The moss-ridden, creaking wood of the bar cried under each heavy step, the noise of clattering metal going out in bursts from my plate metal boots. It felt like any plank of wood in this place could break under the weight of myself in full plate armour. The rest of the bar was not in much better condition than the floor. The paint on the walls were missing in several spots or even lack of a wall at all with countless holes in the walls from adventurers with attack skills getting rowdy. The patrons all reeked of sweat, alcohol, and despair. I loathed this dilapidated establishment emblematic of the slums of the city, but it was the favorite of a certain someone who I wanted to track down.
Stomping up to the long counter and letting myself rest on a tall, creaky wooden stool next to my target, the vice guild leader, who had recently passed out drunk, was sleeping restfully sitting with her head lying on the counter covered by her messy, long scarlet hair. She was similarly armoured like myself, metal covering her body, yet numerous dents dotted it from lack of maintenance. A large steel bastard sword in its scabbard hung from her back while a short sword hung from her waist. “Hey, wake up, I need to talk to you,” I spoke with the most calm voice I could muster for the situation she put me in. She did not answer, not even able to recognize I was there. Dammit, I have to go that route again. I secretly despaired about the cost of health potions and armour repair as I picked up a crude knife beside her into the hold of my left hand to preserve my dominant arm for what was to come. Aiming at the gap in her arms towards her neck, I suddenly saw the ceiling as I was knocked to the ground in an instant and pain roared from my chest and left arm. Blood came bursting out of my mouth as I struggled to pull my head up. Let’s see… huge dent in my chestplate… cannot move my left arm… countless bits of metal around me from what was previously my left gauntlet… fuck.
“Oi captain, you surprised me there! Why’d ya have to scare me like dat?” A gruff voice rang out. She stood over my left side, her sole eye peering at me. The other was covered by a black eye patch. She was in her early thirties, although she herself still acted as she did in her twenties. On her dark green face, scars ran across her nose, jaw, and what was once her left eye. Long fangs protruded from her lower set of teeth, poking out of her mouth. Suffice it to say, she was an orc.
“You fuckin–,” I paused as a fit of coughs came over me. “Nevermind, I knew this was going to happen.” I let out a deep sigh before speaking once more, “This is about the ‘little’ thing you did behind my back.” With those words, the tension of the room immediately rose as many patrons scurried out, me having said those words that all the regulars knew meant trouble. “Thing I did behind yer back, huh? I have no idea whatsa talkin’ about,” she said feigning ignorance.
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My blood pressure immediately rose as she played innocent. “I am the people you sent to tail Dead Man’s Party expedition that are going to the new dungeon! What are you trying to do?!?” I roared, the pent up stress releasing from my body as I grabbed the shoddy counter with my right arm to pull myself up, leaving an imprint off my hand in the wood as I stood up. “Oooooh dat. Well… er… I can explain… you see captain… well…,” she wilted under my glare. Despite the fact she was stronger than myself, the intimidating aura that emitted from my wrath-filled glare stirred fright in her as she was reminded of her days when she just was but a grunt of the guild. I, recognizing her talent, personally taught her using the same regime the previous guild leader put me through to be chosen as the vice leader. Let’s just say she did not enjoy the experience too much.
“Spit. It. Out. Now,” I commanded, not letting up the pressure, letting her suffocate in it. “Well… Huh… Uh… The knife-ears came snoopin’ around the city… for da new dungeon, yeah? Real interested in it. Said it had to do with something with a… er… divination from da Gaia’s Garden Dungeon,” she stammered. “I thought that da dungeon must have something to it, so… well... I er… sent people to steal it.” A nervous laugh came from her mouth as she avoided eye contact. I myself sat in stunned silence. While it was the response that I knew was coming, I was perhaps subconsciously denying it, not wanting it to be true. This sort of thing was common among the lesser guilds, tailing the parties sent to claim a dungeon and stealing the dungeon right under their noses, but not among the top guilds. The reason for this was, well, it commonly sparked guild wars, conflicts that, albeit not outright violent, were nonetheless damaging to a guild. It could be called a cold war of sorts, the opposing guilds fighting each other indirectly through subterfuge, although it is not uncommon for lesser guilds to skirmish in the streets before the city guard could arrive.
“Fuck! Its not like I cannot call them off now since I have no fucking idea where the dungeon is! If they step in first and get the title as the discoverers of the dungeon, then I am going to have to conduct a whole ass war with the Dead Man’s Party Guild! You know how much work that is!” She was becoming a mass of goo at this point, wobbling and sweating enough to make a pond around her. She could not muster a word in response as my mind, to perhaps preserve my sanity, blanked from the frustration. I sat motionless for a second before a mad cackle came from my mouth as I clasped my right hand on her shoulder.
Looks like someone was going to have to go through training again.