“Gods, it’s just awful!”

“I know.”

“We’re not even doing anything! Nothing happens around here, and everyone knows it!”

“I know.”

“And now there’s talks of cutting our wages! We’re the only ones left who volunteered to stay and we’re getting our wages cut?! How is that fair?!”

“It isn’t.”

“Gods damnit…and you’ve heard all this already.”

“That I have.”

“Sorry Marie.”

Marie sighed; she placed the mug she was cleaning under the bar and stuffed her damp towel into the front pocket of her stained apron.

“You’re fine Christy.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the bar. “You’re always welcome to rant here. Besides, I like having you and the others around. The longer you stay in here, the less trouble everyone causes.”

“That hold true when the place is empty?”

“Well, I’d be a hypocrite if it didn’t, huh?”

Across from her, Christy smiled and sipped at her mug. Though her leather armor was gone, she still wore the long-sleeved tunic and pants of the City Guard, their silver color having long dulled to grey. Her buzz cut had begun to grow back, brown fuzz getting thicker, something Marie knew irritated her to no end. She never had a chance to shave it off, however, and her blue eyes, dark and puffy from exhaustion, only attested to that.

Christy – who’s full name was Christina, a name she despised – wasn’t much older than the other guards that frequented her tavern, her narrow face still smooth and unwrinkled. Recent events with the city, however, threatened to change that, the stress of it all beginning to pull at her. She sat now hunched over Marie’s bar, hands wrapped around a mug of ale, as though that stress weighed her shoulders down.

Marie pulled her lips into a thin line; that seemed to be true for everyone these days.

“Sorry Marie.” Christy began to stand up from her barstool. “I’m keeping you up, I just…had rant at someone. I’ll –”

Marie waved her hand. “You’re fine Christy, honestly.” She grinned as Christy plopped back down, no second invitation needed. “Besides, I don’t turn in until the cat tells me to.”

As if on cue, they both glanced to the end of the wooden bar, where it curved to a straight away. In its typical spot, the tavern cat sat motionless, paintbrush tail wrapped around its paws, peacock wings tucked against its back. It remained staring at the front door of the tavern, back turned to them, in its never-ending vigil.

“Gods,” Christy said with a shudder, still watching the cat. “I don’t know how you stand being in this place at night with that thing.”

Marie grinned, and looked back at Christy; the guard could take a punch to the face without flinching – something that Marie had witnessed before – but remained frightened of an animal that paid her no mind.

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Marie said. “I always love it when it’s just the two of us. Let’s me hear my own thoughts for once.”

“Oh, if you want that, you should just come out on duty with us.” Christy moved the mug to her lips, eyes still on the cat. “Not a damned thing happens, always nice and quiet.”

Marie shook her head as Christy slowly tipped her mug back to finish it off. As she did, Marie strode over to the cat, floorboards creaking underfoot, and dug her nails into its shoulders. A purr leaking out from the winged creature as it began to knead the bar, though its gaze remained on the door.

Marie grinned; the shoulders were a weak spot.

As she continued to scratch, Marie glanced around the empty tavern, double checking the closing routine in her mind. She knew it was all done correctly, but a part of her always had to check again.

The numerous amounts of chairs – four to a table – were all stacked neatly, flipped upside down on every table. Each of them – Marie knew to be seventeen in total – had already been wiped down. Her server on duty that night, a younger girl by the name of Delma, had also wiped down the floorboards once she’d finished with the tables, a task that normally fell to Marie. She’d tried to get the girl to go home early, happy with her work, but Delma wouldn’t hear any of it. She had remained far longer than the rest of Marie’s workers had, the cook and dishwasher having left hours ago, and ensured that the tavern would open tomorrow with nothing out of place. Delma had even tried to turn down the jar of tips that Marie had made that night, when she tried to reward her for the effort once she was done, though Marie wasn’t having that.

She was lucky to have such a dedicated worker, though Delma’s work ethic wasn’t unique in Marie’s tavern. Everyone, from the cook to the severs, worked well above their pay, something that Marie expected; she was a harsh, but fair, manager, wanting the very best from the few that worked under her – a sentiment she repaid with higher wages than any establishment in Mirabar could offer.

Though that wasn’t much, when barely any establishment remained.

When Delma had departed for the night, extra coin hidden away in her ratty handbag, Christy and Marie remained the only ones left in the tavern. Vorn had tried to stay up with them, but he’d practically fallen asleep at the bar, so exhausted he was from number crunching. Christy had giggled like a young girl when Marie had kissed Vorn goodnight, perhaps for a bit too long, but she didn’t mind. Marie could never explain to him how much she loved his willingness to balance their ledgers, a task that she despised.

Which, of course, was a rather important task now. Money was getting tight these days, though Marie knew that she and Vorn luckily had enough to weather the storm. The food shortage had begun to drastically impact the city, with most of the markets, restaurants, and other taverns shutting down due to a lack of stock. As far as Marie was aware, her tavern, along with another restaurant and a small market, were the only remaining places where food could be purchased. Evidently, she wasn’t the only one that kept an ear to the ground; she was sure the other establishments had mimicked her, hording as much food as they could, in preparation for the storm to come.

While that was keeping her business afloat, the consequences were far reaching. With so many being forced to spend what little coin they had on food or meals, many of the other businesses within the city found themselves in short supply of customers. Everything from blacksmiths to tailors were on the verge of shutting their doors for good, with not a soul wanting to buy any of their stock. Vorn, after shopping about one day, had guessed that the city would see more than half of all businesses close within a month.

Not a good situation for anyone.

“You know what?” Christy sat down the now empty mug and leaned against the bar, mimicking Marie some moments ago. “You know what I think? This all went to shit on the sixth meeting, not the seventh.”

Marie regarded her as though she’d grown a second head.

“Oh, sorry.” Christy continued; Marie stepped away from the cat, who stopped purring immediately, and stood back in her original spot. “Jack had a bet with Joel that the Council was going to meet seven times, which it did, but that the seventh meeting would be the one where everything went to shit. He won the bet, sure, but I think it was the sixth meeting, not the seventh.”

“The seventh meeting, being the one where they came out and condemned all of us?” Marie held her look. “Where everything did go to shit for us?

“Yes, yes, but that’s not where it actually went to shit.”

“Uhm…”

Christy pushed off the bar and held her hands up, palms towards Marie, almost pleading. In the now dim light that shed from the chandeliers, Christy appeared somewhat crazier than she normally looked – her flushed skin and baggy eyes not helping the matter.

“Listen, the damned Council gave that little proclamation rather too easily, right?” Christy said. “Not even a second thought on cutting Mirabar in half. That means that they thought over everything before, or at the very least, came to the conclusion that this was something they had to do, which happened at the sixth meeting! I bet you anything Marie, anything, that they had a good old long talk about the food shortages and closures and realized that it was ‘for the best’” Christy exaggerated the tone of one of the council members, rather rudely. “if the Undercity separated from us. Which was discussed and finalized at the sixth meeting, which is why they had no trouble fucking all of us over on the seventh! So, it wasn’t the seventh, it was the sixth!” She leaned back against the bar, eyes wide. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“But that still makes the seventh meeting when everything went wrong.” Marie said.

Christy let out a puff of air and rolled her eyes.

“See, that kind of thinking is going to get you nowhere Marie, I swear.” She fell silent for a moment, only for a blush to creep into her face. “I-I mean that respectfully of course, n-no offense or anything I –”

“Oh, shut up.” Marie grabbed the pitcher of ale to her left and poured more into Christy’s mug. “I’ve heard worse from Godwin.”

Christy smiled sheepishly and began to sip at her mug, eyes downcast. Marie set the pitcher back down and stepped back, leaning against the counter behind her. The coolness that bled off the wall of bottles drifted across her, causing Marie to shiver.

Despite the ridiculousness of Christy’s theory, part of what she said had made sense. The decision to cut Mirabar in half, separating the upper city, Mirabar proper, and the Undercity, a larger part of Mirabar that was build under the mountain they were on, had been a shocking announcement. By the time the order had been read, the messenger had ducked back into the wide doors that led to the Undercity and shut them behind himself, locking them for good. The town had almost broken into riots the moment the doors had shut, order barely restored by the City Guards. The act left Mirabar without a government, or the resources that came with it, and the city would have fallen into anarchy had the Captain of the Guard not stepped in and declared that, while he still led, law and order would remain within the city. How long that would hold, however, remained to be seen.

The situation did speak to a greater issue, one that picked at the back of Marie’s mind, along with everyone else within Mirabar; why had the Council abandoned them like that? Had Mirabar proper and the Undercity coordinated their efforts, the mines within the Undercity could have borne enough precious minerals to buy enough food for everyone. Yes, many would have to tighten their belts, but the long-term benefit would see everyone fed, so long as they were able to buy food in time.

Though many still questioned the decision, they all knew why something like this had happened. With the shortages occurring and panic beginning to set in, no doubt the Council had decided to cut their loses and separate, keeping the profits, and the food, for themselves and the Undercity. The Council never seemed to care for Mirabar proper anyways.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Marie frowned, and turned away from Christy. She absentmindedly began to clear away the empty bottles on the counter behind her, tossing them in a basket under the bar.

It didn’t help that the idea of the two city halves working together would only succeed if they were able to find a place to purchase food from – a place that may as well not exist.

“Why do you suppose those giants raided the Goldenfields?” Marie wondered out loud. From behind, she heard Christy snort.

“If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be drinking with you.”

Marie grinned. She couldn’t argue with that one.

The cat chirped – a rare sound.

Marie turned back around just in time to see it spread its wings, with brilliant feathers of blue and green, and launch into the air. The cat flapped over Christy, who yelled and ducked, and landed on floorboards on the other side of the bar. Folding its wings, it scrambled to and up the stairs on the far side of the kitchen.

Smoothing her tunic, Christy stood up from her barstool, ears tinged red.

“Well, I guess the cat wants to turn in. I suppose I should leave, huh?”

“No…” Marie said; Christy paused and glanced at her. “It doesn’t normally talk like that, that’s not right.”

“Huh? Why is –”

The door to the tavern opened with a bang – and a small, “Ah, whoops!”

A portly man stood in the doorway, obscured somewhat by the dark of the moonless night. As he stepped into the tavern, and into the light, Marie recognized the man as the sole owner of the only restaurant still open within the city – an annoying man that went by the name Mercutio.

He was short, coming up barely to Marie’s chin – though she was taller than most – and large enough that his dark blue pants seemed ready to burst, his faint red tunic pulled just as tight. In a time where many of them were tightening their belts, Mercutio had been rumored to have adjusted his clothing twice – something that the man seemed proud of.

His round face broke into a smile upon seeing Marie; Mercutio gently closed the door behind him and sauntered into the tavern, the dim light exaggerating the roundness of his face, shining faintly off his balding head. Beady blue eyes crinkled as he smiled, and Mercutio’s large, bushy mustache only amplified the jolliness that he exuded.

Marie scrunched her nose as the man approached the bar; she knew better than to fall for that.

“Mmmarie!” Mercutio yelled; his voice was thick with an accent that Marie couldn’t place, and on some days, she swore it was made up entirely. “Always a pleasure to see you! And you, ma’am!” he nodded towards Christy. “Always happy to see a guard of the city. Gods know we need more of you lot these days. Been here long?”

Christy offered him a small smile, though her voice was flat.

“Yes, but I was actually just about to leave, so…” Christy’s voice cut off as Marie jerked her chin at her seat.

Without a word, Christy plopped back down in her barstool.

“Ah, well, I’m glad you found a reason to stay!” Mercutio stopped in front of where the bar curved. “Ah, and where is that winged beast? I was hoping to see him! So many rumors about that little thing and I’d thought –”

“Went to bed.” Marie said curtly, pouring Christy another mug, who happily accepted it. “What do you want?”

Mercutio smiled sadly and clasped his hands together.

“Ah, Marie, why must we continue with the hostilities? You know how much I respect you and your little bar here.”

“Then you also know how much I hate having you in the same town as me.” Marie marched over and stood across from him, slightly to the right. Just in case. “What the hell do you want?”

“What, I can’t come see –”

“It’s late Mercutio and I want to sleep.”

“Yes but –”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Ah but Marie –”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Am I not allowed to have polite chit-chat with you first?”

Marie crossed her arms and sneered; Mercutio matched the look.

“Alright, you damned hag.” Any hint of politeness dropped from the man’s voice, though his accent stayed. “You always make business insufferable.”

“Could say the same to you.” Marie replied, unphased. She glanced back at Christy, who watched the pair with rapt attention.

Marie flicked her gaze back to Mercutio; she was glad to have a witness this time.

“Well, tonight was rather slow, and I thought I’d stop over, finish up our conversation from –”

“No.”

Mercutio rolled his eyes. “By Cyric’s Breath Marie, you haven’t even thought of it?” He raised his hands up. “You’d be out of the business! Nice sack of coin for this damned place, enough to see you out of this dreadful town and down the road to anywhere on the coast! You’d be free!” He placed his hands on the bar and leaned in. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed – you’re barely pulling through by the skin of your damned teeth! Only regulars are the damned guard,” Christy snorted. “and Godwin, for all he’s worth, and maybe a few others! You’ve been giving out food more than you can afford, and I know you’re in the red this month. That charitable streak you’ve got going on is biting you hard, isn’t it?”

Marie fought back the urge to smirk; she was no where near the red, nor was she running out of food, but she knew Mercutio was watching. And she’d made sure it appeared as such.

“Look at this logically.” Mercutio continued. “Everyone wins if I buy this place. I get more places to open and get food out to people, the entire town gets fed more, the economy can get back up again, just a bit, and you’ll be out of the place before that even happens. My offer is still on the table, and with that much coin, you could retire in the North Ward down in Waterdeep. Think of it! Everyone wins!”

“You win, more than anyone.” Marie said flatly. “So, the answer is still no.”

Mercutio threw his hands up and stalked away from the bar, turning his back to Marie. She remained rooted in place, watching as the man shook his head and mumbled to himself.

Three times now had he barged into her establishment and asked about buying her out. Three times now she’d turned down his offer, and yet the man still refused to listen to her. She wished Vorn was still up, sitting in his corner. Mercutio dared not to ask when her husband was present – a fact that angered her more than the requests.

Mercutio flipped around and pointed a finger at Marie, face slightly flushed, as though it took him a great effort to remain calm.

“The only reason you’re even still in business is because of all that hording you did.” He said. “I give credit where it’s due, you foresaw the shortage well before the rest of us, but that’s the only reason you’re still here. But that food is running out, I know it is, and it’s going to bite you.”

“And how will that happen?”

Mercutio sauntered back to the bar, a thin smile upon his face – almost eager.

“Simple. All it takes is one accident to rid you of the rest of your pantry, however meager it might be. Something could spoil, a fire could start, disease, contamination, what have you.” He waved a hand. “You have to keep it all in one place, which is a hazard. I don’t have to do that. I’m still getting shipments in, I still have that little supply line, I get fresh food all the time. If my stock goes out, I’ll be fine, give or take a few days. But if yours goes out…” Mercutio clucked his tongue, beady eyes hungry. “Well, you’d never recover, now would you?”

“Hey!” Christy slapped a hand on the hilt of her sword and pointed a finger at Mercutio, eyes hard. “I know a threat when I hear one Mercutio,” She spat, stepping towards him, though he paid her no heed. “and I’ll not hear it! Not in –”

Marie waved at her and sighed deeply, suddenly feeling a wave of lethargy wash over her. Christy’s words cut off from the sight.

“It’s not a threat Christy, he…” Marie rubbed her face; she knew what she had to do. “He makes a good point, I…” Marie threw her hands up, frowning deep. “Honestly Mercutio, I have thought about it, I…I’m just so scared and worried about everything, I don’t want to make the wrong choice but…” She sighed, glancing away from the smile that curled up his face. “I think you’re right. I think Vorn and I need to cut our losses. Too much to worry about here.”

“Marie!” Christy gasped, utterly shocked.

Mercutio’s smile deepened, his unnaturally white teeth flashing in the dim light.

“Ah! I knew you’d come to your senses! Just took a bit, right?”

“Right.” Marie said, deflated. To the side, Christy stepped back, eyes wide.

“Well, no sense in wasting time!” Mercutio turned towards the door. “I’ll go and draft up a contract to –”

“Wait, Mercutio!” Marie wrung her hands. “I want an agreement on the price. A verbal one or a handshake, anything that I can hold you to. Not that I don’t trust you but…just to be sure. You understand, right? Will you do me that kindness?”

“Ah of course!” Mercutio said, sticking his hand out to Marie; his grin had somehow gotten wider. “Anything for you, my dear! Put her here!”

Marie reached for his hand.

Then grabbed Mercutio, yanked him against the bar, and slammed his arm onto the counter.

Mercutio gasped in pain, too shocked to fight back. Christy yelled though Marie ignored whatever she had said.

Marie reached under the bar and yanked out a long, thin dagger.

The color drained from Mercutio’s face.

She flipped the knife around and raised it, point towards Mercutio.

“Marie!” Christy yelled, ripping her sword from its sheath; her voice cracked.

Marie struck.

Mercutio screamed, Christy’s yells echoing his as she leapt over the bar.

The knife stabbed into the bar, through Mercutio’s sleeve, pinning him.

He screamed again, his throat choked with fear.

Marie reached out and grabbed his sweaty face with her now free hand, the other still holding Mercutio’s arm to the bar. He shook like a leaf, staring at the knife, as Christy froze behind her.

Maire leaned in, teeth bared, voice growling.

“You’re the stupidest man in this god damn town if you think I’ll flip just like that.” Marie shook his face, causing a squeak to escape from his pouting lips. “Now listen to me!

“Don’t think I’m blind to what you’re trying to do, trying to make a little monopoly in this town – especially when the Uppercity just cut us off? How much power would you have owning two of the places in town that still sell food? You think I didn’t realize that? I don’t even know how you’re getting the coin to remain open, but it doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is that you’ll never get my tavern, or my food, or my fucking customers!” Marie spat the word, causing Mercutio to flinch. “In fact, as of tomorrow, I’m lowering my prices and taking as many of your customers as I can, because the last thing I want is a sniveling coward like you to have more power in this city!

“From now, you’ll respect my business, respect my practices, and respect me as the owner of this damned place. If anything happens to my food, my husband, or anyone else, I will march down to your little restaurant and rip your thumbs off myself.” She leaned in further, causing Mercutio to shake. “I didn’t break the damned Drow and escape the Underdark with a child on my back to be intimidated by the fattest man from here to Candlekeep. You step into my establishment again, I’ll have Vorn break your damn legs and watch you roll back to your little place. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes! Yes! I swear!” The accent fled from Mercutio’s voice, replaced by naked, squeaky terror.

“Then get out of my tavern.”

She ripped the dagger from the bar and shoved Mercutio backwards. The large man fell on his rear, only to immediately shoot up and sprint from the tavern much faster than Marie thought he could. The door let out a loud CRACK as Mercutio smashed it open and fled into the dark streets.

Marie remained where she was, clutching the knife, knuckles white; she sucked in a deep breath, and hoped her heart would slow soon. It had been sometime since she’d done something like that.

But it would be sometime before she’d see that horrible man again.

Marie turned towards Christy and almost laughed; the poor guard was still next to her behind the bar, stock still, sword clutched loosely, the color drained from her face. Marie moved to stash the dagger back under the bar, causing Christy to flinch and jump back, hitting the counter behind her.

“You didn’t see that, right?” Marie asked, standing up.

“M-Marie I have to report that!” Christy gasped; she stuffed her sword back into its sheath, hands shaking a bit. “He may have threatened you, but you can’t do that!”

“Do you really need to report me?”

“Yes!” Christy yelled.

Marie pursed her lips as Christy sucked in a breath and rubbed her face; no doubt something like this would land Marie into a heap of trouble, and Christy didn’t seem keen on turning her in, having no choice in the matter.

Perhaps there’d be a different way, then.

“How much are you paid?” Marie asked, crossing her arms.

“What?”

“How much are you paid?”

“Uh…” Christy’s face scrunched in thought. “Five silver a day, why –”

“If I offered you seven silver, same schedule, and free food from my pantry, would you quit the job and stay at this place, as muscle?” Marie jerked her head towards the front door. “I could use a strong guard like yourself after all that…maybe a few more, honestly.”

Christy’s eyes grew wider than they already were; pay was becoming precarious within the town, raises completely unheard of. And with free food on top of that…

“You’re serious?”

“Sure.” Marie shrugged. “Extend that to Jack and Joel. Oh, and Brielle too. Having you four in here would ease a lot of my worries about everything. Plus, you can all rant at each other rather than me for once.”

“And you can afford that?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I couldn’t.”

Christy remained motionless, eyes narrowed in thought.

After a moment, she nodded, though her eyes were still narrowed.

“Yeah, I’ll do it, but I’m going to be vilified. The others too.” She waved a hand before Marie could speak. “They’re all going to take you up on the offer, I know they will. We’re all in the same boat when it comes to grievances. Captain is going to have a fit though.”

“I’ll talk to him if that comes down to it. He wants to downsize anyways, right? Consider it a win-win for him.”

“Yeah.” Christy said. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Fantastic!” Marie clapped her hands together. “No point in wasting time, go turn your sword in and tell the others, the sooner the better.”

“Uh, alright.”

Christy turned towards the back of the bar, eyes still narrowed in thought; before she could move, Marie stepped over and grabbed her arm.

She looked at Marie, eyes now wide, a hint of fear within them.

“Thank you for being willing to help me like this.” Marie said quietly. “I truly appreciate it.”

“Oh!” Christy said. “Yeah, sure! You’ve done a lot for us so…”

“I know. But if you ever jump over my bar like that again…”

Marie squeezed Christy’s arm, hard enough for her to yelp.

“Yup, got it! Sorry ma’am, won’t happen again!” Christy said, pulling away.

Marie released her and watched as she ran out from behind the bar, and towards the door of the tavern; she slammed it open just like Mercutio had, and ran out into the night.

Marie sighed, and rubbed her face.

“Vorn is going to kill me tomorrow.”