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Journal of an Adventurer
A night at Pela's then a good breakfast

A night at Pela's then a good breakfast

Waking up in the morning, this appears to be Pela's apartment. Yes, definitely her apartment. It smells like her perfume, and there are no rats and roaches around like where I usually sleep. My head is on fire, and I am sleeping in on a mass of blankets. I slap myself across the face a little to wake up. Ow. Why does the sun hate me so much? Well, I must have convinced her last night. I remember very little after she opened that wine bottle. I have never been taken by grog that quickly before. I need some greasy food and maybe another drink; that should help.

Using the soap at the sink, just doing a quick wash. Need to make time for a real bath. The flowing water is excellent; wash hair and body but keeping the pants on just in case Pela wakes up.

It is my first real day on the Watch. This should be as much fun as unexpected dentistry—the things we do for money and all life’s necessities. As I potter around collecting boots and my Watch tunic, I see the door to her room is ajar.

I assume that Pela is still beautiful, even while she sleeps. Not going to open her door to have a look while she sleeps. Hang on, what is that? Another door? I cross the room to open the mysterious door, finding another room with a bed! How does Pela afford this place and not be doing ‘jobs’ on the side? One thing though, no more cot for me!

I am glad I convinced her to let me stay and help her with the rent. It cost me one hundred slips, but I did get a key too. Much nicer than Corbin's; fewer bugs and people wanting to hurt or rob you.

I leave her sleeping. Should write a note, so she knows where I have gone.

Dear Pela,

I am heading to work at the Watch barracks. I have a long day today.

Blah, blah, blah …

Have a good day yourself.

… so on and so forth …

Thank you again for letting me stay. I am forever in your debt.

That should do it. Sign my name. Done!

Not a fan of just writing a note and leaving, but the Watch is a harsh mistress. Where to put it so she can see it? Next to the water jug, the best place. Sneaking, sneaking. Gentle, gentle, and close the door. I'm out. How am I going to lock it? Damn it! Oh well, she will be up sometime soon. She will see my note, fall head over heels for me, and … I am overestimating my chances. She allowed me to stay because I owe her and am willing to pay the rent until she finds a job.

Let’s see if Brice is working this morning. I know he was around here last time, but now there is another trader. “Excuse me, do you know when Brice will be working today?”

He looks up from his wares, seeing the sword and armour. “More likely, he doesn’t have any food to cook. Took some time off, I guess, sir.”

Sir? I knew it was too good to be true, two free meals a day.

Might head over to the Hall for a cheap Adventurer's meal. It should help with the hangover. It is so great being a card-carrying member. I wonder what I will be doing today? In the end, it does not matter. Keep my head down, and slips will come my way. It is only three days, what is the worst thing that could happen?

Before I realise it, I am walking down the street that leads to the Hall. Still looks the same as when I registered. The unimposing brick building, but I love walking in here; you can feel the history, from the ancient banners to the heroes’ weapons to tapestries of past battles. The aged oak tables, chairs, and struts, unseen in most of Favinonia, they’d sell for a premium price. The big names that duel in the fighter pit, the stone worn by consenting parties, and one of the best brewers of ale in all of Lake Merrin—even all of the Dukedom.

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There are Bertude and Royce. Not many parties in today. By the banners on display, only the Unlikely Company and Travellers of the Road are in today.

Food and ale time. Bertude looks up at me as I approach the bar. “Morning, Bertude! What is on the menu today?”

She points to the specials board and replies, “Porridge, thirty copper; eggs and bacon with a half loaf of bread, eighty bits; meat pie, forty copper; yesterday's stew, twenty coppers, with the half loaf, thirty coppers; and dried meat and cheese, thirty copper. What do you want?”

“I think today I will go with eggs and bacon, with a half-pint of ale.”

“One silver slip.” I hand over the slip. “Here is your ale, and it should take about ten minutes for the meal. What you up to today?”

“First day on the Watch job. Looking forward to my first payment. Been so long since I had a paying job.”

“Yeah, I heard that the Duke's tour will be here in three days. I guess Count Darel wants the town to be in tip-top shape when His Grace arrives.”

Royce comes over and sits down at the bar. “Slow morning, Bertude. Ginger ale.” He looks at me and says, “How’s it going, Lone Solo?” He chuckles a bit; thinks it is so funny. “First day jitters?”

Annoying man. I can see Bertude is having a quiet laugh as well.

“Just going through the motions, already been assigned to a squad. Weird bunch, but cannot do anything about that. Had a bit of excitement yesterday, you know, with the Commander being poisoned and all.”

Royce and Bertude look at me wide-eyed. What is their problem?

Royce coughs and lowers his voice to a whisper that won’t carry to anyone but Bertude. “The Commander was poisoned? How could that be? Axel was fine yesterday morning. He came down himself to inform me which parties were successful. When did it happen?”

“Let me see … after lunch, I think. The poison was traced back to the mess hall. I do not know all the details, but I think someone who was involved was turned into goop.”

I thought that they already knew, but with those shocked faces, I must have guessed wrong.

Bertude pipes up. “Turned into goop? What the Holy Saints is that?”

“You know, sludge, slime, goo—goop. One second, he was a man. The next, he was a pile of goo. If you think that is shocking, you should have seen this Paladin's face. He was holding him at the time.” They look at me as though I have lost my mind, laughing at all this. “Sorry, it was pretty traumatic for me yesterday, but what can you do?”

Royce asks, “Who’s in charge now?”

With a groan, I reply, “Zlata. She is the acting commander until Axel has recovered. I bumped into her as well. She is such an angry person.” I should leave it at that, just in case. “But the squad I am with is pretty hardcore.”

Royce asks, “So, what is the squad and who is in it?”

Not going to say the squad's name, as it is a bit stupid. “The officer’s name is Joan Stillwater.” What is with that look? Has this squad got a reputation? “The other squad members are Gunnar and WayWocket.”

Now they are laughing out loud.

“What?”

Wiping tears from his eye, Royce coughs a bit before he says, “You’re with the Rejects? Zlata must hate you! I've heard of those three; they are the only ones who have stuck around. If the Watch wants to get rid of someone, they send them down to the Rejects, and after a couple of weeks, they quit.”

Bertude passes me another drink. “On the house. You will need it!”

This is pissing me off, first because of Zlata, now these two. “Come on; it might not be that bad. Besides, I am only there for a couple of days.” Being flushed out of a job is not one of my fondest feelings. “Listen, you two, I will take that drink, but ... but ...”

They both laugh at me; well, let’s assume that.

Royce stops laughing long enough to say, “Don't worry, son, it’s not like this will be your brilliant career. Just a little joke, don’t be angry. Like you said, two or three days and money in the bank.” While I sit there fuming, Royce scratches his full beard, and the thought strikes me that everyone can grow a better beard than me. Damn it!

“If you do a good job, it should either open up a position on a party or maybe another solo job. Just keep up the good work.”

Bertude hands me the third drink. “Be smart, Solo. Try not to do anything too stupid, and what Royce said will happen.”

A bell rings. At last, my breakfast! “Here you go, enjoy!”

This looks good. Quick down the gullet. Need to be at the barracks pretty soon. What time did they want me in? Mela, Jara, Jenell! I did not even ask. Possibly running late; best first day ever. At least I have all my equipment and that tabard Gunnar gave me. Should have washed it a bit more last night; it still has the faintest aroma of wet dog that is not pleasant.

Heading out, I wave goodbye to Bertude and Royce.