Mr. Richard thought it was about time to make his exit.
One glance at the anxious and, far worse, interested faces surrounding him was enough to tell him there was no salvaging the situation. Either he denied them and invited salacious rumors of all kinds or…nothing. He didn’t have any other options. It was made clear to him that whatever was going on in his basement was the guilds’ business. As bad as losing confidence with his business partners would be, standing against the guilds was undoubtedly worse.
“This isn’t up for debate! Leave or we’ll make you leave!” Simone snapped.
“Oh?” The elf stretched her arms over her head, like someone preparing for a bout of exercise. “That sounds fun.”
“Don’t get too excited, love. They’re not actually going to do anything to us. Rat bastards, remember?” Mr. Richard didn’t know how but the Tome woman had a drink in her hand. She took a long swig of it before continuing. Juice, judging by the plain mug. “Don’t know about the others. This doesn’t strike me as a group of people with experience defending themselves.”
“The others can speak for themselves.” A gentleman in a simple jacket with worn cuffs stepped out of the crowd. Mr. Richard didn’t recognize his face, but he knew the bearing of a warrior. Even if he didn’t, the man’s audacity to speak into the tense atmosphere would have clued the merchant to the fact that he had to be possessed of some power, whether it be martial, magical, or influential.
“I for one am tired of the guilds doing whatever they want in this city. I accepted that you had guild backers, but I won’t be caught in the middle of whatever nonsense has men burning down good stores. Now, Mr. Richard. Either you shall show us this basement and explain the guilds interest in merchant affairs or you can forget any cooperation with myself.”
Seeing as he didn’t even recognize the man, Mr. Richard would have been more than happy to let him go on his way. The problem was the crowd that agreed with him, growing by the moment. Several men full of bravado and ego congregated around the instigator, voicing their own demands for transparency. Originally at him but, as he pointedly stepped behind Simone, eventually to the hunter. It was a tough situation with no elegant solutions.
Then the damn Tome woman had to make it worse.
“This party is over—"
“Oh, we can’t have that.”
The noblewoman cut the consul off by slipping between him and the crowd. “Not when things are finally getting exciting. I say…we give the people what they want!”
A shadow passed over Mr. Richard’s head. He had just enough time to look up and see a scandalous view of the elf before a soft green glow covered her body and she dropped, crashing through the floor. The crowd gasped and exclaimed excitedly, backpedaling away from the hole. The noblewoman met his gaze and winked at him before following. Simone cursed and sprinted across the room, the hunters with him right on his heels as they took the more conventional route to the lower floor.
Silence reigned for many minutes. Some of the braver guests, including the man who had spoken up, crept forward, intending to look down the hole. Mr. Richard couldn’t deny he was just as curious, but age had sapped the foolishness from his bones. He’d long learned to let others take the risks and capitalize off whatever they found out. As such, he took another step backward. A decision he was grateful for as the first explosion shook the floor.
It was a small thing. The merchant didn’t even stumble. Much more problematic was the gout of fire that sprouted out of the hole. The flames barely escaped the confines of the basement and were gone a moment later, but it was enough to scare the crowd, fear replacing their curiosity. The hunters in the room waved them back while others jumped down the hole, taking the most expedient route to the trouble.
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Mr. Richard joined the herd stampeding toward the exit, letting the press of bodies push him forward while pondering his luck. It wasn’t good that his celebration had been interrupted and his guests endangered but, thankfully, Simone had stepped forward. When people thought back to the source of the trouble, they would blame the guilds. He wouldn’t win any points being associated with them, but he also wouldn’t be blamed for any casualties, at least not by the more reasonable amongst his peers.
And maybe, if he talked fast, he could use the mess to wrangle a few more benefits out of the Wolves. After all, they had strong-armed him into the night’s arrangement with promises that their business wouldn’t interfere with his own. Well, the night had certainly been interfered with and he wouldn’t be much of a merchant if he didn’t bleed the ones responsible for as much as he could.
If he survived the night.
He ran away from one threat and into another. The crowd around him paused and he followed their gazes, his heart pounding rapidly as what should have been a dark sky was lit nearly as bright as day by multiple fires. Mr. Richard watched with wide eyes as part of a building encased in angry flames collapsed, kicking up a wave of dust as it hit the street.
“What the fuck is going on in this crazy city?” someone shouted over the crowd that stood in frightened rigor. Mr. Richard was also stumped. A few moments ago, his course of action seemed simple. Leave his building to avoid it going up in flames. Yet, instead of running to safety, he’d run into more trouble. At least, trouble stood between him and anywhere else. Given the spread of the flames, the only safe direction was out of the city, though that wasn’t particularly safe either. No beasts would dare wander so close to the walls, but he didn’t like the idea of wandering about in the dark. It was practically asking for trouble.
But he didn’t have any options. He could either run away from the fire, toward it, or stand amongst the petrified bodies mesmerized by the flames. A long life had taught the merchant that there was nothing more dangerous than standing amidst a mob and he didn’t have the strength to run into disasters. So, he ran for the gate and the guards that should be guarding it. It wouldn’t be a comfortable few hours but he wasn’t so fragile a cold night would send him to an early grave.
“Father?”
At once, Mr. Richard felt all his worries about letting his second son inherit his meager fortune settle as he spotted the young man and his sister huddled together with a few others as well as the two guards meant to be guarding the gate. His eyes flicked over them as he approached, noting with much relief that neither had any injuries. Whatever faults Bertrand had, he knew how to take care of his family.
“I tried to reach the guards but—"
“Don’t worry about that.” It was obvious enough why his son had chosen a different action. “We’ll stay here until—"
His words were drowned out by a loud explosion. The roar of sound was accompanied by a tall pillar of flame shooting into the night sky, an unnatural green in color. The merchant blanched as he recognized the sign of particularly powerful alchemical fire and said a silent prayer to the saints asking that it hadn’t been his warehouse, and all of his pricey goods just destroyed. The black smoke, visible even against the dark sky, was an ominous sign of the events to come. “We’ll stay here until the city does something about this mess. Need be, we’ll follow the wall to the southern gate. The whole city can’t be burning.”
“Why haven’t they put it out already?” his daughter whined. Normally, he couldn’t stand her incessant complaints and demands, but, seeing her standing in the darkness while hugging herself, completely unprepared for the lingering chill in the air and fear plain across her face, his heart softened. Ignoring his own discomfort, he shrugged off his own jacket and handed it to her. Bertrand shrank at the gesture, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. Something had already happened to his jacket, and no one would judge him for not handing over his shirt. The fact that he judged himself anyway was why Mr. Richard thought of the boy as his favorite.
“It’s not as simple as throwing around a little water. Some fires can’t be extinguished, only contained. Then of course there’s the matter of rescuing those trapped by the blaze. Even for a master caster, it must be a struggle.” There would certainly be incalculable damage in the morning, both in crowns and lives.
“That doesn’t take into account fighting whatever or whoever started the fire.” The guard who had spoken shrugged when people turned to him. “We’re all thinking it, yeah? We’ve known this city was headed for war for weeks. Looks like it’s started and the guilds aren’t keeping it contained like they promised. Damn hunters.”
A city with an incompetent guard, guilds warring with the forces of the north, and an indisposed lord with no ability to bring order to the dangerous chaos. It screamed of liabilities and bad business. No matter what the morning brought, Mr. Richard decided it was a good time to go on vacation.
As another plume of smoke and fire appeared deeper in the city, the merchant changed his short vacation to an impromptu change of residence.