Feeling defeated, Raylas decided resupplying was not the best option. He would be in town for at least a week so there should be no hurry.

He quickly moved back through the streets toward the Tavern. The feeling of being watched continued the entire time, though seeing how the townsfolk glanced at him he now assumed they were the main culprit.

My the Twelve, they saw him make that blunder too. He was going to be known as the fool who got swindled by the blacksmith before sundown.

He couldn’t face the people so he peered at the sky as he moved. There were large billowing clouds dotting the azure stretch. The occasional spec moved almost too far to notice, just barely specs which moved across to the far horizon.

Raylas took in a breath, the smell of fresh baked bread and pastries seemed to float around him. There was also the bitter smell of some concoction being used by a tanner, and an electric like smell from an alchemy hut. Though, from what he observed it was more of an herbalist than a true alchemist.

The chattering of the market street felt soothing after the tense silence of the road. It was the feeling of life and movement. He had walked through too many bloody fields and smelled the decay of death far too often. Perhaps he should give up the sword and find a new trade? Would someone even take in a middle aged man like him?

His joke made him cough a laugh. The calming aspects of the town helped raise his spirits, though the knowledge of his blunder still made him cringe. But that was just a silver. He could earn another in around half a year of successful work, or if he survived an especially dangerous one.

Or if he robbed a rich merchant. Raiding the wreckage was very profi–

He dismissed that thought instantly. He was no bandit. He would never be a bandit. He would rather just run into the forest and become feed for wolves before abandoning his humanity like them. At least dying to the beasts was a natural death instead of dying by trying to take was wasn’t rightfully yours.

“Are you lost, sir?” a quiet voice piped up.

Raylas looked down at a girl, just barely higher than his waist. She was holding a basket of ingredients, clutching it closely like she thought he’d take it.

“I am fine, girl,” Raylas chuckled. “Just thinking a bit too deeply, it seems.” He rustled her hair and peered around.

The chatter had quieted slightly and a number of people were either searching the sky nervously or staring at him. He realized he stopped moving down the street and had been standing in one spot for a while, his eyes gazing into the sky.

“There must be a lot of hard thoughts to go through for an important person like you,” the girl said.

“I am no important person,” Raylas burst out laughing. “I am just a lowly mercen–” He froze. He was no longer a mercenary. He quit the group. He had no ties or home to return to. He was just a lowly fighter who would probably die in a ditch, by beast or blade. It was a sobering thought.

“I am just a lowly wandering warrior,” he concluded.

The girl observed him for a few moments before he patted her shoulders and started off down the street again. The townsfolk who were staring at the sky appeared relieved, and the rest held smiles of their own.

He decided to focus on his trek and soon arrived outside the Sunnyside Inn. When he entered there were a couple customers sitting at the tables along with Dave managing the counter.

“Welcome back, Raylas,” Dave cheered. The other customers went silent and stared at him.

Raylas gave them a respectful nod and headed for the counter. The quiet conversation of the other patrons picked back up as Raylas leaned against the bar and sighed.

“Bad news I take it?” Dave inquired.

“Week for repairs to my equipment,” Raylas admitted. “Can’t exactly travel without protection, so I am here for an entire blasted week.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Dave pouted teasingly.

“A week with no ale is no less than torture,” Raylas sighed. “Just throw me in jail already.”

Dave whistled and laughed. “Aye, I can see how that would be tough. But you can’t deny our water is as refreshing as they get. Fresh from a forest spring, it is.”

Raylas tilted his head. The conversation in the tavern quieted again, but this time the customers were glaring angrily at Dave.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Shut yourself,” one man growled.

Dave visibly shrank down and took a mug to start polishing it.

“We have good water, that's all I’m saying.”

“The forest spring?” Raylas asked.

“Damnit Dave,” the other patron spat. “Now he knows too much.”

“It isn’t a crime to deal with–”

Shut your face, Dave!” the first patron yelled. “Or do ya want an inquisition coming down here to ask ya some questions?”

Raylas looked between everyone who was clearly disturbed and upset. He was right, Dave was the worst person to keep a secret because he talked too much.

“Why is the town making deals with monsters,” Raylas asked.

“Now look at what you did!” Dave hissed. “If you just left it well enough alone he’d just think we found a good spring and not bartered with…” he gave Raylas a brief glance. “Monsters.”

“I have no qualms with your dealings,” Raylas said. “As long as you're not sacrificing travelers to appease some demon, I don't think dealing with certain monsters is inherently immoral. In fact I like to avoid the City of Towers and the Hero Hunters as much as the next person.”

“Crazy bastards, the lot of ‘em.”

The patron’s both agreed and drank their mugs, mimicking the motions of making a toast.

Dave sighed and set his mug down. “Alright, cats out of the bag now.” He gave Raylas a stern look. “You can’t share this info with anyone outside of the town. We needed to make the deal or this town couldn't exist. We needed this deal, you hear me.”

“I won’t tell a soul because I honestly don’t care about any of this,” Raylas dismissed with a wave. “Just give me one of those refreshing drinks you’re so proud of.”

Dave broke into a smile and dumped a mug into a bucket of water. Raylas took it and gulped it down. Like the day before it was extremely refreshing, making him feel revitalized and calmed.

“It's still missing that nice bitter bite,” Raylas sighed as he took another drink.

“That's fair, but I have some wine I made which is blessed by…” he quieted down into a whisper. “The monster.”

“Sim said no drinking period, not just no ale.”

“Damn,” Dave sighed. “No fun then.”

“But I’ll be willing to buy a bottle or two for the road,” Raylas offered. “Maybe a small keg of ale too. He only told me not to drink during my stay, so I’ll enjoy it while on the road.”

Dave’s smile grew and he pulled two wooden tabs and slid them to Raylas.

“Turn these in when you’re ready to get them. I’ll make sure the bottles are not only ready but also fresh from the barrel.”

Raylas laughed and dipped into his pouch. He checked the coins he pulled before setting them on the table.

“Speaking of, Sim said the room was free but I’d hate to impose for a week without paying. I got six copper for the week plus meals.”

Dave’s face scrunched like he bit a lemon. “Six for a week? There are seven days, and that’s just the room. Thirteen copper at the least!”

Raylas chuckled inwardly and decided to try the haggling game again. It ended up that the rooms would cost only eight copper for the week, which would include bath water. That water came from regular wells instead of whatever spring they spoke earlier about. The final offer from Raylas was an extra three copper for breakfast and lunch for both him and Sapphire. Dinner would cost extra because nobody knew what the hunters would bring in so meat might cost premium.

Both Raylas and Dave smiled as they shook hands confirming the deal. Raylas didn’t know if he made a good one or not, but either way he felt satisfied that he would be able to rest a while.

“Oh, and before you ask I stored this back here so nobody would touch it.” Dave laughed as he reached over and pulled up the sparkling chain. “I can tell this thing is valuable so when you passed out I wanted to keep it safe.”

Raylas’ eyes widened at the evil artifact. He was about to curse Dave out and spit on the weapon again but Dave’s proud grin made him hesitate. He couldn’t ruin the deal they just made by tainting it with his hatred for weapon, so he returned the smile and thanked Dave for his consideration.

He took the weapon and quickly went to his room and threw it into the corner.

Damned social etiquette! Damn that Flaming Orb! And damn the undead and Sim for keeping him from his ale!

His tantrum lasted only a couple minutes, most of it him clenching his fists and getting ready to punch the walls or stomp on the floor, but he controlled himself. All he did was kick his bag which was filled with only clothes.

A thud sounded and the pouch rolled out. Raylas frowned at it.

That thing came with the chain. Maybe he should toss it too and purge his life from every artifact and magical nonsense from the forest.

But he did enjoy puzzles.

Raylas bent over and took the bag and reread the writing.

> ‘On quest and journey we ride,

>

> Though home is always by our side.

>

> Only veins of aasim may open the door

>

> To the treasure generations have stored.

>

> Everything starts somewhere’

The final line was the key somehow. It was like the beginning was just a description of ‘why’ the pouch existed while the last line was a key to open it. A door with a lock, so to speak. But what did it mean by Everything starts somewhere?

He peered at the bag for some time until an idea came to his head.

“Otote?” he said out loud.

The next moment the top of the bag opened by itself while Raylas felt a tug against his mind then the world shifted.