The door to the tavern slammed open as a young man was tossed out into the early evening. The man rolled on the ground for a few moments, coming to a stop several meters away. “And don’t ya be comin’ back evah!” A large man, who looked like a horned beast, snorted after confirming that the troublemaker was dealt with. He dusted his hands and turned back, letting the door swing shut on its own. The building was only one of the many pubs, gambling facilities, and eateries to be found in Alibose, if not the rowdiest.
The young man picked himself up to a sitting position, checking around frantically for a moment before finding his yellow furred tail with a brown tuft on the end. He pulled it to his chest, only to stare back at the tavern for a moment. “And a goodbye to you, ya cheating, backstabbing pigs!” It was not his fault that the pot just so happened to fall into his hand once more. It was only the tenth time in a row that this had occurred, but it was not due to some low sleight-of-hand that he had won so much. No, it was only because the man known as Solair Throm was extremely lucky.
Solair picked himself up and dusted off his now torn trousers. He sighed. He would once again have to repair them, since he would not be able to afford new ones. The ‘sore-losers’ inside confiscated his winnings, and what he did manage to keep hold of was only enough for about a week’s worth of room and board. He turned and made his walk of shame down the street toward his humble apartment, grumbling about how it would have been much easier if he was still in the employ of the King.
As he walked, his mind quickly started to wander, as it usually did. He thought back to his unit, a motley crew that shared their age in common. They were all really young, and, in their superiors’ eyes, disposable. That meant that they were able to get in, get out, and no one really knew the wiser. They were so successful, the eight of them, that they had received many honors during war time. However, as Solair had learned, honors meant nothing when trying to make a living. And even his incredible luck was not enough to keep him from having to scrounge for a living.
He had turned to gambling, not so much that it was his lifestyle, but enough to pay some pre-war outstanding debts. As he paid those off, he thought that maybe he could make enough to get through life comfortably. That is when things had picked up, only to come crumbling down. That was the fickle approach of luck: the more you have, the crazier your life would be. All he had earned was claimed from him, as more and more establishments seemed to accept the only explanation that seemed to make sense, which was that he was cheating. They could never prove it, but they did not want to accept the truth. Soliar was one of the only people that he was aware of that held a Luck stat of over 500.
As the brown, spikey-haired youth arrived near his home, he remembered what his best friend had always told him: Don’t rely on just luck. Sometimes, you have to put in the hard work as well to get your desired result. Ahhh, he missed that white-haired annoyance sometimes.
“... Wait…” Solair stopped, glancing towards the bench across the street from his abode. He was certain he had not been drinking that much, but there was a man sitting on that bench that looked exactly like his friend. “... Maybe I had more than I thought…?”
“Solair.” The person in question said, standing and approaching the now confused ruffian. “You look like you’ve been dragged through the pig’s sty.”
Blinking his deep blue eyes a few times to make sure he was not hallucinating, Solair gawked at the other youth. “...Taurik?”
A few minutes later, the two found themselves sitting at a table in a small tavern. Solair heartily dug into his steak, potatoes, and carrots, washing the food down with a gulp of ale every few moments. While he couldn’t have purchased such a meal on his own, tonight was an offering from the other man.
Taurik sat, a steaming cup of tea in hand and a small kettle nearby. Solair noticed his friend watching the food disappear from the plate. However, It was not until the food was completely gone and another tankard of ale set down in front of him that the scrappy man looked up at his much better dressed friend.
“So… What brings you down to this pit of existence? What, your lady friend kick you to the curb, dumping you in the process? Or maybe you just decided to descend from your lofty heights for one last ‘I told you so’?”
Taurik sat silent for a few seconds, seeming to think carefully over his words. He reached a conclusion and simply stated “I need your help.”
“My help?” Solair was at a loss for words. He had never even heard this hardworking knight ask for help before. Even during war times, the then barely adult paladin always seemed to have a way to solve his, and everyone else’s, problems. Solair’s blue cat-eyes looked deep into Taurik’s teal, human ones, searching for some sort of sign on his face that would reveal the joke that was almost certainly being played. When nothing changed in the sincere, almost haunted, gaze, the gambler sighed, “How bad is it?”
“I think there is something going on with the farmer, and the chicken is missing right now.” Taurik downed his cup like a man trying to down his worries. Since the beverage was only tea, it would not be very effective. “I want to check the fence for holes. Figured we could get the family all in on it.”
Solair nodded for a moment before taking another sip from his tankard. Taurik was speaking in code, the one that he and the rest of their group had invented while fighting together on the front-lines, being a combination of hand gestures and seemingly random words. What his friend meant was that something big was going down and that he did not trust his hierarchy. It also meant that he wanted to get the team back together to investigate.
Taurik looked around cautiously. When his gaze fell back to the beastkin, the situation began to make more sense. “... I see. Well, why don’t we settle down before the cock crows? In the early light, we can find that chicken.” Should we set out now? It might be better to wait for the morning.
“The wolves have been out.” We need to hurry.
Solair sighed. “All the more reason to check the gates, lest we lose the rest of the flock.” I’ll need to get ready, otherwise I won’t be of any help.
“Then it’s settled. By the passing light, we call on the family. Walk the path then see the street.” Understood. We’ll meet in an hour to head for the others. Meet up at the stables.
“Then it’s settled.” Understood. Solair sighed again as the holy knight stood, leaving a few coins on the table, and left the establishment without another word. After downing the rest of his ale, the beastkin stood and walked to the stairs at the back of the hall. An investigation into a possible betrayal within the King’s own court? This was something that could pay out quite well. Besides, he thought, I was just complaining that I might want to return to the King’s service, right?
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
He chuckled and took the stairs two at a time, but not before he noticed a cloaked figure watching him carefully. By the time he reached his floor, Solair was frowning to himself. Was that figure after Taurik? Or maybe the syndicates were trying to press the man himself for secrets into his winning streaks? What? It had happened before.
Either way… guess the front door is out. Maybe I’ll have to use my… ‘emergency’ exit? The man thought nothing more of it, quickly finding his humble apartment. The room and alcove were small, cozy, and spotless. The generic bedclothes adorned the thin, hay mattress. The desk had nothing upon its top except for a single key, and its chair was tucked in. The walls were bare and the floor was as smooth as could be. The chamber pot tucked away in one corner of the alcove was as clean as such things could be. There was a single hung window in the room currently barred from the outside, the shades drawn in front of it. If one did not know any better, it would look like no one lived here.
Solair made sure his tail was inside the room before he shut the door quietly behind him. He locked it tight then made his way over to the desk. He pulled the chair out and reached underneath it to pull a small chest loose. He set the box on the desk, looking down at it fondly for a moment, and then opened it. Inside, there were several items.
A nice pair of short, dark leather boots adorned with faintly etched rings in the sides sat on one part of the box. A fresh pair of black trousers and a dark grey tunic sat folded just above the boots. A black and grey jacket with short sleeves, a grey-white trim, and a hood was folded next to the tunic, with a pair of fingerless black and grey gloves lying atop it. Just below those sat a pair of deep red leather satchels with several crown and key-like shapes etched into the sides, and finished off the outfit.
Standing, Solair quickly stripped out of his now ruined outfit, and began to dress himself into the new one from the chest. While he did not have the funds to purchase new clothes, he did still have his attire from the war. Because he was a conscript that joined a special task force, he did not have any of the usual markings that would be present on the everyday footsoldier. Instead, the insignia of the Kingdom was imprinted on a badge that he would always wear when performing his job. In fact, that same badge still sat in one of the two aforementioned satchels, now only a keepsake.
He adjusted the clothes on his frame, and made sure his tail was comfortably sitting in the specially made slot in his pants. Solair sighed a little as he realized that the clothes were ever-so snug. He would have to get them altered some day, and he hoped it would be sooner rather than later. It was difficult for one such as himself to get perfectly fitting clothes in this part of the world, after all.
The gambling beastkin reached into one of the satchels, pulling out two belts which he immediately strapped on so that they sat crossed over his hips. He then buckled one satchel to each leg, checking to make sure they were now snuggly closed. Then, the man walked over to his bed and reached under the mattress to produce a single, wide-blade sword.
The hilt was wrapped in tan leather, the pommel made out of a white-silver metal, appearing to be delicately wrapped around itself like a snake. Sported off the end of the pommel was several strands of that same white-silver metal, braided into a sword knot, and tied off with a five-pointed star, golden-yellow in color. The sheath holding the blade was also tanned leather with what looked like a lion’s mane lining the top. The sword belt went over his half closed jacket, hooking into the belt on his left side.
Fully ready, Solair took the remains of his prior outfit and stuffed them into one of the satchels. He then went to the door and pressed his slightly pointed, furred ears to it. Let’s see… Someone is out there… and I hear them tapping on doors. Must be some kind of location ability… Lucky for me, it seems like I was quick enough getting ready that they haven’t found my room… yet. The beastkin sighed once more, but turned and went to the window, grabbing the key from the desktop as he went. He glanced between the shades, seeing what he could of the street. While it did not seem like there were others in the area, that did not mean that they were not there.
Solair opened the window sash and reached down to a small padlock on the bars. He deftly unlocked it with the small key and pushed them open, stepping out onto the bar’s frame. Balancing there, the beastkin lowered the sash to shut behind him and then climbed up the wall a little. Using his natural claws on one hand to cling to the wall, he then reached down and closed the bars as quietly as possible, hearing a *click* as the latch caught, locking the window up tight once more. His work done, he continued his way to the roof, where he then made his way along the rooftops in the direction of the stables…
*************
I hope I took enough of a detour to lose any tail I may have had, Taurik thought as he leaned against the stable wall. He adjusted his gauntlets while he waited, a nervous gesture on his part. Seeking out Solair first was essential, but given his penchant for getting into trouble, there was always some risk involved. In fact, if the young beastkin, more particularly a lionkin, did not have the information on the whereabouts of their other friends, he would have left him for last.
And tonight contained a decent amount of risk as well. As soon as he had parted ways with his friend, the paladin noticed that there were several cloaked figures watching the tavern: one inside, and four outside. As he walked down the street and turned a corner, he snuck a quick look towards them and noticed that two of them had followed him out of the tavern, leaving the rest behind.
This semi-lawless town known as Alibose did not have regular patrols, as peace was kept by the various criminal groups around. They would protect their own territories with their agents, and punish those who would dare cause trouble, criminal or otherwise. There was an official guard of the city, but they only responded to the group that paid them the most, and never stuck their noses into anyone’s business. Because of this, Taurik had known that he would not be able to rely upon the city guard, but also knew that his anonymity would be safer here than in most other towns.
Any newbie would not last long out here. But Taurik was no newbie, as he applied his training to change up his path, even going as far as head the opposite direction from his destination. He had changed directions frequently, using a couple opportunities to quicken his pace for a few moments after turning a corner. Ultimately, his tail was lost after he turned one corner in particular and sprinting down to duck into an alley, blending into the shadows behind some crates. These shadows seemed to deepen around him as the royal guard activated his ability, Shadow Meld. The goons passed by moments later, glancing in his direction, but seeing nothing, they continued on.
A few moments later, Taurik had stepped out of the alley, glancing cautiously in the direction that the goons had gone. He then quickly made his way to the stables, where he now waited. Solair should not be too far behind, and given the Luck Stat alone that the lionkin possessed, the likelihood of nothing ill befalling him was greatly reduced. In fact, now that I am thinking about it, the paladin pondered, he should arrive right about… now!
True to his thoughts, a shadow dropped down from the roofs on the other side of the street. Although the man was no longer dressed in the other outfit, the figure before Taurik was one from his memories, albeit a little taller. Quickly, his friend crossed the road towards him. “Been waiting long, friend?” The mirth on the lionkin’s face seemed to already know the answer.
“Not really.” Taurik decided to just be forthcoming instead of messing with Solair. He pushed away from the wall as he continued, “We both know you always show up at just the right moment. Well then… Shall we?” At his beckoning, the two men entered the stables. Taurik had previously acquired the horses for their use, which they now saddled up and mounted, leaving through the eastern gate only moments later.
Soon, my lady, Taurik thought, Soon, I’ll come to find out the truth of what had happened…