Moving through the city streets at night was an unfamiliar experience. SJ’s previous night’s flight had only witnessed a small proportion of the unsettled nature of the outer districts compared to what happened. Although most shops were closed, several remained open, with a simple difference that hired hands stood by their doorways. Shouts and calls of many who frequented the multitude of bars in the city replaced traders’ calls. Scuffles and fights broke out, and district guards appeared to break up several of them as they passed.

“Is it always like this?”

“We are still in a quieter area,” Jay replied. “Wait until we reach District 9.”

On leaving Cristy, they had travelled back towards the inner wall and circled it on a wide-open street. The lack of buildings beside the wall clearly separated the inner and outer city areas. Several wagons or carts were still moving along the street, and drivers shouted for pedestrians to get out of their way. There were no traffic rules, and it was first come, first served when moving across junctions.

The streets reminded SJ of a medieval version of London. The day trading and noise of commerce were replaced with the release of steam associated with visiting bars and inns. Others approached beings walking along the street, trying to entice them into the inns and signalling for business. A scrawled sign outside one inn advertising ‘buy two tankards, get your third free’. The similarity of advertisement to capture punters was no different. Flickering lantern light provided the only light as the night skies had darkened.

“Why didn’t you go through the inner city? Wouldn’t it have been quicker and easier?”

“Quicker, yes. Easier, no. Each district has a gate, and the one to District 9 is closed at night. There have been issues in the past that have spread into the inner city, and ever since, the gate has been locked from 20:00 until 04:00 each night. As I say, District 9 is the most violent area of the city.”

“I thought District 3 was the worst?”

“Living conditions, yes. Because of the number of poor who live there but not for violence. It is quite calm. District 9 is where many of the Guild headquarters are. It is one of the richer district areas, and many Legionnaires, live or stay there.”

“If it is home to many guild headquarters, why is there so much violence then?”

“Rivalry. There are always guilds that are at war with each other. Regularly, murders occur between opposing guilds.”

Frowning, the comment about the guilds confused SJ. “I thought guilds were places to grow and develop?”

“They are supposed to be. The problem is that there are so many guilds now that many fight for the rights to specific quest chains. If they remove the competition, then they have free choice. Guilds’ money from quests is massive if they gain exclusivity. Several quest chains hold vast rewards, which can set a guild up for years if completed.”

SJ had always known about guild wars, having read fantasy books and played games, but hearing that they were a key factor of success was worrying. Maybe her thoughts about creating a guild in Killic were a bad idea after all. Zigferd’s reaction made it obvious he was not very supportive of the idea, and hearing Jay talk about the guilds explained why.

SJ could not see any definitive line that separated districts from each other, and it appeared that certain districts might branch outside their expected boundaries. The buildings were all varied, no two alike. Some were elaborate in appearance, others drab and plain. Listening to the voices of those on the street, many spoke in their language, not the common tongue. A group of goblins moved down the street, singing in their tongue. SJ noticed they all wore a blue tag on their sleeves.

“Who are they?”

“They call themselves the Marauders. They are a group of imbeciles. They are always trying to fight other gangs in the city and usually getting their asses handed to them each time. They are probably heading to District 5, where they fight with another goblin gang regularly.”

“Why does the guard do nothing about them?”

“They probably pay many of the guards off.”

“I saw a gang fight my first night here, and the guard came in and stopped them, arresting many.”

Shrugging, Jay replied, “They probably didn’t pay their bribes. The outer city runs on corruption. I know as I was part of it for long enough.”

“What made you move from being a fighter?”

Jay slumped slightly in the driver’s seat. “Love.”

Intrigued by his reply, SJ pushed for an explanation. “Love for who?”

“I was seeing a beautiful orc called Juniper. She had been watching me fight frequently, and one night after a match, she came to my room to introduce herself. I stupidly fell for her straight away. We got together, and after a few weeks, she asked me to stop fighting, as she could no longer see me get injured.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“It was all a scam. I didn’t know at the time she was Gasgut’s cousin. He is a lead fight promoter, one I had refused to work for before because he undercut the fight purse. I ended up paying off my promoter to release myself from the contract I was under. It cost me nearly everything I had earned to buy my freedom, and as soon as I did, Juniper changed. She was always busy and never available to meet, and then one night, when I watched a long-standing grudge match between Bathlor and Whendle, I saw her sit next to Gasgut.”

Jay’s face changed as he spoke, and his anger became clearer as he continued. “I went to speak to her, and that was when I found out Gasgut was her cousin. He had deliberately asked her to get me out of the fight scene because he had been worried about my progress and didn’t want me to fight in the annual championship.”

“Why didn’t you just start fighting again?”

“Because I let my anger get the better of me. I attacked him and, by doing so, broke his back. Gasgut ended up paralysed due to me.”

“Could he not be healed?”

“That sort of healing costs hundreds of gold. Even the richest in the districts would struggle to find that sort of coin. Also, injuries like that, if not healed quickly, can lead to long-term problems. He could not walk unaided by the time he was eventually healed.”

“Why did that stop you fighting, though?”

“No promoter would take me. The threat of losing my temper meant I was shunned. Anger in the ring is one thing. Fighting outside of the ring by a professional fighter is frowned upon even in the districts.”

“So no one would back you?”

“No, and without a promoter, you can’t fight in the circuit.”

“I thought you said it was underground?”

“Ha. It is, but it also has rules, which I broke.”

“What made you become a fighter?”

“I had always been one of the best in the clan in my youth, and when I got my class choice, I chose brawler. It just seemed to make sense. There was not much to do in the clan territory apart from fight. Usually against the ogres or trolls.”

“I didn’t know brawler was even a class choice?”

“Class choices for Amathereans differ from Legionnaires,” Dave said.

‘You have never mentioned that before?’

“Few Legionnaires ever discuss the personal history of an Amatherean. Multiple choices are open to most classes; as Legionnaires, you choose your overarching class and then specialise through skill trees. Many Amathereans select their class based on a specialisation rather than a class title. Brawlers sit under the fighter class.”

“Brawler, sword master, shield warden, spear master. They are all fighter classes.” Jay said.

“So, you are a fighter?”

“Yes. However, I have never fought with a weapon. I have no skills in any of them.”

“Could you still not learn?”

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t get any bonuses associated with their use. Fighters who specialise in swords, for example, will develop their sword tree and weapon proficiency.”

SJ frowned, considering her own weapons’ specialisation. SJ knew she had chosen her claws as her initial weapon, but she could expand and change weapons if she wished.

“Legionnaires have more freedom of choice,” Dave said, reading her thoughts.

“We are nearly there,” Jay said.

SJ had been so engrossed in the conversation with Jay that she hadn’t noticed their surroundings. The street they now travelled was wider than most, and many of the building’s facias were more ornate than those she had seen. Their size was also significantly larger. Several had large placards or signs with various names hanging in front of them.

“I guess many of these are guild buildings?”

“Yes. That one there,” Jay pointed to a green-fronted building, “is the Foresters. They are one of the city’s more prominent and wealthy guilds.”

The building was four storeys with large windows looking out onto the street. The lights lit the entrance, appearing magical rather than the usual lantern light. Several beings came and went from it, even at this late an hour. They looked well dressed and equipped with the look of adventurers.

“I guess many are Legionnaires?”

“Yes. This district has the highest proportion of Legionnaires in the entire city.”

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“How do you know?”

“The wealth they flaunt mainly. Amathereans are unlikely to spend as much money or have the money to equip themselves in the way they do. Some do, but they are rare in comparison. My uncle was an adventurer and a guild member of a town guild. It was not like here in Asterfal. Here, they will accept quests and sometimes travel for weeks to complete them. Many of them are dungeoneers. That’s where they make their money.”

“There isn’t a dungeon here, is there?”

Jay turned and frowned at SJ. “Yes. There is a dungeon in Asterfal.”

SJ did not know there was a dungeon in the city, and the comment took her by surprise. She felt elated at the possibility of attempting a dungeon run.

“Can anyone access it?”

“No. Only guild members of certain guilds. That causes many of the fights. Only the top twenty may enter it. It’s one reason for the continual friction.”

“Do you know what level it is?”

“I believe it is thirty. I am not sure it’s not something I have ever considered.”

‘Damn,’ she thought.

“A dungeon being in the city explains a bit more about the place,” Dave said.

‘Did you not know?’

“No. I would have told you otherwise.”

‘Doesn’t it show on maps?’

“Dungeon locations never show on maps. Many are kept secret once discovered.”

‘Level 30. I have a long way to go before considering it.’

“At least we now know one exists here. I am surprised Zigferd hadn’t mentioned it.”

‘I think that for all the times Zigferd has been in Asterfal, I don’t think he gets out of the inner city much, if at all.’

“Here we are,” Jay said, pulling up outside an open area between two buildings. It was strange seeing an open space after the close-knit buildings. The area in front of the building stretched over a hundred feet, and outside were tables and benches where many patrons sat drinking and laughing. A huge, vicious-looking black gryphon flew on a flag from a pole at the entrance, guarded by two enormous trolls. The building was large, its front over one hundred feet wide and three storeys high.

“Let’s park the cart, and I will take you in.”

Continuing past the Black Griffin, Jay tied the horse off after finding a space in front of a building with a free post where several carts were parked along the roadside. Patting its neck and feeding it an apple from his inventory. “Be back soon,” he said. The horse neighed in response.

“Let me do the talking,” Jay said as SJ walked to the entrance.

The two enormous trolls were easily twelve feet tall and towered over Jay, never mind SJ. They looked mean, covered in scaring, and both had cracked tusks.

One of them noticed Jay approaching. “Jay, what are you doing here? Gasgut won’t be happy to see you.”

“You think I care what that two-faced bugbear lover has to say?”

It still amazed SJ the racial slurs the different races used about each other when speaking to others.

“Who's this?”

“She is with me. I am showing her the delights of the city.”

“And you brought her here. Not the best place for a date.”

“This isn’t a date. It’s business.”

“You back in the fight game? Be good to see you back in the cage.”

“Not this time, no. Other business.”

“Shame. Go in. No trouble, and you know what happens.”

“Yeah. Yeah. This ain’t my first time.”

The troll chuckled as Jay walked between them.

“Pleasant fellows,” SJ said sarcastically.

“They are useless fighters. Good for clearing patrons. Put them in a ring with a brawler, and anyone worth half his purse would rip them a new one.”

The clientele of the Black Griffin was the most eclectic group of beings SJ had ever seen. She didn’t recognise several races amongst the crowds that filled the front bar area. The tables were busy, and servers worked skilfully between them, serving tankards of ale and other drinks. Tobacco smoke hung heavy in the air, alongside the stench of stale ale and sweaty bodies. SJ couldn’t see many females interspersed in the crowd.

“This way,” Jay said as he walked towards the far right of the bar, which had an arched door. SJ scanned the bar, looking for any signs of Carlito. Knowing that the dragonling could be any of the beings here sent her nerves on edge.

As SJ weaved through the tables, someone suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly. Turning to see a very drunken elf, his eyes bloodshot and his speech slurred when he spoke. “Hello, pretty. You fancy a drink?”

SJ pulled her arm away from its grasp. “Sorry. No thanks,” she said as she turned and continued following Jay.

“Oi. Come back here!” the elf said, going to stand.

SJ hadn’t noticed Jay move, but he was now in front of her.

“She said no,” Jay stood looking down at the elf menacingly.

The elf’s face screwed up, and he squinted as he tried to focus. “Don’t I recognise you?”

“Doubt it.”

“I do. You’re that orc. The one that was banned,” the elf replied, swaying where he now stood.

A few of the patrons, noticing the disturbance, watched intently.

“If you recognise me, then you have seen me fight and know what I am capable of, so when I say the lady says no, I mean it,” he snarled his response.

“It is you. The scumbag orc who attacked old Gasgut.”

Jay closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. Opening them again, he turned, ignoring the jibe from the elf.

“Come on,” Jay said, heading back towards the arch.

A large bugbear stood at the archway entrance.

“Ruffle,” Jay said, nodding to acknowledge the bugbear.

“Jay. What brings you back here? Haven’t seen you in months.”

“More like years now,” Jay sighed. “I am looking for someone for my friend here. Do you mind if I go to the cages?”

The bugbear gave SJ a once-over before shrugging. “I don’t mind. Just be warned, Gasgut is in tonight. There is a gladiator fight later tonight. Many of the big names are here.”

“Oh great. Of all the nights to choose.” Jay said, grimacing.

“Be careful” Ruffle replied.

The archway led to a long corridor that sloped down. Lanterns lit the walls, and as they followed it, the shouts and yells of a crowd could be heard. Reaching the end of the corridor, it opened into an enormous room. The entire room was set out like the coliseum. Tiered seating surrounded the walls, and a large open-topped cage stood in the centre. The cage must have been fifty feet square. In the cage, a gnoll and a kobold fought. Neither had weapons, and they lay into each other like there was no tomorrow. The fighting was brutal, and SJ couldn’t help but watch. Anything went as long as it didn’t involve a weapon; SJ watched the kobold bite down viciously onto the gnoll’s shoulder, who had picked it up in a bearhug. The gnoll released the kobold, who moved back out of its reach.

Jay paid no attention to the fight as he walked around the edge of the room, heading towards a corridor that led off to one side. SJ followed, glancing back at the fight as she did.

“Henry,” Jay said on reaching the corridor. A tall, muscular man turned at hearing his name, smiling as he recognised Jay, his broad arms folded across his chest. He wore an eye patch over his left eye and had a vicious-looking scar down the left side of his face.

“Jayzerab. How have you been?” the smile was genuine.

“Well, my old friend.”

“What brings you to the Griffin?”

“I am looking for a gnoll. Brought in today. Will be one of the sharks, probably.”

Henry frowned. “There are several new ones. It seems they were collected for the gladiator’ bout.”

“Do you mind if I go look for him?”

“Lenny is with them. Watch yourself.”

“You know me, Henry. Never one to cross a line,” Jay chuckled.

Henry laughed in response. “No issues. I don’t want to come and deal with you.”

“Understood.”

As SJ went to follow, Henry put his arm in front of her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

SJ looked at the big man, smiling sweetly. “With him.”

“Entrance to the tunnel is restricted to fighters or promoters only.”

“What says I am not a fighter?”

Henry scoffed at her comment. “Look, little lady. I mean no disrespect, but you would be eaten alive in the cage.”

“Looks can be deceptive. She took out Quiller’s boys single-handedly,” Jay said.

Henry raised an eyebrow at Jay’s comment. “Really?”

“I didn’t need to do a thing. She is feisty.”

SJ frowned at Jay’s comment, not happy with being called feisty. Looking back at Henry, smiling again. “I am here to look at promoting.”

“And who would you be promoting?”

“You just let him through.”

‎