“Bahaha!” Castrada graciously laughed; “That is quite silly, hon.”

“Yeah…” Nine’s eyes evaded embarrassedly. “It’s kind of dumb, but… Finding out that a lemon is actually some freakish monster made from cedrate and an orange actually broke my world for a while… Like, mankind invented lemons? What??”

“Oranges too.” Castrada thus stated. “They aren’t natural neither. Shaddock and mandarin make a baby orange, sweet or bitter depending on who’s the mommy mandarin.”

“…” Nine looked at Castrada as if having been undone… “Alrightly… Wow… So, basically every fruit is some kind of…freakish inbred monster-child… Yeek…” She shivered as if her stomach twisted; “I don’t think I’ll be able to look at them the same ever again…” She was perhaps exaggerating a little; she did find such weird, granted, though nothing truly stomach-wrenching. She was just following the conversation’s flow.

They had been chatting for almost half-an-hour by now, perhaps longer. Throughout this, Nine was keeping things casual, natural, and a little random; nothing deep or revealing. She was establishing cordiality and comfort. Initial impressions mattered significantly and could even determine the entire outcome of the job; little reasons had to be given to distrust, suspect, or doubt. While nervousness and social awkwardness were usually poor first impressions for many, in this case such had served to Nine’s benefit, for Castrada was seeing her as cutesy, silly, and harmless.

Nine was just a wee lassy girl, and she wanted to ensure that the target felt comfortable with being more open. Of course, in order to bring about openness, she herself had to be open; for social interactions were reciprocal feedbacks of effect and affect.

“Huh, huh!” Castrada was humored by Nine’s show. “Well, if thou be findin’ that to be twirlin’, wait ‘til thou hearst of the tragedy that be the New World Banana.”

“Ba… Banana?” Nine tilted her head… “…what’s… Uhm… What is… What is that? What is a ‘banana’?” She genuinely wanted to know.

Castrada’s cheeks inflated as a single but pronounced chuckle came bursting. “Thou dostn’t know what a banana is? Humorful! I forget that most don’t!” Castrada leaned in closer with kind of a snickering smile; “Well, Novy… A banana be like a man’s tail, except yellow and pleasanter to the mouth.”

“…oh…” Nine forced a humored smile, not necessarily finding actual humor in that comment though she certainly went with it; “That’s funny…” She proceeded to take a sip of her drink… “Oof…” Her lips shriveled; “Still sour…”

Indeed, it was some kind of citrus drink; Nine had presumed it was going to be orangey, though in reality was lime and lemony; sweet but maybe too sour to her liking, whence the catalyst to this discourse of fruits. It was amongst the few specialty non-alcoholic beverages, having costed her two golds. She probably could have opted for a cheaper option, however she did not necessarily like to drink unless it was unavoidable or necessary.

As their bantering continued onwards, Nine gradually shifted their talk to more focused interests; keeping things naturally flowing while keeping herself friendly, charming, and comfortable. In many ways, this was not a job; she was just talking to someone. They talked about the trades, about merchanting, some of the places they had been to, and such. And the more this progressed, the more confident Nine was that Castrada was, indeed, her target; eventually, she felt that she had coiled around him enough.

“You really must be a good trade…lady-man.” Nine sighed, voice almost lamenting… “You’ve robbed me of most of my coin…”

“Hey, sweetness. I be only giving thee what thou requested. And it be thee who valued those juices.” Castrada replied, giggly.

“I suppose flavor’s more convincing than charming words…” Nine just said, looking at that cup which had been refilled more times than she cared to admit… Maybe she actually had more a sour-tooth than she had thought.

She proceeded to remain silent for a little, creating a sense of…having run out of things to talk about. Castrada, meanwhile, simply tapped fingers whilst gazing out to the rest of this brothel. Trailing closer to noon, it was now emptier and thus quieter; the only other conversating whispers were that of the bored staff.

Nine huffed a little, smiling. “Sorry, hah. I had a mind-freeze there.” she finally spoke; “Uhm… I was just thinking, since…you said you’re part of the city merchants’ guild… Uhm… Do you happen to know what happened to the Adventurers’ Guild here?”

“Huh? The Adventurers’ Guild?” Castrada looked at her with a slightly frowny expression… “And for why this be brought up now, girly?”

“Well… I heard that the Strawberrien Guild hall was…pretty good, so I was…hoping to…visit it…” Nine timidly answered… “But when I…came here, it was…gone, so… It’s left me wondering…”

“…” Castrada stared at her. “Oh, Novy… Please don’t tell that be the cause for why thou hast come all the way to our Strawberry…”

“Heh, heh…” Nine guiltily tickled the side of her neck… “Yeah… I was thinking about this for a while, but… Well, with the Coastfield Adventurers’ Guild…” She tensed a little… “You know what happened there, so…” She ahemed; “I figured Strawberry would be…the better starting place, so…”

Castrada crossed her arms, giving her that kind of frank stare; “Thou thought tracking thyself through a shattered realm would’ve been better for opportunity?”

“…yeah… I heard Strawberry was the safest place in Huckleberry, but… Really, I wasn’t really thinking… I lost my home, so…” Nine remarked, mellow…

“Ah… A flighter, huh?” Castrada thus sighed; “That explaineth much, yah… Though, a flighter from Coastfield; I’d never expect that… So far…” they so remarked… “Tragedy that was, though… What happened to Coastfield… And a warning…” Castrada’s mouth snapped with a click to the tongue; “Well, anyways. Yes… The Adventurer Guild be here no more. Their hall was closed down, and deservingly so. Should’ve happened well before the count’s concerns, yah… Well before.”

“…you don’t like the Adventurers’ Guild? I thought…everyone like it?” Nine naively tilted her head…

Castrada huffed with a humored chuckle; “Oh, my dearest missy… Thou hast traveled many a plenty, but remainst a wee so naive, yah. Born in a village or somethin’, mayst thou be?” Castrada was frank even if cordial. “No. I do not like their guild, and many do not. And, I don’t wantin’ to be rude, girly, but… Neither should thou… like the Guild.”

“Why?” Now began the true challenge of any job: feigning emotions Nine simply was not experiencing. “Adventurers…help people, don’t they?”

“Hm.” Yet Castrada’s arms remained crossed. “Let me tell thee, missy, what the Strawberrien Adventurer Guild was up to… ‘Collection quests’, thou’st heard of them, no?”

“…those are quests where you get paid for…collecting stuff?” Nine naively answered.

“Oh, yah. That be the framing.” Castrada so remarked; “But in reality, they be a form of unsanctioned commerce. A commissioning agreement between a contracting buyer who hath agreed to prepurchase the wanted goods from the Guild at a set price, whose adventurers then being commissioned to retrieve not as simple contractors but as unwitting commissioned vendors, seriously, from whom the Guild effectively purchaseth their hard collected goods at a considerable markdown…but were still presold to the contracting buyer at the full agreed price, whence the Guild profiteth the difference.”

“Uhuh…” Nine, followingly along, nodded her head in a way that signaled struggling comprehension, even though there was no struggle.

Castrada, noticing, sighed… “Oh, deary, I don’t mean to be borin’ with these whyfor details…” There was a cogitating pause… “I suppose all thou should know is… Because of the playful wordin’ within the Adventurer Guild’s…labyrinthian codes, anything acquired through those collection quests are effectively freed from the codified taxes and tariffs of most cities who haven’t any explicit mentioning of ‘extra-mercantile’ activities ‘nd transportation, making these items unfairly cheapened to the detriment of local suppliers who adhere to mercantile customs… Hence, bad for longevity.”

“I see…” Nine scratched her head a little as if…kind of getting this but also kind of not, even though she knew well enough; for such was the common gripe both vendors and suppliers tended to have with collection quests, even if many benefited from them.

“The Strawberry Adventurer Guild, though, went farther with these exploits, breaking their guild’s own laws.” Castrada continued; “Thou see, they were issuing mass collection quests through fabricated buyers… In reality, they had a wee large warehouse within their hall-space wherein these collected goods were being hoarded. Because of the Guild’s independence, their hall-space is an allowed dominion excluded from many of our laws, including commercial controls and regulations. And thence, they were operating a haven out whence they ‘distributed’ their ‘surplus items’ at maliciously cheapened prices beyond any oversight, directly undercuttin’ registered suppliers and guilded tradesmen… Until the count finally revoked their allowance; we couldn’t do nothin’ before then…”

“Yeesh… Alrightly, that sounds…kind of scummy…” Nine so remarked… “But, and I don’t mean to…insult, but… Isn’t this just how the game works? I mean, I feel that…any merchanting enterprise would do exactly the same if they could get away with it…”

“Oh, for sure… Being a cutthroat be the nature of the trades…” Castrada thus responded; “Hmm… I have a wee many issues with the Adventurer Guild generally; I suppose this one be just the easiest pointer.”

Nine let out a mellow mumble of uncertainty… “I guess, even with all this considered, I…still can’t see…the justification for full expulsion… Adventurers, they still save lives; they…rid our realms of…horrible things—the corruption that has been bleeding since the Fall… Never mind the Demon-King’s invasions, adventurers were always the first to hold…while we awaited the Hero’s coming…”

“Hm. Villages hear the myths; cities interact with the truth… Such a dovey ‘nd accurate proverb, aye?” Castrada so remarked… “There be no problem with adventurers, Novy. As I be tryin’ to…imply, the problem be their guild. It is…rotten.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“…rotten?” Nine tensely tilted her head.

“Oh, thou are one so sweetly naive, enduring…” Castrada’s demeanor began to shift a little more grimly nervous… “But surely everyone knoweth… The Adventurer Guild and their spies that be everywhere, their shadowy ‘birds’… Ever since we gave them the wee boot, there have been problems, and people have gone missing…”

“People you knew…?” Nine’s voice followed the tone.

There was a tension in Castrada’s lips, though did not answer. “It be like this always with that guild. Wherever they be, there are always problems… And it maketh sense, really, from market’s eyes. Their business is solving problems, without which there be no guild; problems that if everyone else could solve, their services be irrelevant.”

“So… Are you…saying that… What? The Guild is…making all of the problems just to solve? Or…?” She retained that naivety.

“No… Not necessarily…” Castrada…anxiously played with their fingers… “But, the fact of the matter is… The ‘Golden Era of Adventuring’, as is called… When the Adventurer Guild flourished most… That was a time when all the thousand realms were…strangled hardest by archaic…terrible governance, perpetual bankruptcy, and…warful division; where villages and towndoms beset by monsters and greenish hoards were without any alternatives because their lord couldn’t be untangled to send his retinues because his lord and his lord’s lord had levied them upwards…”

“Hm…” Nine just listened, letting Castrada speak.

“Those…were terrible times. For everyone… Besides adventurers.” Castrada, indeed, continued; “But now things be changin’; we have gotten better at handlin’ these terrors ourselves. But the Guild dothn’t like that, because, and this be the truth… The Adventurer Guild can only…flourish when things are that terrible; when we are so incapable…”

Nine’s eyes began to drift somewhat; she began to…awkwardly play with her index finger, still listening…

“And I believe it no innate feature of our lands that we’ve been so…cumbersome to follow the rest of this world these past two-hundred years. The Adventurer Guild is ancient; it was once the most powerful…anything in all our realms, and it be the fact of things…that the Guild hath been doing everything in its power…to keep this whole continent…trapped in that past…” Castrada looked into Nine; “And until that guild be dismantled, there shan’t be a future for us; our lands will never see progress.” These words thus concluded.

Nine…remained silent, her eyes still kind of down, as if…feeling and contemplating…

Castrada felt they had gone too far, maybe… “Oh, sorry if my words be hittin’ thee, Novy… I know thou seemed interested… These be my convictions, at least, though I stand by them firmly.”

Yet… “What about…everyone involved? If the Guild is fully gone…” Nine abruptly asked, looking at Castrada… “Weird question, I guess, but… What happens to them?” She did not even know why she was asking this…

“Not weird at all.” Castrada reassured. “Adventurers and those guildy receptionists. I don’t mind them; I’m sure they’ll find a future… But…” There was a shift… “All those spies and assassins, those ‘birds’ and rotten ‘eggs’… Forgive me for being callous, but…I wouldn’t care if they were all thrown into the ocean, made to drown.” Castrada was unapologetically blunt. “As I said… People have disappeared; dead… Realms and families undone. There’s no forgiving that.”

“Hm…” Nine looked away, just silently siting there with fingers tapping… “Yeah… I guess that’s right.” She relooked at Castrada; “I changed my mind…”

“Huh?” Castrada tilted their head… “About?”

“Well, the Guild…” She obviously had not. “And…”—she placed her last gold onto the counter—“A drink—a proper drink…” Nine smiled; “Something tipsy, please…”

-||-

Caw. Caw. Caw.

Such caws came cawing in reply to her hailing whistle; a certain shadowy corvid came flying down from the afternoon sky, landing right onto her shoulder.

“Hey buddy!” Nine so greeted her raven with a fatigued smile; “Missed you so much!” She stroked his feathers, the bird humming his usual affectionate purrs. “It’s been a while…” Her cheeks gently rubbed against her raven’s shadowy soft feathers; “You’re so…fuzzy! Such a handsome boy, love you…”

Nine eventually finished reunitefully snuggling her raven, business promptly resuming. She tied a rolled-up letter, freshly written, onto the corvid’s leg.

“Alrightly. It’s off to maker, buddy-bud. I’ll be heading there shortly.”

Her raven whimpered a little in his corvid fashion, before fluttering his wings and flying off, departing away. Her eyes kept their sight at the sky, watching her bird until he was too far and distant.

In the end… she still did not really know what maker was precisely trying to confirm with that crossdressing burgher; she did not feel that she had extracted anything meaningful, besides the confident confirmation that he was, indeed, the target.

However, she could already speculate…

Someone’s reputation was going to be in for a rough day.

Regardless, this job was done. Now was her time to make her own way back.

With a sigh, Nine thus departed from this rather obscure alley and began to walk, silent yet reflective. It would be a lie to say that Castarda’s words did not linger; such words always did, even if being no new revelation or realization to her. She knew well enough, indeed, the mud underneath the rug.

Even so, she still felt like a terrible person; she was a terrible person, she thus judged herself. However, such was only because the world itself was simply a terrible place, she so judged the world.

Ravens were in a metaphorical death-pact with no way around; if the Guild and its Bureau vanished, they would cease to exist. All she could do was keep flying with the flock until the end.

Yet Nine paused in her walk, having spotted…

A bathhouse, a special kind; the water within was likely steamy and enchanted. She just…stood there, staring at it… Seeing the people entering and leaving, all cleansed and…recuperated.

“…traveler’s stank, huh?” Nine recalled well enough…those remarks. Grumbly, she took a quick sniff of her armpits, immediately grimacing… “Neugh, Raven Mother… Fuck me—actually no don’t…” she muttered to herself… “I seriously could use a bath… And new cloths and…” A different life, frankly…

Truly, despite everything she was, her present hygiene still felt awfully…embarrassing and unbecoming of a girl—never mind detrimental to her job. However, this was no free public bath; she had neither any the remaining coin allocated to her by maker for this job nor most especially the time.

She had to keep moving; thus, she kept walking.

“A break…” Yet such still escaped her muttering breaths, nevertheless.

-||-

“There you are.” he greeted, back leaning against a wall. “You’re late.”

“I know…” she replied, arriving. “Restorationists were blocking the streets to westside; demanded to see my ears and then got upset over my accent; held me up.”

“They didn’t do nothing, rightly?” he asked.

“Besides waste my time, of course not.” she replied; “I keep a hidden dagger on me, anyway.”

“Hm.” He began to walk. “Follow.”

And she followed. The buildings around seemed abandoned, but eyes were clearly peering. This was the same area as the day before; the same route.

“Received your bird.” he thus said; “Great job again.”

“Obviously.” she thus replied; “And thanks…”

“Whelp… You know how this works. Debrief time. Tell me everything you didn’t mention in the letter.”

-|-

“Well, looks like you had a great fun time with that eunuch.” he so remarked; “Real shame you couldn’t do nothing funner, I bet, considering that queer’s missing the essential sack, if you know, haha!”

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” She made obvious that she found no humor. “What did you want to ‘confirm’ from him, anyway? ‘La Castrada’…”

“Eh. Not much, honestly.” He shrugged. “Kinda already had a hunch, but didn’t really have a nice serpentine crow-girl on hand to snake her way in close to really confirm…” he thus spoke. “But now I know for sure, that’s him alright. And someone’s in for a real rough day tomorrow, deservingly.”

“You sure?” She mused. “This is Strawberry… Would they even care?”

“Even Strawberry’s got her limits, honeyshine, especially when things get queer…” he replied. “The great council’s meant for men, and eunuchs aren’t real men—they’re practically girls! And now combine that with lady-dressing at a secret whorehouse job, that one’s a sodomite too! Can’t be a man on a council of power when you let your asshole get dominated by another man!”

“…but I thought eunuchs weren’t ‘real men’ anyway? So…” she pointed out.

“Heh, heh. Yeah, now there’s the contradiction, huh? But that’s exactly what the cutthroats looking to take that prick’s seat will scream.” he so remarked. “That’s politics, baby. Not supposed to make any sense.”

“Hm…” she mumbled, reflecting… “So, is that why you’re here, then?” she abruptly remarked… “Making problems… Being the Guild’s retaliation against the merchant’s guild and their council…”

“Meh. Can’t say for sure. Who knows…” He so shrugged. “I’ve been where for way longer… And what I can say is that they’ve sure been doing that.” he began to thus say. “Hiring gangs and spreading trouble just to fuck with the Company—Yeah. Same reason those merchants hate the Guild, they hate the Company for; except they can’t pull the same shit with United Trade as they did us. So, nothing wrong with them getting a sweet taste back, aye?”

“Hm.” She was plainly tired. “Well, job’s done. So, if that is all, then—”

“No, no… Hang your panties up real quick, I ain’t done…” he quickly said, waving his hand.

She sighed and thus continued to walk along.

Yet he proceeded to go silent for a little… “You know,” he finally recontinued to speak, “You haven't been with me for all that long, and I get the hunch you won’t be here for long neither… But you’ve done real great work, and I’ve been thinking… Must be real fucking shitty for you, being cooped up within that shit-bunker these last few nights. Gotta be a real bitch to your back, rightly?”

“…” She gave him a cold eye, as if already foreseeing…where this was going.

“These parts might be a dumpster, but… I’ve a good place, a good bed, if you wanna stay a night.”

“No.” She immediately rejected. “Maker, we’re not doing this.”

“Yeah, let’s ditch the stupid pretenses…” His voice’s tone followed. “I’ll be straight honest, honeybun. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of going insane here… I’ve been trapped in this slum-quarter for…way too long without another sweet and nice soul to hold in bed. It’s maddening; real fucking maddening.”

She shivered from the grimacing thought. “How? You’re in Strawberry? If you are so…suppressed down there, you can just—”

“My ears, lady, my ears!” He pinched his half-elven ear, jiggling it. “You think I can just leave this quarter like that, huh? And it’s not like they don’t know who I am! Oh, they sure know…”

“Rightly, fine, sure… But why me?” she interrogated, adamantly resistant. “Surely, there are a plenty of prettier elves and desperate women selling themselves here—”

“That’s the thing, honeybun.” he interjected; “Might come as a surprise, but I’ve actually got standards; I ain’t willing go that fucking low.” He waved his arms about. “The elves here, they rely on me. They’ve already got enough rapists and slavers looking to drag them and their daughters off to the markets. I can’t just take advantage of them like that… They all have something redeeming.” He froze his walk and turned around, looking her down. “But you? You’re like me. What the fuck is redeeming about you? It’s your whole line of work! This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve slept with a bumblefuck for a favor, so don’t pretend.”

“Hrm…” She grumbly withdrew her sight…

“You know the game, honeyshine.” he continued. “In this profession, there’s only one way to get whatever you want outside of what you’re allowed: a favor for a favor. And I’m willing to give you a favor; all I’m asking’s one night. That’s it. One night. And I’ll owe you one huge fucking favor. Because it ain’t like I don’t get what I’m asking.”

She remained staunch and adamant in her stature; yet her eyes remained loosely down and frustrated. This was amongst the last thing she would have wanted, yet…

Gods’ sacred toilet… She actually could use that favor; she knew exactly what she wanted.

Exchanging favors was a fairly common, even if unsanctioned, practice for obtaining things outside official purview or…need-to-know. She had exchanged many kinds of favors plenty times before. Yet this time…there was a much deeper apprehension within… As if by this doing, she was betraying someone else. Ludicrous a notation...

Although, actually… Thinking of that certain someone else… Hm… Wait…

Indeed. Suddenly, her heart tingled; an idea entered her head… A very pleasant idea.

Now she really wanted that favor, though obtaining which was the opposite of pleasant… Ugh. In retrospect, she was glad she had taken that drink; its present influence made even considering this so much easier.

“Fine…” she let out a most begrudging acceptance. “Favor for a favor.” She stomped straight to him; “But if we are doing this, maker,” her fingers harshly jabbed his chest, “you will give me that favor. No matter what.” she spoke threateningly; “You so try to sliver your way out, I promise you, I will…” Her voice slowed, her eyes peeking behind him… “Will…” She paused, ears noticing…

Footsteps. Many of them. Rushing and stomping. Fast and belligerent.