It is the first time my wallet has been filled with decent slips for a while, and that calls for one thing and one thing only—drinks at the Hall! Could see if I could stash my stuff there too. Betting that Royce would charge me for the storage.

Hang on, what about Brice? A free meal all the way. Where was he again? Within eyeshot of Corbin’s. Just have to follow my nose.

Nope, I cannot see him, must not have anything to cook with today. A shame. Heading back to the Hall.

Just have to cut across Market. Ale and a snack too. Might even be news about my job. Bloody Royce and his 'Lone Solo' act. It is not much of a Charter name, but if I earn slips, I do not really care.

Not too busy in the morning, banners not even out. Have to patron a flag—I cannot look amateurish. There is old Bertude running the taps. I have spoken my woes to her many a time, and she was kind enough to listen. Always wondered why a Dwarf was running a bar. Rumour is she was an Adventurer once. With the size of her arms and her missing eye, I could see her as a veteran.

“One ale, please, lovely Bertude, the beer giver.” I crack a smile at the charming barkeep. She’s Dwarven and mature, but damn can she brew a real ale!

“Don’t you get all charming-like, young lad.” She passes me my mug of bitter ale. Her bright green eye stares at me, questioning. “You seem down in the dumps.” As usual. “How can Bertude make it better? How’s about a chaser with that ale?” Putting a shot glass of clear liquid on the bar.

Sniffing, it does not smell that strong. Is it a spirit at all? Down the hatch. Coughing, grasping at my ale. Need a long swig.

“Very smooth.” The hoarseness of my voice surprises me. “What is it?”

She throws back one herself. “It’s a new spirit I got from out East. Some people be talking about it. Made from potatoes. Got a nice kick, doesn’t it?” She pours us another one. “Drink up. What brought you to the Hall today? As you can see, not much is happening.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, most jobs have already been handed out, and the Charters are off to do them. We have two new Charters that joined the Hall this week—the Helpers and Lone Solo. I hope they bring honour to this Hall!”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She has her second shot. I follow in turn.

“Well, I’m Lone Solo and was wondering if anyone from the Watch has sent any word about me being accepted for a Watch job?”

Bertude looks at me. “What do I look like, that crusty old man over there? I have seen a few messengers come in this morning, but I’m just here to run this bar, break up fights, and listen to Adventurers get drunk and talk about their problems.”

Don't I know that. “Well, thanks anyway. That is some good stuff you have got there.”

Handing over some slips, I stand up from my stool and fall over.

Bertude just laughs at me. “It is some robust stuff. I see Mr Lone Solo can’t hold his liquor. It's not like you’re a dwarf! And it’s eighty copper bits more, Lone.”

Handing her more money—great, cost me nearly two silver slips. Need to drink the cheaper stuff, and my head would welcome it.

Stagger over to Royce’s table. “Hey, Royce, have you heard any news on the Watch job?”

He looks up. “Let me see … ah, here it is. Yes, you are on the list. Head over to the Commander's office, and they will give you the rest of the details, Lone Solo.” He always smiles after he says that name.

“Thanks, Royce.”

What am I going to do with all my stuff? “Royce, how much for a locked booth?”

“Well, they are five silver slips per day. Did you need one?”

Five? Glad to score from those Dock Boys earlier. “Yeah, just for today.”

“Sure, here is the key for booth three. Make sure you hand your key back by tomorrow morning, or you will be charged for another day.”

That was simple. Never been in one of these booths. Only Registered can come up here. Here we go. Just dump and off to the barracks. If I do not find a place tonight, I could sleep here. Those look like some very comfortable benches. Padded and everything.

Royce calls out to me. “Remember, tomorrow.”

Thanks, because I could not remember what you said only a couple of minutes ago. Just wave and go. Should not be that hard. A little light-headed with that brew Bertude gave me. At least the barracks are easy to find.

Head up Market onto Gate Street, which leads to the main gate. There are more streets around here, some might even have names that … well, there is Warehouse Place, which is in the warehouse district. And Gold Street, where all those wealthy merchants and some minor nobles live. Tanner Lane, which is near Warehouse Place, as you can imagine, is where the tanners work. I just cannot believe there is no ‘Brothel Cul-de-sac’ when there is a street that ends in a cul-de-sac and has lots of brothels—well, only three. On Tanner Lane there are only two, so that is a little unfair—two tanners, I mean, not two brothels. That could help with newcomers, so they know where to go to … well, you know. It took me about two weeks to find one!

Well, there is the barracks. Hey, look, Barrack Road that leads to Gate Street—fan-bloody-tastic! Now, here is a question: did they build the barracks here because of the street name? Never know—or care, really—but the street names can be useful

A solid-looking building, with some unsavoury types and some criminals. It is the Watchmen who are the dodgy ones. Oh yeah, that’s the job. I’m going to be one of those guys.