The Singing Tankard is probably one of the most visited taverns in all of Wallston, mainly due to its cheap but high quality wines and ales. This is especially true during the beginning of autumn when the owner, old Gregson as most patrons call him, cracks open his freshly brewed specialty ale. It is unanimously agreed by all the townsfolk that his specialty ale is unparalleled compared to any other local brews. Thus, when the first green leaf turns red, citizens from all over town will gather at The Singing Tankard to enjoy a mug of ale and to loosen up after a day of arduous work.

That particular day, despite it being the midst of autumn, the tavern was dead silent. There was no drunken singing, no lively bantering, nor any rowdy dancing; rather, all the patrons were sipping nervously from their mugs as they eyed two strangers who wore the distinctive silver lined black robes of the church sitting in the center of the room.

“Hey Kassdra why are they looking at us like we just took a piss on Yakr’s statue?” The shorter of the two black robed strangers asked. His voice sounded young, but carried a masculine edge.

“Did you listen to the cardinal’s orders at all? This is one of the churchless towns, which was abandoned by us during the Night of the Beast due to lack of manpower.” The other stranger, Kassdra, answered; her voice was soothing but carried a hint of strength and dignity.

“Bullshit!” a pot bellied man, who had overheard the conversation, yelled, as he slammed his mug onto his table, causing the clay cup to crack and leak its brownish orange content over the worn oak surface.

“During the Night of the Beast you dogs were just afraid for your own hides! I hear the next town east of here had four hunters who just sat on their asses!” The man cried, his spittle flying everywhere like dandelion seeds in the wind.

“Yeah!”

“If you could have spared one of them, then not so many would have died!”

“Cowards!”

It was as if that man had opened the floodgates as his accusations began to cause many other patrons to hurl insults towards Kassdra and her companion.

“Shut up! It is not like you damn pigs know anything! Do you know how many hunters we lost that night!” Kassdra’s companion yelled, as he drew his flintlock pistol, making the fat man back up in surprise.

“Alrid! Stand down!” Kassdra commanded, placing her hand firmly on the barrel of his pistol. Then turning to the pot bellied man, she bowed her head and said: “ I’m sorry for my partner's violent tendencies. I understand that you all are mad about our church’s actions, but please believe us when we say we had no choice.”

“So you abandoned us when we needed you the most? Yeah you and your church are nothing but weak spined bastards! Tell your fucking church to get the fuck out of this town!” The man declared, thinking he now had the upper hand in the conversation.

But to his surprise, Kassdra’s eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line, and she began to draw her weapon as she declared: “Insulting me and my partner is fine, insulting the church due to your ignorance is fine, but I will not tolerate your insults when I have already shed light onto our plight. That is akin to slapping the right cheek of Yakr and expecting him to turn his left cheek to you.”

“What are you doing!? Do you not understand baring weapons at anyone in this town will land you in the dungeons?” The man said, his hand desperately mopping away the endless streams of sweat that had begun to form on his forehead.

“Then I will warn you one last time to not insult the church! We are here to seek a man named Merek; if you loathe us so much then bring him and we’ll leave.” Kassdra said as she pointed her weapon, a rapier but with two gun nozzles which jutted out from the guard, at the pot bellied man’s throat.

From the crowd of patrons, most of whom were jeering and threatening the church, one tall bearded man stepped forward and said: “You bastards of the church! Coming here and trying to threaten people as you please! Me and my boys won’t stand for this!”

The man unslung a giant bastard sword from his back, and then placed two of his sausage-like fingers into his mouth and whistled a high pitched note. Within seconds, five more men stepped out of the crowd, two of whom also held bastard swords.

Kassdra eyed the six men, but quickly lost interest. She turned to Alrid and said: “They are just Mercenary Hunters, you alone should be able to take them.”

“What did you just say you bitch? How dare you look down on the Mercenary Hunters. I’ll have you know, just last night we took down a lycan with just the three of us.” The bearded man announced boastfully, as he tried his best to cover his rage from being belittled by a woman.

“Yeah, yeah, are you a dog? How long are you gonna keep barking? Mercenary hunters don’t even have Yakr’s blessing so you're most likely all bark and no bite.” Alrid said as he stepped between Kassdra and the bearded man. With his flintlock pistol primed, he pulled his hood back revealing a boyish face that still hadn’t lost most of its baby fat and short curly blond hair.

The bearded Mercenary Hunter was shocked by how child-like this church servant looked; but that shock soon turned to fury as he realized that he had just been mocked by a child who should have been still sucking on his mother’s tits. The only words that left his mouth were “You Brat!” before he began charging at Alrid.

Raising his right pistol, Alrid used the barrel to divert the Mercenary hunter’s crushing overhand blow, thoroughly surprising his attacker. Then from his coat he produced a second pistol and trains on the man’s chest. But before Alrid could pull the trigger, a small black object flew by and knocked the pistol’s barrel off course, causing his shot to miss. Looking at where the object had flown to, Alrid saw a bent kitchen knife embedded in the tavern wall.

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“Enough! I don’t know what’s with all the racket, but I can’t work in these conditions!” A scrawny man with an eye patch who looked to be in his early thirties bellowed as he emerged from the back of the tavern. He looked at the scene before him, and turned to the bearded Mercenary Hunter and the pot bellied man.

“William and Markus you’re paying for the damages,” The man declared as he pulled out two kitchen knives, “and Markus don’t try to blame it on William or the two strangers. You always like to start fights and piss people off.”

Now turning to Alrid and Kassdra he asked in a slightly cold voice: “Now you Church Hunters should know better! Using a beast hunting weapon on people! Are you trying to paint the restaurant in his blood? Do you even know how long it takes to scrub it all off?”

Kassdra who had  also noticed the flying kitchen knife, bowed in apology: “ We are very sorry for the mess that we caused.”

“You better be.” The man remarked; his rage calming noticeably.

“You seem to be the only sensible person here. If you wish for us to pay repair fees we will gladly pay.”

“Nah, they caused it.”

“Then I have one question if you would be so kind to hear it?” Kassdra asked bowing deeper.

“Go ahead.” The man replied nonchalantly.

“We are here in search of a man named Merek; have you heard of him?” Kassdra asked, as she straightened up from bowing, catching the brief signs of surprise on the man’s face.

“Yes, I know him, he is a good friend of mine. I’ll take you to see him.” the man quickly replied, before turning to a grey haired old man by the tavern bar counter and saying: “Oi Old Gregson, I’ll be heading out for the day, so you can cut my pay!”

“Alright Alex, but you better be here on time tomorrow morning.” The old man replied.

Without even taking off his stained apron, Alex stepped out of the tavern door, leaving only one sentence: “Follow me.”

The three treked through the winding snake-like streets of Wallston, turning left, and right, going from dark covered allies, to densely populated avenues. Alrid had stopped bothering to count the roads they took; instead, he started to stare fixedly at Alex. He had little trust in Alex: someone who can throw a poorly balanced kitchen knife with such accuracy and timing is definitely not as he seems. Silently he readied his pistols under his robe, and glanced towards Kassdra. Their gazes met and they nodded.

“Stop!” Kassdra commanded as the trio turned from a residential street into a damp ally.

“What is it? Have we almost arrived at Merek’s place?” Alex asked.

“Don’t play us, we have been through this alley three times!”

“Alright, I’ll no longer play the fool. Why are you looking for Merek?” Alex asked.

“It’s none of your business you scheming…” Alrid began, but was cut off by Kassdra, “I am sorry for our suspicious appearance, but we are truly from the church in search of Merek.”

“But why?” Alex pressed trying to keep the conversation on track.

“We are here to recruit him to the hunters.” Kassdra answered reluctantly.

“Then you two can go back, Merek doesn’t wish to work for the church.” Alex claimed.

“How would you know?!” Alrid demanded and was surprised when, instead of Alex, Kassdra replied: “ He would know, I’ll get straight to the point, since he is Merek.”

“Oh and how did you come to this conclusion?” Alex, or Merek asked.

“Firstly your knife skills are abnormally good, hitting a target from that far with a shabby kitchen knife is not something anyone can do.” Kassdra began, “ Secondly you're horrible poker face gave you away, you couldn’t mask the shock from hearing your true name. Then there is leading us around the town on a wild goose chase, your movements and blending into a crowd, it was a textbook example of how hunters are able to camouflage themselves.  Finally that eye patch isn’t hiding a blind eye is it, Old Hunter Merek?”

Alex, or Merek, looked into Kassdra’s determined eyes and sighed. He untied the eye patch string and removed the cloth covering his right eye.

“You know us Old Hunters well, little girl.” Merek said, his voice growing more ancient as he slowly opened his right eye, “ All of us Old Hunters have some characteristics of the beasts due to their blood in our veins, be it a tail, or scales for skin. I got off lucky, the contamination only took my right eye.”

Kassdra froze as she saw Merek's eye, the retort she had formed about her being a little girl was lodged in her throat. The man’s right eye was a pale yellow like a wheat field right before harvest. The pupil, which was accentuated by the color of the iris, was the color of ravens as it formed a narrow slit like that of a snake’s eye.

“I take it you should also know the history between us and the church. So I’d advise you to leave.” Merek warned his eyes staring deeply, unblinkingly, at Kassdra.

Despite shivering from the tingle that crawled up her spine, the same feeling she would feel from facing strong foes, Kassdra did not falter. She took a step closer to Merek, and repeated what the Cardinal advised her to say: “ I know your kind are not merely tools to be used and then thrown away. The church is to blame for your misfortune. Therefore, we will not ask for forgiveness, because there is nothing we can do to amend our faults.”

“It is good you understand; then it is best you leave. I still have a job to get back to.” Merek spat, as he began to leave.

“But,” Kassdra interjected as she raised her hands blocking Merek’s path, “we can offer you a deal; a deal that could lead to the discovery of the origins of the beasts. Is this not what you and your comrades had been searching for?”

“Little girl, do you have any idea what you are saying? I do not like empty promises.” Merek asked his voice tinged with sight bits of annoyance. Then he turned to Alrid and in a mocking tone he spoke: “ I know your hands have been holding onto those pistols for a while now, you sure you want to fight me, little boy?”

“Alrid stand down!” Kassdra roared as she turned and slapped Alrid arms causing two flintlock pistols to fly out from the sleeves of his church robe. Then turning to Merek she pulled out a small envelope from her robe and said: “ I apologize for my companion's actions; he had my best interests in mind. Now back on topic, it is not an empty promise, I even have an official letter from the Cardinal.”

After handing the letter to Merek, Kassdra watched as he skimmed through the contents. She had been nervous from the very first word she had spoken to him, she had been just keeping it bottled up. After all it was the fate of her town on the line. Therefore, when Merek burst into a sudden fit of laughter, she almost jumped out of her skin.

“I hate it, but do I have a choice? I guess not.” he grumbled as he folded and put away the letter.

Extending a hand out towards Kassdra, Merek declared: “I guess I’ll take you up on that offer… Tell me your name little girl and that boy too.”

“It’s Kassdra, and this is my partner Alrid; Welcome to the Church Hunters.” She said, taking Merek’s hand in relief.