I shake my head and sigh. What a day. Everything considered, it probably is a good thing I didn't have to kill or maim any wannabe muggers. I'm quite glad that the trio prooved somewhat sensible in the end. Especially as I'm far from sure I could have dealt with all three of them without suffering some serious injuries in turn.

After only recovering from the beating I received from Kronk the former bandit lord so very recently I'm not too keen to repeat the experience. I'm not exactly keen to find out how being stabbed with a dagger feels either. Yes, there is some knowledge I can do without.

After another head shake I dust off my cloak and get going again. Riverrun might only be a small medieval frontier town, but there is still much of it I haven't seen. Much I still need to see.

As I resume my prowl I silently curse myself. I really should have used [Identify] on one of these thugs. Maybe even all of them. The knowledge provided by the skill, limited as it may be, certainly would help me get a better feel for the city and especially its criminal underbelly.

No, I should have used [Identify] at least once out of principle. Just like the leader of this little gang of muggers did. As an additional threat at the very least. And to know a little more about the threat I'm dealing with too. I scratch my head in annoyance. Damn it, how can I be annoyed right now? I should be glad I managed to resolve the issue without spilling blood.

Oh, right! Next time I should shake them down for some coin in turn before I scare them off! That should help with my mood. And with my almost empty purse too.

After one last annoyed huff I decide to leave the alley and the disaster that did not quite happen there behind me. Afterwards it doesn't take me all that long to reach the other waterfront of the district, if it even is one, outside the wall.

And what I find there is quite the surprise. Sure, there are wooden jetties much the same as on the other side of town. The boats, or ships, here are larger and more numerous though. I guess most trade goes through this place.

As a result the place is a lot more busy too, although there are less shops to be found here. Instead there are several storehouses of considerable size and nestled in between them a number of taverns, although I'm not quite sure they deserve even that name, as I can't smell any food worth mentioning.

What I can smell though is booze and probably not the good kind either. No, these are the places where hard working men and women spend their wages on cheap beer and spirits. Some might be cheated out of their last few coins over one rigged game or another too.

This is the kind of place honest people should avoid like the plague. It's the kind of place I'm more familiar with than I care to admit. Yet, I feel a little uneasy. I may not be ready for a place like this yet. This may not be the very heart of the city's criminal underbelly, but I'm quite certain that whatever organized crime there is has people around here. Wherever there is gambling and cheap booze, as well as possibly smuggling, they always make sure to get their cut. That isn't just a rule of thumb. No it's more of an iron law than many actual laws.

Before I can come to a decision about my further course of action, this very decision is taken out of my hand. As someone slides up next to me.

It is a man dressed not entirely dissimilar to me and he seems to be in a playful mood, judging by the wide grin he flashes me. It is a dangerous grin. A grin that sets off my [Danger Sense]. He triggers the skill not because he means to harm me. No, he triggers the skill through sheer proximity, because his idea of harmless fun might just end with me as collateral damage.

“What a marvelous evening, don't you agree?”

I tilt my head slightly.

“Marvelous, is it?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“Most certainly! You didn't even have to gut my brother's no good apprentices. I'd say that alone has to count for much! He would be entirely insufferable had he lost another bunch. He doesn't understand that he is partially at fault too. He really should either pick or train them better.”

He pauses briefly and, although it should be impossible, his smirk becomes even more mischievous.

“And even better, I get to meet such a charming new player in our town. You have barely arrived, yet you are already making a name for yourself. Marvelous! Truly marvelous!”

Oh. I get a sinking feeling. It seems I stumbled right into the middle of something. A rivalry between brothers? Or is he just toying with me? Either way, I can't just walk away from this. Not unless I'm willing to walk away from the city entirely. At least until I'm able to take on the whole criminal underworld on my own, which is not bloody likely anytime soon.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

My thoughts must be clearly visible on my face. To someone like him anyway. I hope I'm not that easy to read in general.

He just chuckles and gestures towards one of the taverns. It is neither the biggest nor the loudest. It's not the smallest or most shabby one either though. No, this one is rather average and inconspicuous overall.

It might just not be too bad a place after all. Unless I end up crossing the people running it from behind the scenes. Which is a development I should try to avoid very much.

“Why don't you come in and have a drink. We probably shouldn't be having this conversation out here. Right? You don't mind. Right?”

Oh, an offer I can't refuse. To borrow his words, this is just marvelous. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Instead I gesture for him to go ahead.

“By all means. Lead the way.”

I don't have to ask twice and he doesn't have to turn to make sure I'll follow. Turning down the polite invitation wouldn't be wise. After all I'm pretty sure he could have some more competent thugs see me to the meeting instead. I don't want to take the risk. My chances to get out of this alive and well are better if I come along quietly.

As we enter the tavern, the dim hum of a dozen or more conversations blending together surrounds us. The sign above the door should probably suggest a name, but I can't figure out what an octopus slinging about mugs of beer with its tentacles, is supposed to tell me. Have the river folk around here ever even seen a real octopus?

Whatever, it looks rather playful though, thus I'm not worried. The tavern's interior is decidedly less grimy than I initially expected too. A bard is sitting by the spot where the inn keeper pours beer for his customers, plucking a quiet but playful rhythm on a lute. He doesn't sing, but maybe that is for the better. Come to think of it. There might just be a skill at work here that helps keep things calm despite the copious amounts of beer consumed by the numerous patrons. That is a trick I'll have to keep in mind.

My host leads the way to a table that is a little out of the way. It is one of the smaller tables in the taproom too. Most importantly though, it is close to the door leading out back.

A shiver runs down my back, as ugly memories rear their head. Memories of being stuffed into a dumpster behind a place that might have been more modern but otherwise not so unlike this tavern. It takes considerable effort to drive these thoughts from my mind again.

At the same time though I can feel [Danger Sense] working overtime. Enough so, that I feel that I must be close to another level up for that skill. I look around cautiously, as I follow my host to the table, in an attempt to figure out which of the guests are not actually guests but on the man's payroll instead.

One of those sitting at the table right next to the front entrance. Of that I'm sure. That one is entirely too sober and not very good at pretending to be drunk. He is in a good position though. He'll be in the back of anyone coming through the front door.

Curiously enough there is no one next to the backdoor. That might be because it only leads to the storage room where more barrels of beer wait to be rolled out. There probably is someone back there who watches the actual backdoor.

The bard. He probably isn't just on the inn keepers payroll. His skills would be too valuable should things go sour to not have him on your own team.

One of the wenches hurrying about the room with mugs, both empty and full, is doing some pick pocketing on the side. Or is she passing along slips with messages? Yes, that is it. Clever! Almost no one would pay attention to a barmaid getting a little close to the patrons as she delivers fresh beer and collects empty mugs as well as coin.

The latter of course would suggest that quite a few of the other patrons are at least in some way associated with my gracious host, who orders a beer for both of us just as I sit down with him. At this very point a brief divine whisper brushes my mind.

[*Ding!* Your skill Streetwise has leveled up to level 2!]

I accept the mug of beer, giving it a little sniff, before taking a careful sip. I have no doubt that there have to be dozens of poisons I wouldn't ever notice before they either kill me or take me out another way, but it I doubt my host would have anything put into my first mug. Not if he really wants to talk. I flash him a grin.

“Won't you come into my parlor, says the spider to the fly.”

He raises an eyebrow, chuckles and sips some of his own beer.

“What a curious saying. It seems you are well aware and yet we are here. Right?”

I shrug and put my mug back down for the moment. Unconsciously I mimic his way of speaking, at least a little.

“It's usually not wise to make a fuss, as long as there is a chance to talk things out. Right? And you probably have a proposition I wouldn't want to turn down. Or am I mistaken?”

He chuckles and nods.

“Indeed. Indeed. I'm not like my brother though. I'd like to think that I'm a little more careful when I recruit some new talent. I'd like to put you to the test first.”

I can feel the sensation I by now know to associate with an identification skill being used on me. It isn't as unpleasant as with the gate guard and those thugs earlier at least. A plain normal [Identify] then most likely.

Still my brows furrow a little. After all I have been told that using a skill like that without asking for permission first is considered impolite at best.

“Mind if I get a good look at you too?”

He shrugs and takes another sip from his beer.

“Please, go ahead.”

His tone immediately makes me suspicious. He is not worried in the slightest. Not one bit. Instead he almost sounds like he is playing a game with me. Well, what can I do, except play along? I focus my attention on him and trigger my [Identify] skill.

A little of my Mana drains away and I take a sip from my mug in turn to combat the mental fatigue that always comes with the expenditure of Mana. Even before I can put the mug back down I receive the information provided by the skill.

[Jerzego, Honest Merchant(Radiance, Uncommon, Level 1)]

I blink in surprise. That doesn't seem right. Is [Honest Merchant] even a real class? It could be for all I know and it might really be an uncommon class too. There is no way though that he really is only level one. I lean forward a little, frowning again.

“You are playing games with me, aren't you?”