I brought Christen to a small, dingy pub. It didn't even have a real name, it was known only as “That pub off the crossroads.” if anyone was asked about the location of this bar by guards or any kingdom authority figure, then they had never heard about it, and didn't know how to get there. It was a good place to get in touch with people smuggling poisons or strange weapons, a good place to find assassins for hire and thieves, and the odd whore. Though there was a brothel nearer to the center of the city, outside the slums along the edge of the city walls, that the kingdom's officals simply choose to ignore, at least on a legal level. That was more of a higher class brothel.

“This look like a-”

“It's a slummy pub.” I said. “Far dirtier than the one you worked at, far nastier, with less kindly people.” I looked around and saw a few of the men leering towards her. “Perhaps you should keep your hood up?”

Christen nodded and lifted the hood of her brown cloak over her head.

I pulled her over to a small table in the corner. One of the barmaid, a woman who I knew as Ginger came over with a pitcher of ale. “Is this all for tonight, Stiri?” She said, more breathing my name than saying it. She gave her lower lip a small bit.

“For tonight, this is fine.” I muttered, pouring myself a drink. Ginger shrugged and walked off. Christen peered at me from under her hood.

“A whore.” I said, “Thought not the kind nobles get involved with. I heard last time a noble tried to hire her, she castrated and robbed him.” I poured a tankard of ale for Christen. “Drink?”

Christen took the ale from me and took a smal sip. “So. Who paid you to kill my father?”

“Had your father ever mentioned someone by the name of Lord Necanda?”

“No.”

“Didn't think he would. That's who hired me. He and your father had some bad business in their past.” I looked around. It was safe to speak a little here. The place was crowded and noisy. Wenches ran about serving drunken men and whores. The door opened, and a group of women walked in wearing close fitting hooded cloaks. Most of the men stared when they came in, myself included.

“Where do I find him.”

“Hmm?”

“Necanda... where do I.. Stiri!”

I turned quickly. “Be quiet!” I snapped. I turned my back on the newcomers. “What were you saying?”

“Necanda. Where do I find him?”

“Why. Do you intend to kill him?”

“Yes, you know that.”

I took a drink from my tankard. “That's what you say. I doubt that you'll do it. Even if you do manage to get there, Necanda will likely just kill you. He's not useless with a sword.”

“I will kill him. You will take me to him.”

“I will now?”

“Yes. You see, I admit, I have been sheltered my entire life, and though I dreamt of leaving home, my knowledge of places is poor. I knew where the capital was, and where Artis was. My father used to order fine glass from there....” Her voice trailed off.

“If you cry, I'm leaving.” I said. She glared at me.

“I went there because I knew where it was... but it was destroyed. I was lucky that you were there, otherwise, I wouldn't know what to do next. I've been very lucky. I don't know that I can leave the capital, or well traveled roads. For that, I need you.”

“Why do you think I would help you?” I asked.

“I'll pay.”

I finished my tankard. “You're logic is irrefutable. Ok, I'll help. However, it's a few days travel from Necanda's castle... I'll need supplies. One hundred silver for his head?”

“Fifty for bringing me to him. It is my duty as the daughter of Lord Whyte to avenge him myself.”

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“You won't do it, but whatever you say.” I finished drinking my tankard and set it down on the table.

Christen was just learning to tolerate the bitter ale when a man by the name of Rick sat down. Christen yelped and choked on her ale. Which wasn't surprising. Rick was an interesting person to say the least- and that's just looking at the man! He used to be master thief many many years ago. However, he had been caught trying to steal from the castle's treasury. He got out only after losing an eye, a hand, a thumb off his other hand, and by dropping a few names and locations to the guards. Lets just say that there was another pub similar to this one that no longer exists. No one really likes him, but he has a knack for getting information and hearing things he's not supposed to hear. Even some of the nobles know about it. He is how a lot of people like myself find out about jobs that the higher class needs done. There is a risk involved with so much as talking to this man, but if you know how to deal with him, then you're fine. I dealt with him by providing him with a nice new golden eyeball with a jewel encrusted iris, as well as an ivory hand and thumb.

“Greetings, Stiri.” He whispered. He had a hood up, so he wasn't all that conspicious at the moment, but you could clearly see his face, which was what scared Christen. She was still gawking at him when he set his hand, his ivory hand, on the table with a loud slamming. Christen paled as she stared at it.

“Hello Rick.” I said, “News?”

“Maybe some.” He looked closely at Christen, leering. “Whose this little tart?”

I saw Christen clench her fists. This wouldn't be good. “This is my new... assistant.” I said, “Christen, and she's likely to casturate you if you continue with your current line of thought.” Rick paled and looked quickly away from her. That was a low blow, because that was the next thing they were going to chop off him if he didn't give names. In reality, she might have just slapped him, but I didn't need that either. Besides, threat of a slap wouldn't have stopped Rick. “Christen, this is Rick, he's one of my informants.”

“Informants?”

“Yes.” I said. I took a drink. “I don't go door to door asking people if there's someone I can kill for them, and it's rather difficult to advertise being an assassin. So I have people like him keep and ear out for me. He hears things.”

“I do, and I've heard a something for you today!”

“Do tell!” I said, smirking. That was one of the things I really liked about Rick. Little to no small-talk, just right to the point. Easy person to deal with.

He leaned forward. Christen leaned in to listen, but given that I had just introduced her as my assistant, I decided it would be a stupid idea to shove her off.

“Lady by the name of Grisly.” He said, “Big fat woman, wears lots of colorful clothing, wigs, jewels... you know the type.” I nodded. I knew and loathed the type. “Her husbands having an affair.”

Christen gave him a horrified look. I shrugged. “What does she want then?”

“The same. Mistress murdered, Husband killed through an accident.”

“Of course.” I said.

“There is one thing.” he said softly. “The mistress... Well, I've never seen her, but I've heard she has something to do with the king. Some underling, I think. But that might make it more difficult. Maybe, maybe not.”

“Well, if that's all of it, tell Lady Gris-”

“There's one more thing you should know.” He said, “If the king is involved for some reason.”

“What?”

“Well, the kings been knows to research strange magics, correct?”

“Of course. I guess it's part of his job, strange magics exist in his kingdom, it might help him to know a little about it. Have an advisor, or-”

“He does have an advisor.” he said, “A Magus.”

“So?”

“Lord Grisly is a researcher, whose refused to work with the king these last few years, and I've heard he's good. He can discover the innermost secrets of any well disguised magical trinket, or any hidden spell. If the king wants him, he might not like it if he's killed.”

“I'll bear that in mind.” I said.

Rick nodded. “Lady Grisly would like it done as soon as possible. Before any of her friends find out about hes husbands infidelity, ya know?”

“I understand. A delicate matter to be sure.”

Rick nodded. “I'll let her know tomorrow that I've found someone for her. You can send your... Ahem, Assistant over to pick up your fee. She knows where the husband dissapears to meet his mistress, so I'll have that for you too. An easy job, so little work, all you have to do is kill the louse.

“Much easier than that bard you set me up for.” I muttered. I turned to Christen. “Some bard was writing filthy lyrics about a noble. The noble hired me, and I had to track the bard down though every pub in town. It took six days.”

“Yup, that's Stiri.” Rick said. He finished his own drink. “Why, I don't even think old Almond could have had the patience for that.”

I took a long drink, finishing my tankard. “Help yourself to the rest.” I muttered, it didn't mater to me, I had lots of wine in my caravan. I took out a few coins and set them on the table for Rick. As I stoop up and fixed my cloak, I said, “Here's a bit of information you can tell your businessman friends; Artis is destroyed.

Rick froze a moment, his hand shaking on the table. “Any survivors?”

“There might be. I don't know.” I stood up from the table. “It'll become public knowledge soon. I suggest in the meantime you tell any merchants paying you for information not to send anyone that way....Unless they think they can sell ashes here.” I turned to leave, I had what I needed

“Stiri.”

I turned. Rick was looking at me, his hood pulled down. His grayed hair was like a fog around his wrinkled head. His own real pale green eye was distorted with concern. “There is a man in Artis...His name is Janace... Do you know if he..”

“...I know him. I think his part of town was one of the first to catch fire.”

Rick clenched both his fists on the table, and stared into his mug. “Old friend?” I asked.

“...He was my little brother. We hadn't spoken in... Many years.”

I turned and left, followed closely by a still silent Christen. What was I supposed to say to that?