks. He’s sending his dogs around to pester me.”

“Uh-huh. And what do you expect me to do about that?”

“You’re strong, right? Go tell them to leave me alone. Don’t care how you do it.”

“Hm…no.”

“Ah, come on. You hung up on that discount?”

I spread my hands. “As far as I’ve seen it, they may be aggressive but they aren’t thugs.” I only got involved before because they involved me. “Going to war with an entire guild because of a few passionate recruiters sounds like a pain.”

“Cheh. What kind of friend are you?”

“The kind that gives my gold.” I throw a few gold coins on the counter and motion toward the bottles on a higher shelf. “Here, see. Friendship.”

He swipes the money up like a the greedy goblin he is and pours us refills. Miss Alyssa downs her second mug, slamming the mug down with gleaming eyes. “Oh yeah. That’s the good stuff. What’re you pulling down?”

Howie sets down a glass bottle filled halfway with a pink and green liquid. I have no idea how the Myriad Zone works to give his concoctions such interesting colors. When I take them out of the special zone, they’re usually some shade of brown or clear. “This? For them, it’s just a strong drink. For you, it’s death. Don’t even think about it. Not even the dusky can keep you alive.”

Miss Alyssa gives me a look, likely wondering why he thinks I’m stronger than her. Luckily, she’s distracted by Howie refilling her mug.

“I’d love to meet your suppliers,” Cynthia says with a charming smile.

“I bet you would. They don’t want anything to do with humans. Feelings are still raw in some parts.”

“I would also love to meet these suppliers,” Kierra adds. “No offense to you Maxine, but the Guiness Company is rather slow.”

“It can’t be helped,” the merchant mutters. “Though we have open channels with foreign countries for trade, we aren’t welcomed by any means.”

“They want lessto do with you,” Howie snaps.

“Who might they be?”

“I’m not saying.”

Kierra grins. Ah, I know that look. That one says she really wants to know the answer and is willing to resort to questionable methods to get it. Howie recognizes it too, as he takes a large step away from the counter, expression nervous.

Fate saves him as the door is opened, followed by a parade of footsteps made especially loud by the quiet room. Conversations die as we all turn to the newcomers. I get a strong feeling of nostalgia taking in their leather and plate armor. Hunters, for sure. Five men, the youngest of whom could pass for an initiate while the oldest is a grizzled man with thick streaks of gray in his dark hair.

The one in the lead is a young man with tanned skin and dirty blonde hair. Handsome, I suppose, but his stiff features make him resemble a statue more than a man. He wears a minimum of leather armor, over a crisp white shirt and dark pants.

He eyes the room, his gaze stopping on Miss Alyssa. Because of my experience with Miss Talia and her problems emoting, I notice the twitch of his eyebrows as he stops himself from frowning. He raises a hand and the men stay behind as he continues forward.

He brushes off his immaculate vest before stepping up to the bar. Another twitch of his brows. Hm. I wonder, is he upset being here, being forced to linger at the end of the bar because of my large group, being forced to inhale the faint smell of mushrooms, or is it the fact that we’re all staring at him?

“Eh-hem.” He clears his throat and stares at Howie until the bartender meets his gaze. “Mr. Howie? My name is Simone, consul attached to the Shadow Wolf Guild. I’ve come to offer you a contract.”

“How many times—”

“A moment before your offer your usual grievances. This is not the same offer as before. You may or may not be aware of a recent expedition past the Peaks. That was for the purpose of scouting. A much larger campaign is being organized. The cold in the Peaks is just as deadly as the monsters. The guild is aware that your drinks are rather close to potions.”

“Oi!” Howie slams his hand on the counter, scowling fiercely. “I’m a brewer, not a hedge witch!”

Simone is unfazed. “I drew the comparison only to demonstrate that your wares have potent effects. We have information that you have a drink that can raise someone’s temperature?”

“Shroom Inferno, yeah.” I smother a groan, not wanting to interrupt them.

“There is also a drink that can combat negative effects of the mental affinity?”

“Shroom Sanity, uh-huh. As long as you don’t mind them being drunker than a dawnie sailor during low tide.”

“Excellent. The campaign would like to contract your services to brew these two drinks. By the barrel, Mr. Howie, and they will pay premium prices.”

Howie’s unease is almost completely gone, replaced by interest. “Gold is good.”

Simone smiles but it’s not a happy expression. More like the flash of teeth a predator shows its prey before pouncing. “The leaders of the campaign would like to test your wares and discuss prices with your personally.”

The bartender’s interest dims. “What are they thinking?”

“An informal gathering, here at the bar if you prefer.”

“As long as you’re willing to pay for it.”

“Good. Then, I will return later to discuss preparations.” His eyes flick to the side quickly. “The leaders of the campaign are very peculiar about their security.”

“Ah, yeah, well I’ll have my own security in place.”

“Perfectly acceptable. Then, I will bid you goodnight and return your response to my employers. Happy cooperation, Mr. Howie.” He dips into a quick bow before walking out of the bar, the hunters falling in line behind without so much as a word.

“Huh,” I say once the door closes behind him. “That was…anticlimactic.” No broken tables, no thrown chairs, not even a raised voice. I feel a bit disappointed.

“Don’t let one experience color your expectations for an entire group.” Kierra says sagely. “Though that was strange. The guilds are not usually so eloquent.”

Miss Alyssa snorts. “Ha! Their muscle wasn’t getting the job done so they sent in a paper pusher. You should watch out, barman. Those kinds are slimy.”

“That’s why I’m hiring security.” He looks at me.

“You’re kidding.”

“Come on, it’ll be easy. All you have to do is make sure they don’t kidnap me to steal my recipes. I’ll even pay you.”

“Were you thinking of not paying me!?”

“Oh, so you’ll do it!”

“Did I say that? Those ears of yours are just for show, right? That drooping is a sign that they don’t work, isn’t it?”

“They work better than those stunted nubs of yours. A miracle you can hear anything.”

“They’ll be good enough to hear you getting stuffed in a bag by those hunters. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the bar in good shape in case you ever manage to escape brewing hell.”

We glare at each other in silence. He’s the first to break it, sighing. “Half off all drinks for two weeks.”

“A month. Including deliveries.”

“You little—”

“Seeing as I’m obligating myself to fight an entire guild if they betray you, I’d say this is the least you could do.”

“Ah, fine.”

“Great!” It’s all a sham. As if I’d let anything happen to the grouchy goblin. Something I’m sure he knows or he wouldn’t have been so confident asking for my help, I bet. Besides, I’m curious about this campaign, mainly because it involves Fort Victory. That means the James family must be involved. “What do you say? A free round to celebrate?”

“Now you’re pushing it, brat.”