The high leveled man pretending to be a beggar stumbled over to his table, but perhaps even that was an act. Chef had been able to stand in a poison cloud that knocked out the strongest man in the city after all. What were the odds that someone this powerful could actually get this drunk?

When the man got closer, Nerick started to believe that at least part of the mysterious man’s appearance could be believed. Specifically, he reeked of wine and vomit, causing Nerick who’d been literally living in the woods with a goblin to visibly gag. The man just smiled, placing down two mugs of wine on the table before sitting down.

“Not from ‘round ‘ere, eh?”

It was hard to tell where the slurring stopped and the accent began, but it was unlikely that the man he spoke to was born in Berics. He’d certainly never heard of this person before, and people of such high levels were never unknown for long. The city was big, but not that big.

“No. I came here for some change of scenery.”

It wasn’t technically a lie which hopefully helped with his tells. According to his wife, he had a lot of them. But he had to try; it would be really awful luck for him to get caught right after making it through the gate.

“You interested in makin’ some coin? I got a right good proposition for ya.”

This was the most suspicious opener to a conversation that Nerick had ever been in. On the one hand, he did come here for information. But on the other hand, he was already risking his life just by being here. Associating with anyone this conspicuous was sure to be the end of him.

“Not right now, thank you.”

“Perfect! I’ll get us a room to discuss details.”

The man stood up, drained one of the mugs in a couple of seconds, and then drunkenly made his way back to the bar. Nerick debated running for the exit then and there. Odds weren’t good that he’d make it, but he really wasn’t trying to get caught up in whatever bullshit he was currently falling into.

The man turned around from the bar and whistled at him, twirling a key on his finger all the while sporting a vicious grin.

“Follow me.”

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He had obtained another pint of wine, unsurprisingly, and clearly had no intentions of letting Nerick simply leave. With a sigh, he followed up the stairs in the back of the great room, up to the cat walk above, and into the door being held open for him by a fake beggar. What a day he was having.

The door was closed and locked as soon as he passed the threshold, at which point the man’s smile faded.

“Good. Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, allow me to introduce myself without introducing myself. I work for a certain individual with a tremendous amount of wealth and influence in our fine country. He has heard of your acquaintance’s superb cooking and was seeking to try it for himself on a somewhat more long-term basis. Say, a five-year contract perhaps? You would be compensated as well, of course.”

Nerick was sweating at this point. He’d been wringing his hands since entering the room and his comfort levels only went down the more the stranger spoke, losing all semblance of an accent or drunkenness.

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person. I’m Jon Rivers, adventurer. Who did you think I am?”

“Nerick Summers based on the description I was given. Sent to the Sloppy Seal. This is that establishment, yes?”

Damn. The guard had recognized him after all and sold him out. This at least proved that his original plan from weeks ago was successful, since strangers were accosting him to hire Chef through him. It also proved that the guards continued to be a corrupt organization willing to sell the law to the highest bidder. What a great day for Nerick’s mental health.

“I suppose it would be stupid to pretend otherwise.”

“Quite. Now, my employer wishes to meet in a neutral setting, since the cook in question will find entering the city somewhat of a challenge. There is an old ruined church northwest of here near the Elluwaryn Forest. Are you familiar with it”

He nodded, feeling keenly aware of how bad he was at this whole sneaking and lying thing.

“Excellent. Then let us meet there say a week from today at noon. How does that sound?”

There was only ever one answer that would have been acceptable to this man, and Nerick wasn’t about to push his apparently shit luck.

“Very well. We’ll see you then.”

A smile spread across the strong-arm’s face as he handed him a small silver coin and the key after unlocking the door.

“Consider this a sign of good will.”

And with that, the man stumbled out the door before fighting his way down the stairs. By the sound of it the stairs were winning, but he didn’t know for sure. After all, Nerick didn’t bother to watch him leave. He just stood in the room, stunned, confused, and conflicted. At some point he’d begun to drink from the pint of wine the man had bought him. He hadn’t even realized that he brought it up here with him in the first place. How frightening. He was really out of it.

Once his pint was empty and the tavern became louder, he finally made his way back down the stairs to hand off the empty mug and silently leave the establishment. He’d had about as much intelligence gathering as he could stand for one day. Now he just wanted an actually good drink and the recipe to make it.

If this was what his life was going to be like moving forward, he definitely needed to be inebriated for it.