Unsteady hammering rang through the crisp summer air. Accompanied by erratic exclamations of surprise and pain it created the world's most dubious orchestra.

The still one member short Crescent Helpers were in the process of fixing the damage Roland had caused earlier. Their method however would make older people shake their head in disapproval, lamenting the ineptitude of today’s younger generations.

Instead of trying to create a structure similar to the rest of the railing, they simply boarded up the hole, stacking planks on top of each other and nailing them to the still standing parts of the railing.

The project’s overall aesthetics was very low on their priority list. So low in fact it seemed to have slipped off entirely, possibly having drowned in the merciless river or started a new life far away from this bustling city.

Thomas dutifully hammered where he was told to while Roland and Arthur kept the planks in place. Whenever they finished a plank Thomas rested for a bit, blowing air on his beaten hands with a martyr’s expression. The other two used the time needed for Thomas’ self-care to bend the nails protruding on the outside of the railing as best as they could.

Their eagerly hammering friend did not have the qualification for that part of the work, because the likelihood of him dropping his hammer into the river was frighteningly high.

A good hour later the hole had been replaced by a jarring brown wooden wall, looking greatly out of place next to the carefully built white railing. The urge to declare their work a disgrace on creation rose inside of Arthur, but Thomas’ prideful expression prevented him from voicing it out.

Their leader on the other hand had early on accepted that an abomination would be birthed today, so he wasn’t really fazed by their creation. Instead, his gaze rested on the greater part of the planks still remaining. Should be about enough for two more layers. It’s going to be wasteful, will look more eye-catching in the end however.

“Fifteen minutes break before we continue, you can walk around, but be back by then,” Roland announced, shaking the accumulated stiffness out of his hands.

“We’ll do more?” Arthur asked surprised, seeming a little tired. Though this stemmed not from their physical work, instead being more a mental tiredness caused by hearing Thomas’ shrill screams one too many times.

“Yeah, we’ll do the same thing again just halfway to the left and right to create a more stable structure,” Roland answered, meeting Arthur's questioning gaze head on.

When it came to bullshitting a reason for their activities, any seasoned veteran knew acting like what you were doing made sense was half the battle. One could sell the most absurd of explanations to anyone as long as you played it straight.

“That is going to look… Interesting,” Arthur grimaced. “I’ll go train a bit in the shade over there.”

He nodded in the direction of a rather large warehouse-like building a little off to the side. The Bridge, despite being fairly stable, was not a good place for exercise.

Thomas gave Arthur a pitying look upon hearing his plans, before wobbling off towards an easily accessible part of the riverbank. He unlike his friend planned on using his break to the fullest.

Roland stayed next to their little project, surveying the area slowly. Unlike when they first arrived, some people had started scurrying along here and there in the shadows. Some gave curious glances towards the group but none approached.

With all traders having left to sell their good there weren’t all that many outgoing people around. You could call them shy, but truthfully many of them hadn’t left the slums in weeks, if not months. Any kind of outsiders had quite the deterrent on them.

These people wore clothes of even worse quality than the trio’s, patched all over and often totally unfit in size. And while most looked healthy, by Roland’s admittedly low standards, some showed signs of malnourishment or had sickly complexions.

This rang especially true for the few children he saw. Running around in small groups, they scavenged around the area, searching for edible plants or useful scraps. A few older ones tried their luck catching fish in the river further upstream, not seeing much success due to their lackluster equipment.

One would think the Crescent Moon Orphanage should be responsible for taking in these street urchins. The reality of things however was quite different, as they actually had an admissions fee of five to ten gold coins you were required to pay when leaving a child there. More than a year’s worth of income for the average commoner.

Any funny business like dropping a basket with a baby inside next to the entrance would have one quickly dragged back by angry looking priests to discuss matters of responsibility and obligations.

The reason for the fee was that the orphanage not only sheltered, but also educated and prepared these children for the future. They took on the ancient name of Crescent, all previous ties broken, and became part of something greater, to an extent.

Even if they remained unremarkable their whole life, there would be a position found for them somewhere where they could be of use to society. As long as they did not turn out truant. Though those kinds could usually find a place of their own quickly enough, often times a few feet underground.

All of this led to the current Crescent Moon Orphanage being akin to a dumping ground for unwanted children of families with means throughout Vasperi, regularly receiving actual shipments of children from other cities. Much better on the conscience to know the child you gave away was in somewhat decent hands.

As for all these street children running around in the slums and seedy backstreets, many of them actually lived together with their parents in horrid conditions, at least having each other as support.

An equally large number however had nobody to rely on except themselves, trying to survive in the seedy underbelly of Soren. It being the only place that would take them. Because of this many children were forced to join organization known for being less than law-abiding just to survive.

The City Lord had tried to alleviate the problem. Actually breaking through long established and far-reaching foundations of many of these underworld organizations proved quite difficult however.

The circumstances surrounding Seasons sadly made it a perfect place for smuggling and trafficking. Countless small villages and untamed forests made it beyond easy for criminals to operate without being noticed.

Only Soren itself had any kind of official law enforcement. And even they did not cover the entire city, noticeably leaving the Backstreets to more or less govern themselves. Though over there noble influences were so high, it wasn’t really appropriate to talk about criminal activities. Something like ‘community outreach’ sounded more fitting.

The situation’s only saving graces were the Lunar Church and Soren’s military garrison, both having unmatched power when it came to overt conflicts. So, although countless criminal organizations certainly made heaps of profits in the dark, one slip up and they were done.

Resistance was paramount to suicide, as a single wounded soldier would be enough of an excuse for the dozens of bored Knights stationed at the garrison to come and 'punish all evildoers'.

That of course was nothing compared to the kind of hell which awaited these organizations should their activities damage as much as a single hair of one of the Lunar Priestesses.

There had been multiple raids by the church were criminals prostrated themselves on the ground instead of running away, simply because they feared a priestess might trip when chasing after them.

Having to share a city with these powerhouses was why Soren’s underworld organizations all so eagerly accepted the aforementioned stray children into their fold.

Knowing nothing while doing everything they were told, some scraps of food and barely acceptably housing being all one had to pay for their service. And if they got caught nothing of value was lost. Truly a great deal.

Thoughts of trying to help children like these came to Roland from time to time, but they were always fleeting. I have more important things to do. And not like I can somehow manage to feed every homeless child in the city to save them from a life of crime. That’s something for the government to figure out. I’ll only deal with them if they stray too far.

Averting his gaze from a group of children curiously watching them, Roland scanned the area again in the search of a specific figure.

Still no sign of him.

Once the fifteen minutes were up Arthur and Thomas returned. The former now sporting a look similar to Roland’s earlier one. Thomas instead was dripping wet, having somewhat successfully cooled his arms in the river.

The current early summer weather remained a bit chilly in the morning. Fortunately strong sunshine should dry him relatively quickly.

Looking at his dripping friends Roland let out a sigh, “Let’s go finish this before noon.”

“Yes sir,” Thomas saluted enthusiastically, whereas Arthur only gave a curt nod, already grabbing the next plank.

He better be here soon. Otherwise, I’ll stick Thomas on his sorry ass.

*

Halfway through the third layer, for the first time since they occupied it, a new figure entered the bridge. Fine linen shirt, well-kept dark pants and high-quality leather shoes. Medium length brownish hair and a face reminiscent of a snake. Or weasel depending on who you asked.

Two points made this well-dressed person drastically stand out. First was the jewelry. Silver earrings in the shape of stars, and most lavishly, a small wristwatch, usually something only nobles and affluent merchants could afford.

One would have to search extremely thoroughly to find a single complete piece of jewelry inside the slums, though shiny broken parts were abundant. It would be no exaggeration to say this person walked around with more wealth on their body than multiple families here owned combined.

The second standout point connected to the first, in the way that while seeing someone wearing kind of getup was rare in the first place, it was even rarer when the person in question looked so young.

Barely a fingers width taller than Roland, the final member of their group truly redefined how people would expect an orphan to look.

Stopping a couple of feet before his companions, Stephan greeted them enthusiastically with a sleazy grin, “Morning. Hard at work I see. How is it going, Monkey?”

“Stephan!” Thomas exclaimed excitedly. Hammer tossed aside he ran up to his friend, a goofy grin on his face.

“Arm up!” Stephan shouted, giving the approaching Thomas a resounding high five. The ensuing scream of pain from Thomas came as a surprise to both Stephan and the screamer in question, though Arthur and Roland just shook their heads in dismay.

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Seeing the wry expressions on the other’s faces, Stephan realized nothing bad had happened. It was simply another aspect of interacting with Thomas.

“Boss,” Stephan saluted to Roland, creating a comical sight due to their highly different clothing standards.

Bystanders might get the idea a noble servant had come to fetch his disguised master who hid himself within the common rabble. Of course any of those notions would be instantly destroyed upon taking a glance at Stephan’s face.

Narrow eyes, small nose and a mouth that seemed to be made for sneering. In a way it had to be highly practical if one’s appearance and personality fit so well together.

“Showing up right when the work is about to finish. Truly unmatched skills there, Stephan,” Arthur mocked provocatively, annoyed at having to wait so long for their fourth to show up.

The apparently late Stephan knew his way around people quite well however. Which led to him making the smartest move possible when Arthur tried to start something. Ignoring him completely. Big smile on his face he raised the small bag in his left hand instead, shaking it lightly.

“Got some nice fresh apples. Little bit of energy for our hard workers,” Stephan offered, taking an apple for himself, before presenting the bag to Roland.

“Maybe later. Let’s talk first,” Roland decided, ignoring the offered bag.

Turning towards Arthur, he told him, “You two can continue, but don’t overdo it.” Wouldn’t do to have Thomas nail his hand to the railing now that we are almost done.

“Sure, Boss. Take your time,” Arthur curtly replied, knowing the faster Stephan reported to their leader the sooner he’d get to know what was up himself.

Trying to hide his anticipation, Roland walked off towards a half-destroyed wall, away from any unwanted observers, motioning for Stephan to follow.

While the two walked over they heard an interesting conversation along the lines of ‘maybe trying one’ and ‘bottomless pit’ from behind them.

“You guys already ate,” Stephan declared more than asked.

“Chicken,” Roland affirmed briefly, not interested in small talk whatsoever.

The fact that he hasn’t gone on about his success yet means something did not work out. Question is what.

“I see,” Stephan replied, nodding his head thoughtfully, face split between regret and relief.

Dorothy’s chicken was something to look forward to. Alas the customer service their little group received could get somewhat intense. Not even mentioning the food’s presentation.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two until they reached their destination.

Roland waited for Stephan to start his report, gaze idly landing on the outer part of their little project. Seeing this side for the first time in all its glory, he couldn’t help click his tongue.

Stephan too took a look, not reacting in the slightest.

“Looks like shit,” Roland snorted, not mincing his words.

Stephan exhaled loudly, “Thank god, didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Seeing that you are in a joking mood I’m sure you have some good news for me,” Roland remarked, patience running low.

“Going to have to disappoint you there, Boss,” Stephan replied with a resigned look on his face. Life would be a lot more comfortable if it were possible to avoid a conversation for eternity. Alas Stephan did not have the ability to do that.

“Commander Grace won’t be writing a recommendation. Apparently when our two favorite little officers tried to suggest you for early academy admission, she threw them out of her office. Like literally. They looked like someone had violently tossed them down a flight of stairs.”

Fuck. Why now? Roland mentally cursed. “I thought this was basically a sure thing Stephan?” He somewhat accusingly asked.

“It should have been. After all, it is one of the Commander’s responsibilities to recommend talented individuals for the Academy,” Stephan answered, trying to convey as much frustration as possible. “And for all her years here she has never bothered to look for them herself. All past recommendations were introduced by her subordinates.”

“Don’t have to tell you again that basically every single one of those was bought by nobles,” Stephan added, shifty look on his face. “Not like some soldiers stationed in the sticks are going to bother running around testing kids for fun. Our bribes, if you can even consider them as such, are actually on the tamer side compared to what some of those fucked up nobles offered.”

“So why are their little shits enjoying themselves at the Academy, while I have to wait another year?” Roland asked, distaste apparent. For their own arguably shameful deeds that was.

“Lieutenant Edwin and his friend think it was because we were too obvious with our supply runs to the garrison. They believe the Commander realized what was going on and shut it down,” Stephan answered mockingly, himself not believing it one bit. “At least that’s what they told me.”

“Bad excuse,” came a swift judgment from Roland.

“Obviously,” Agreed Stephan. “If someone like me can find out about the bribes there is no way Commander Grace didn’t know.”

Scratching his head he continued, “There has to be a reason why she would oppose it this time, despite ignoring all the previous ones. But I’m sorry, can’t for the life of me think of one. And even though those two definitely know more than they let me know, there is no way they’ll risk anything after having been reprimanded.”

Teeth gritted in frustration Roland had his fears confirmed as all their work came tumbling down around him. And once again nobody bothered to tell him why things had to be this way. Why he needed to struggle for things others received on silver platters.

“This can’t be all of it Stephan. So much time and effort wasted, and we’ll walk away with nothing to show for it?” Roland hoped for Stephan to give him some good tidings.

“Well, the Officers told me they would like to pay for the stuff we gave them. Probably scared of the Commander chewing them out again if we make more a fuss,” Stephan relayed the offer, which despite sounding like good news, was really not that convenient.

Roland almost burst into laughter. “Do we look like merchants to them? Little two-man caravan making its way to the garrison for chump change.” Actual anger rose in Roland for the first time since the conversation started. Though it quickly fizzled away, being of no use to him.

Stephan already expected his Boss’s reaction and tried to appease the latter, “I do believe we could possibly make quite a hefty sum from them, but I also agree it wouldn’t be of much benefit. Overall, the currency of goodwill and favors is much more practical, seeing that we did not have any monetary problems in a long time now. Which is why I asked them to come up with something else to repay us.”

The offhanded mention of their stable financial situation might appear innocent at first glance. His sketchy companion’s self-satisfied expression on the other hand left Roland no doubts about the fact that it was actually an indirect brag on Stephan’s part, him being the one who managed their finances in the first place. Can’t argue with results, so I’ll let him have this one.

“And?” Roland urged his reluctant messenger to continue, not expecting much but hoping nonetheless.

“Training sessions for you and Arthur…” Stephan started, making his leader raise a brow in surprise at the generous offer.

“… during the monthly public training,” he finished, eyes averted from the less than enthused Roland.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t that sound a lot like giving us something we would get anyway?” Roland asked, filled disappointment.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Stephan agreed. “Usually only two Knights and a dozen or so regular soldiers come for the public training. But for the rest of the year either one of the two is going to tag along as well and help you guys out. It’s laughably little effort on their part and they’ll probably even get commended for the extra work. Still not that bad of a deal, they are real Knights after all, even if they don’t act like ones.”

Done relaying the offer, Stephan waited for his leader to make a decision.

The latter closed his eyes in deep thought. I don’t want to waste another year, but looks like it wasn’t meant to be. His fist clenched tightly. Let’s hope Arthur actually listens to me. I can’t have him wait a whole year. It would be disastrous for his progress.

The question is what will we do when he actually leaves? Roland’s eyes opened abruptly, the sun blinding him as he saw a lean silhouette in his mind’s eye.

I talked big about our plans during today’s enormous breakfast, let’s see if things will work out with Claire. If she ends up flaking after things get more serious, I’ll have to consider less pleasing alternatives.

Forward. A sudden calm came over Roland when he realized that there was no point in obsessing over the future. Eyes clear, with an empty expression, he told Stephan about his decision, “The training sessions should prove useful in the long run.”

Stephan nodded, tension running through him upon seeing Roland’s unfocused gaze.

“As previously planned, we’ll accept the little miss into our group now,” Roland continued, some emotions returning to his face. “You make sure everything is on track for Arthur to leave when enrollment starts.”

Stephan let out a relieved breath, like someone having barely avoided a catastrophe, before interjecting, “He is not going to like any of that.”

“True, which is why I will tell Claire she should build a good rapport with Arthur before he leaves,” Roland revealed his scheme, small smile showing. Less time to mope around if that bundle of energy is pestering him. And if she manages to get his approval It’ll make things easier for the transition.

An involuntary snort came out of Stephan upon imagining the scene, “Ought to be a fun scene.”

Expression turning unsure he nevertheless continued, too concerned with future consequences to worry about present ones.

“Boss, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this. We can’t use her to get to Commander Grace. No matter how much he likes our little activities, if the City Lord finds out we used his daughter's goodwill for our personal benefit he’ll freaking strip us naked and hang us from the city walls.”

“I’m not stupid. The Commander’s recommendation is officially dead,” Roland declared straightforwardly. “I have better things to do than chase something in vain.” No matter how much I want it.

Stephan blinked his eyes in surprise, before happily exclaiming, “Yes! That’s the attitude I’ve always admired. What’s done is done, no use crying over spilled milk.”

Realizing he was being much too enthusiastic, Stephan briefly cleared his throat, continuing in a more subdued manner, “So I’ll tell those two we accepted their offer, and we’ll see how useful they end up being.”

Of course, you are happy about another year of enjoying yourself in the Backstreets. Instead of having to slave away building new connections in the Capital. Getting a bit too comfortable for my liking.

“We’ll finish the work here and keep an eye on the bridge in shifts afterwards. I’ll have Arthur find you should something come up,” Roland dismissed Stephan, before waiting quietly, giving his sneaky companion one last chance.

You know what’s best for serious matters, why can’t you fix that nasty habit of cutting corners on the small things.

“Later, Boss,” Stephan gave his leader a quick mock salute, relieved to be done being the deliverer of bad news. Leaving happily, he hummed the tune of a popular tavern song.

“Stephan,” Roland called out from behind.

Surprised, as he thought they were done, Stephan turned around slowly.

“When are you going to tell them we accepted their offer?” Roland inquired flatly.

Gears turning at unimaginable speed, Stephan's face seemed to be frozen in time for a second, frantically deciding which way to go.

“I’ll send one of my boys there later,” Stephan ultimately replied.

“I’m not sure about that,” Roland objected, seemingly concerned about something. “Today's’ weather is pretty bad. I feel worried about someone so young making the trip. You know?”

“Makes sense,” Stephan agreed reluctantly, looking at the clear blue sky with a pitiful expression.

“You should go yourself,” Roland suggested. “Or if you believe the officers somehow managed to pick up on my approval from ten miles away, then you can help out here instead for a bit.”

Weighing a worthless, arduous trek over some muscle work right on site, Stephan picked what he believed to be the easier one. After factoring in his leader’s current mood.

“Now that I think back on it,” Stephan contemplated, looking like he had suddenly remembered something important. “I may have made them believe we would definitely accept their offer, because it was without doubt the way to go. So, it seems like I’ll get to help you guys on the bridge for a bit.”

“Efficient as always, Stephan,” Roland muttered, long past emotions like disappointment when it came to this resourceful friend of his.

“Well, you know me, Boss. That’s just how I am,” Stephan tried his hands at some light humor, a wretched smile on his face.

“True, so why don’t you go help Thomas and Arthur just as efficiently,” Roland finished their conversation, voice ice cold. Little fucker.

“Yes, sir,” Stephan accepted his punishment.

As he marched back to their other companions no salute was to be seen, and their surroundings were also spared any off-tune songs.