The three cautiously walked over the hill, with their eyes glued in all directions. However, when they reached the village itself all of their worries quickly washed away. Peasants, drunk and sober danced in the cobbled streets to the tune of three bards singing and playing their instruments. Even some of the guards clapped to the tune of the music, laughing and enjoying the festivities.

Just behind the bards sat a set of wooden double doors with a sign nailed directly above them. Written on the sign was the words ‘The Seedy Sit’ which was the name of the village’s tavern. The Seedy Sit was known for its constant flow of booze and festivities, but most importantly it was the only tavern in town.

Wigyur, Arneth, and Akaro all three looked at one another with a sly grin painted on their faces. This is what they came for. The three walked across the street, and through the dancing people, pushing some of the drunkards out of the way. One by one, they reached the double doors and walked inside but the moment they stepped foot in the tavern, all eyes suddenly shifted towards them.

The tavern was wide with a low ceiling, so low that the top of Arneth’s head brushed against the wood. Rows of round wooden tables lined the tavern, every table was full of burly and dirty men all staring at them. The only place that seemed to be empty was at the bar located at the very end of the tavern itself.

“Let me do the talking...these are my kind of people..” Wigyur whispered over his shoulder. He took the lead and walked down the aisle between each table that led to the bar. Akaro and Arneth quietly followed behind. It was clear they didn’t belong there.

The three took a seat at the bar where an older and fattened man stood, cleaning wooden tankards with a used rag.

“Buying something?” the fattened man asked.

“Three Shimmer Ales, would ya?” Wigyur nonchalantly dragged three pieces of silver across the counter towards the man.

The fat man stared at the pieces of silver coin sat on the counter. A grin came across his dirty face, “three Shimmer Ales coming right up.”

“Where did you even get coin?” Arneth leaned in and muttered.

“The old drunk bastards outside,” replied Wigyur.

While the three waited for their drinks to be served, a burly older man approached them, stinking of honied mead and piss. “Never seen you boys around here..” said the burly man, planting his meaty hand on the bar.

“We’re from further west. Near the Evergray,” Wigyur said off the top of his head.

“Oh, you’re from Summerview?” The burly man asked, getting more comfortable by leaning in on his elbow.

“Yea, sure,” Wigyur sneered, not wanting to play any more of the man’s games. “Listen, I’m just here trying to get a drink. Don’t care much for the small talk, eh?”

“Oh, of course, I can respect that,” the burly man chuckled, putting his hands in the air as a surrender. “But, you do know that everyone who comes by Finchfur s’gotta pay their toll, right?”

Arneth tightened his hands into fists. He didn’t like where the conversation was steering. Akaro nervously glanced around the tavern, noticing everyone was still glaring at them. A closer inspection of the men in the room led to Akaro’s realization that they were all armed. Some even had various leather and fur armors. These weren’t any usual bartending men.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Funny thing is, you don’t look like a knight of the Steele Emirate. So I have a sneaky suspicion you aren’t collecting taxes for the King,” Wigyur sarcastically said.

“Look at you, so smart” the burly man licked the frayed hairs of his blonde mustache off his lip. “We’re Grave Riders, and as far as the King is concerned, Finchfur belongs to us,” the man grinned, his yellowed teeth souring the front of his face.

The three Shimmer Ales Wigyur ordered were placed directly in front of him, foaming in a tankard spilling at the sides. Arneth, Wigyur, and Akaro no longer seemed thirsty with no one reaching to grab their drink.

“So highwaymen cowards can overrun a village and claim it's theirs now?” Arneth blurted out.

The burly man flared his eyes at Arneth. His hand instinctively motioned to the sheath of his sword that hung at his hip. “Shut the fuck up you northern shit.”

Arneth jumped to his feet and balled his hands to the point of whitening his knuckles. He didn’t care if he was outnumbered or not, he just wanted the prick to go away. Wigyur also jumped out of his stool, seeing Arneth was ready for a fight.

Akaro rushed up between his friends and the burly man seeing the situation was getting serious. He held his arms out to give everyone space, pushing the tips of his fingers against Arneth’s chest so he wouldn’t push any closer. “Alright, let’s all just relax…”

The burly man admittedly felt fear the moment he saw how huge Arneth was. However, the fear was washed away quickly by a false sense of security in knowing they outnumbered the trio. It was really a losing fight for the trio if they started anything, and the burly man knew this.

“Oh look at that, the northerner’s got some sense,” slyly grinned the burly man. He turned his attention to Akaro, seeing he was the only rational one to speak to. “So, its up to you, really. Wanna pay the toll in silver, or blood?”

“We don’t have any coin left. If you let us go, we won’t come back. I promise,” Akaro told the man with sincerity.

“Can’t feed myself with promises, now can I?” blurted the man.

“Please, we don’t want any trouble with the Grave Riders,” Akaro pleaded, wanting to keep the tension as low as possible.

“It’s too late for that don’t ya think?” the man said, unsheathing his sword.

Without warning, Arneth twisted his torso and swung a mean right hook on the burly man clocking him on the chin. The man’s face contorted with the sheer force of Arneth’s punch, and dropped to the floor unconscious.

“Kill the bastards!” shouted a voice from within the tavern. All hell broke loose and the highwaymen jumped out of their seats rushing at the trio.

Wigyur leaped over the counter and grabbed a tankard to use as a weapon. One of the Grave Riders jumped over the counter after him but was smacked dead in the face by the tankard. “FUCK OFF YOU PISS STAINS” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Arneth faced the crowd head on, he managed to land a couple of well placed punches, even using his elbow to jab at some who tried to blindside him. But, one of the Highwaymen grabbed him from behind and managed to lock his arms tightly. Resorting to using his legs, he kicked wildly like an angered bull until he felt the sickly cold steel of a blade jab into his ribcage.

A gasp of air escaped Arneth, but he had no chance of even seeing where he was stabbed. A brutal beatdown of a dozen fists slamming into his chest, ribs, and face over and over again quelled any sort of fight he had left in him.

Akaro was quick and precise with his strikes, he clocked a Grave Rider dead on the neck and continued to shuffle backwards. This way, he hoped not to get overwhelmed by the several highwaymen surrounding him. Every blade that was swung missed Akaro, every punch they tried to land couldn’t touch him. Akaro shuffled quickly until his back was against a corner of the tavern. Here, he could at least make sure no one snuck up behind him. However, there were still six armed highwaymen standing in front of him. Akaro’s eyes flickered between each of them…he would not go out without a fight.

Wigyur on the other hand was quickly surrounded at the bar. He smashed the tankard he had on hand into bits after beating people in the face with it so much. So he resorted to punching and headbutting any of the bastards dumb enough to climb the bar. A woman sneaked around the bar and grabbed Wigyur by a chokehold.

Wigyur gagged and held onto the woman’s arms around his neck. He pushed himself backward to smash the woman onto the wall behind him. Yet, her hold was still firm. Wigyur tried desperately to fight off the hold, but it was too late. A few of the Grave Riders jumped over the counter and proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of him. Especially the one whose face he used to smash the tankard.

Suddenly, a loud slam came from the side door of the tavern. The Grave Riders all swiveled their heads to the sound of the slam. The fighting stopped almost as quickly as it began.

Stepping through the door fully dressed in the armor of a Warden was Khalia. Behind her stood Scar, Alexios, and two other Wardens. Scar and Khalia both stepped aside and stood by the door letting Alexios walk in quietly and with a heavy demeanor. His chiseled features stood prominent as he turned his head to scour the room.

“It’s the Wardens…” whispered a Grave Rider.

“What are they doing here?” muttered another. Yet everyone remained motionless.

Alexios’ sunken eyes furiously glared at three individuals in particular. Wigyur. Arneth. Akaro. “You three, to the Citadel. Now.”