Doran slumped in the cushioned chair behind the desk in his public office. Sighing, he leaned his head against the headrest and massaged his temples. For the fourth consecutive fortnight, his tavern, the front for the Thieves Guild in Crey, ended up in the red. Once again, he would be forced to use his 'personal' funds, or rather, the Thieves Guild profits set aside for the purpose of keeping the establishment afloat, to rectify the issue. Perhaps he would need to give in and add the questionable entertainment services his nephew consistently urged him to bring in.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he muttered, “No, I can't do that... I can't give in.” Suddenly, several knocks on his office door interrupted his brooding. In response, he straightened his posture, adopted a stern, professional expression, and called out, “You may enter.”
The door swung open and a large man walked through. He looked rather worn out. As soon as Doran recognized the man, he dropped the professional attitude and said, “Haven't seen you for a while Ekram. How've you been?”
“Not bad,” the mercenary troupe leader replied. “Picked up a couple decent recruits since we last spoke, including a possible addition I believe you are acquainted with.”
“Oh?”
“Does the name Liam ring any bells for you?”
Unsurprised, considering he already knew about Liam traveling with the Blue Vultures, Doran answered, “Yeah, I met him. Made a deal with him, actually. He's a rather interesting person.”
“Oh, no wonder he seemed slightly on guard when I mentioned you. He certainly did a good job of concealing the fact, though,” Ekram said while eyeing all the new trinkets sitting on a nearby shelf that were not there during his last visit almost two years earlier.
“I'm fairly sure he won't join you officially. He's got some other priorities that are, in my personal opinion, much more important than mercenary work,” Doran said. Then, before Ekram could inquire any further, he added, “I'm not at liberty to discuss the details.”
Ekram raised a brow, but nodded, accepting the man's silence. Moving on, he asked, “I think he could be helpful toward our goals.”
“Perhaps.”
“You don't sound convinced.”
“No. He's... how do I put this? Erm... he's somewhat unpredictable, but I think he'll play a part in future events whether we try to involve him or not.”
“Best to get him on our side, then.”
“Or the other way around,” Doran thoughtfully said. “After all, I'm fairly sure he's a Traveler.”
“I had a feeling he was,” Ekram replied offhandedly while studying a strange machination similar to a globe. “Do you think he's trustworthy, then?”
“I think he's more of the type that we could trust him so long as being our ally is in his best interests.”
“If that's the case, I guess I'll let him be an honorary member in exchange for teaching my younger guys how to handle hand-to-hand combat or something. Hmm... considering how strong he is, it really makes me wonder if he's been here since the last Migration...”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“I doubt it. His knowledge of basic things common to you or me is almost nonexistent. My network picked up some noteworthy evidence that there is at least one other person advancing as quickly as Liam who showed up out of nowhere within the last few weeks as well.”
“Man... The next few years are going to become really chaotic. Speaking of which,” Ekram set down a carving he had been admiring and focused on Doran, “the Zhulisians invaded Azgara while we were there, in case you hadn't heard yet.”
Groaning, Doran pinched the bridge of his nose again. Of course some world-changing event would transpire during some of the most crucial years of their plans. Worst of all, his tavern was still in the red. Genuinely upset, he frowned and muttered, “I'll start relocating resources, then...”
* * * * *
Footsteps echoed off the marble walls of the great hall leading to the office of Crey’s magistrate. A variety of merediem crystals sat on sconces merged into walls at even increments. Neither Iloryn nor Luna felt particularly comfortable about the idea of using such valuable stones for lighting. Other than the two of them, a few others, both familiar and unfamiliar, traipsed through the large government building. Across the hall, an accountant whisked by in the opposite direction carrying a stack of parchments. Further down, a servant, or perhaps a well-dressed slave, pushed a cart topped with pastries and tea. He stopped at each door to see if the occupants desired any of the refreshments.
Practically ignoring everyone else, Iloryn and Luna hasted toward the overly extravagant double doors at the end of the hallway. Foregoing the normal courtesy of knocking, Iloryn shoved the doors open and basically barged in. Luna reached out too slowly to stop her friend and ended up with an arm fruitlessly hanging in the air. Sighing, she lowered it and stepped into the room as well.
Right when the door swung open, a loud thud sounded out from below the magistrate’s desk. A pained whimper followed. Considering the magistrate himself, a lanky man pampered to the point of looking almost feminine except for his curled mustache, was sitting on his chair unperturbed. Both women immediately grimaced. Their suspicions were confirmed when the man lowered his gaze, waved his fingers, and commanded, “Come on. Up you go.”
A moment later, a girl barely old enough to be called a woman crawled out from below the desk. She moved rather slowly due to an obvious attempt at fixing the upper half of her shabby dress and wiping the fluids from around her mouth. Briefly, she started walking away with her head shamefully lowered. To her dismay, as well as Iloryn’s and Luna’s, the magistrate raised a hand and ordered her to stop. The young woman nodded hesitantly and stood behind him, visibly upset by the situation and her lot in life. Her eyes reddened and she nearly broke into tears but forcibly held it in after a brief glance at the magistrate.
How distasteful… Iloryn thought, grimacing at the man.
Noticing the upset expressions on the faces of his guests, the magistrate said, “The art of knocking exists exactly for situations like this one. After all, you never know what is happening beyond closed doors. Now, onto business… I assume Lady Luna is here to report on her errand, but I must say I am rather surprised to see you back so soon, Lady Iloryn.”
“I can’t say I’m all too pleased to return so soon, Lord Herrod,” Iloryn replied, briefly glancing at the slave girl in pity. “However, we bring bad tidings from Azgara.”
“Go on.”
“An invading Zhulisian force took the city a few days ago, and now Crey is likely in danger as well. Also, I will have to temporarily delay our business deal due to the loss of the city.”
In response, Herrod’s forehead wrinkled and his teeth ground together. A twinkle of fear flashed through his normally emotionless gray eyes. Within moments, he suppressed his emotions and said, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll begin writing out the necessary orders. You may both take your leave.”
“Sir-” Luna began to say, only to be cut off by Herrod saying, “You too.”
The magistrate’s eyes simmered with all the emotions he tried to suppress. Lips pressed tightly together, Luna nodded reluctantly and followed her friend back into the hallway, shutting the doors behind her without looking back.