Month of the Shepard, Second Tenday, 5th Day, 767 KD

How quickly fortunes change. Last night I was freezing on a mountain. Today I am in the greatest city in the world, belly full of the most wonderful food I have ever tasted, drinking ale that put Master Kaarde's to shame, listening to minstrels performing music fit for the gods, and instead of clinging to a tree for dear life while hungry beasts lurk below, I have a luxurious bed to sleep in.

I always dreamed of seeing Crille. The inn is twice the size of the Gambit back home, and there seem to be dozens like it around the city. I have never before seen so many people. They fill the streets, which are lined with torches that are lit at twilight.

It is a welcome relief to sit in a comfortable, luxurious chair, a solid wall at my back, writing at leisure, thinking of Alayna, no longer fearing what beast may stalk me from the thicket, or when I might be shot with an arrow.

I was not as cold that second night, and found a higher perch in the tree, but the large beast returned more determined than before, and the night was long and harrowing, with no sleep.

Alec returned the following afternoon. He did not come from the cave, but strolled out of the woods, whistling cheerfully.

“Handy!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe you’re still alive, you son of a bitch!”

I scrambled up from my spot by the fire. “Master Alec! You are alive!”

“Ah, come on, Handy, how many times do I have to tell you, you don’t have to call me master! ‘Your excellency’ will do just fine.”

He saw my puzzlement. “Just kidding. Seriously, I thought for sure you would have died, or left or something. Richter! Where the fuck is he…Richter!”

Another outlander came out of the thicket, his massive arms bare despite the mountain cold. He carried an axe.

“Jesus Christ,” the man said. “Would you fucking slow down for once?”

“Richter, look! This is my follower I told you about, the one from that little town. The fucker’s still alive!”

“Great,” Richter grunted. He did not even spare a glance at me.

Alec gave me food – dried venison, bread, cheese and an apple, and without wasting further time, ventured back into the cave, with Richter following. I plead with him not to and told him of the two women, but he dismissed my concerns, insisting that he was going to “kick ass and take names” this time.

So once again, I waited. The sun began to descend.

At last Alec emerged, letting out a triumphant whoop.

“What’d I tell you, Handy? Piece of fucking cake this time! You should have seen the ass whooping I just dealt out! Look at all this fucking loot!”

He deposited beside me a veritable treasure trove. “Watch that shit for a few minutes. I’m going back for more.”

“What happened to your companion?”

Alec scoffed, heading back to the cave. “Didn’t make it. Dipshit doesn’t know how to listen.”

I began to pack away the treasure Alec had left on the ground. I put out the fire and began readying myself to at last leave this place.

As I bent to look for any smaller items on the ground, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. An arrow whistled by me, right where my head had been just a moment before.

I took cover behind the tree.

A man yelled, “Come out, shithead! We won’t hurt you!”

“You attempted to shoot me,” I retorted. In spite of my fear, I found myself more than a bit angry. I had grown weary of being shot at.

“C’mon, we were just fucking around. If I’d wanted to hit you, I would have!”

I bit my tongue and made no reply, biding my time for Alec’s return.

“Don't be stupid!  We’ve got you surrounded! All we want is the loot! We won’t hurt you!”

“I think not!” I yelled back.

Instantly more arrows came, one striking my tree with a thwack sound.

“What the fuck!” It was Alec, coming out of the cave.

“Shoot him!”

Alec wasted no time, drawing his sword and racing toward the voice in the thicket with a fury. Sounds of blades and blows ensued.

A few moments passed, and Alec returned, cleaning fresh blood from his blade. “Noobs,” he said. “Come on, Handy! Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

And at last, I left the mountain.

Month of the Shepard, Second Tenday, Sixth Day, 767KD

I awoke early this morn. Alec had set many tasks for me.

My duties required me to familiarize myself with nearly every corner of the city – selling treasure, purchasing provisions, gathering information and seeking out new quests. Alec told me he would return in the evening.

It was a pleasant, warm day, for late winter. I found it difficult to fathom that just the previous morning I had been chilled to the bone, alone, with an empty belly and a dry throat. Now I was walking about a crowded city, belly full, wearing new clothes that were not torn by arrows, and carrying more coin than I had ever seen.

Alas, having never been in a city before, I was unaware of its own inherent dangers. I had heard stories of Crille, of course. But after my first night in the fine inn, I had come to believe that the stories of danger were greatly exaggerated.

The city stretched out for many miles, and it stretched upwards as well, with buildings of stone that stood hundreds of feet tall. I walked along the crowded streets in wonder and awe, making my way through the throngs, stepping around horse dung on occasion, but there were no apparent dangers. This perhaps lulled me into a false sense of comfort. When I reached the western edge of the city, I found that it looked like a different city altogether. The buildings were dilapidated. Some were crumbling apart or barely standing. My belly rumbled and I decided to return to the eastern district.

"Heya, boy," a man said. I had not seen him, and I started a bit. He came out of the shadows. An older man, he grinned with hideous teeth that were blackened and rotten. I could smell his breath from several feet away.

"You wear a very nice coat," he said. "Got any coin to spare?"

"No," I said, and I began walking swiftly, having a bad feeling now.

The man followed, walking beside me, touching my sheepskin coat.

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"Yes," he said. "Very nice. You buy this at the market? I had one just like it. I think this is mine!"

"No, it is mine, I assure you. I am not from here--"

"You stole my fucking coat, you little bastard."

"It is my coat. My mam made it."

"Bullshit! My mam made it."

The man had my coat sleeve firmly in his grip.

I broke free and ran.

I heard the man cackling behind me. I saw others walking on the street or standing in the alleys. I had not paid them any mind but they suddenly all seemed to be watching me with calculating eyes.

I turned a corner, out of sight of the man. I saw a sign for a tavern and decided to seek refuge there. I found a steep stairwell to the left and I went down narrow broken stairs. I nearly changed my mind and went back up, but I could hear the cackling of the mad thief getting closer. I took the steps two at a time and walked into a cool room, so dark it took a full minute for my eyes to adjust.

It was a small place. Not very clean. It smelled vaguely of body odor, fire and soot, sour ale and possibly blood. It smelled just like the Gambit back home. The place was nothing but a narrow corridor, not wide enough for two men to stand abreast, an old, warped bar stretching the length of it, wobbly ancient stools in front of the bar. A barman served beer to three men who sat at the end. In the back corner, another man sat on a stool and strummed a harp with no enthusiasm. He barely seemed alive.

Everyone stared at me as I stood by the door. The stares were not friendly, and I felt like an outsider, intruding on their world.

I was about to turn and make a hasty departure, but I heard the thief cackle again from the street above.

"I'm sorry but there is a man following me!" I blurted out to the strangers. The three drinkers stared at me as if I spoke a different language.

"So?" said the barkeep. "You want a beer or what?"

"Uh....yes, that sounds good in fact."

I sat on a vacant stool that was wobbly and sticky, several stools down from the others. I felt for my coin pouch and was relieved to find it still there. I placed a silver piece on the bar, realizing too late it was not a copper. I winced, fearful to take it back or to admit my mistake.

But the barman's demeanor instantly transformed. He smiled at me and was suddenly quite friendly. "You want beer, or cider? The cider is fresh and it's quite good. I recommend it."

"Yes, that sounds agreeable."

He brought cider in a large wooden mug. I took a cautious sip. It was excellent.  It had a sharp bite to it that seemed to improve after it was swallowed. I began to drink it quickly, very thirsty after my walk across Crille.

The barman took the silver piece and replaced it with nine coppers and a half copper piece. I was shocked at how cheap the cider was and that the man was not cheating me after all.

The harp player continued strumming. The patrons resumed their conversations.

"Are you hungry?" the barman asked me. "I have some fresh stew. I just made it. Half a copper for a bowl."

My stomach was rumbling so loudly, I wondered if the man was offering because he had heard it.

"All right," I said, handing over a copper. "And another mug of cider too."

"Be careful with those," the barman warned. "You'll want to make it back to the eastern district alive, I assume."

The stew was indeed delicious, another surprise.

I finished it with gusto and was working on my third cider, telling myself it would have to be my last, when a man came down the steps and strolled inside. The other patrons looksed up at him but went right back to talking. I heard the barman curse under his breath.

"I heard that, Ke!" The man felt his way to the bar, blinking to adjust to the dim light. He found the stool next to me and plopped down with a sigh, as if he had been laboring hard all day.

He was young, of the same age as me, short and very skinny, dressed in plain but comfortable garb. His face was freckled and his eyes a dark brown. The eyes seemed amused.

"Gib, you need to tune your harp or find another instrument! Or another line of work!" This he called out to the harp player.

"Don't start, Rany," the barman said warily.

"What are you gonna do, kick my arse again? I didn't hire the fucking guy. He probably scares away half your customers. The decor scares the other half."

"What do you want, Rany?"

"One of those mugs of cider would be nice. And as fast as possible, if it ain't too much trouble for you. I got things to do."

"You actually have coin today?"

"Damn right I got it!" He slammed a copper coin on the bar in triumph.

"Watch out for this one," the barman said to me.

"For me?" Rany looked from the barman to me, incredulous. "Look around here! I'm the last one to worry about. Here, you dropped this."

He handed something to me, as I wondered what I possibly might have dropped. But I did not recognize the item at all, a small, folded parchment. It must have been dropped by someone else.

I began to protest, but Rany muttered through clenched teeth, "Read it."

Curious now, I unfolded the note and strained to read the crooked, scraggly writing.

At last I made out the words: “2 men ar watin ousid to rab u”

This, of course, was not welcome news, and I thought perhaps foolishness and hubris had gotten the better of me, wandering into the unseemly area of the city, carrying no modest sum of coin. Fortunately, this Rany fellow seemed a generous sort. Making sure Quin and the others were out of earshot, he told me his plan.

We finished our drinks, ordered another round, and drank at our leisure until the appointed time when Gronau, the tavern tough, concluded his shift. When the burly bouncer departed the tavern, we left with him, Rany attempting to engage him in idle conversation that was met with grunts. To anyone observing, the three of us were together – a much less appealing target than I would have been alone. Indeed, two rather large, menacing men appeared to be watching closely. They began to follow, seemed to think better of it, and fell back into the crowd.

Soon Gronau went his separate way – without so much as a farewell – and Rany and I made our way back into the more respectable part of the city.

I conveyed my appreciation to Rany.

“Think nothing of it,” he said. “It was my pleasure to help. I won’t accept any reward either.”

“Reward?” At this I frowned, suddenly questioning his true motives.

Rany laughed. “Gods, you really are new to the city, aren’t you? Don’ know what it’s like where you’re from, but here, nobody does anything for anybody without expecting something in return. Not me though. I just like to help people.”

“You are a good man,” I said.

“Thank you,” he beamed. “My ma always said so.”

He accompanied me as I continued my errands. He proved quite useful, guiding me to the best weapons and armor shop in the city. I purchased light armor for Alec and, more importantly, myself. I tried it on, and found the “light” armor heavy and uncomfortable. I asked the proprietor if it would protect me from arrows. The proprietor assured me that, while it would not guarantee complete protection, it would greatly improve my chances of survival, should I be shot again. I decided to wear it at every waking moment.

Month of the Shepard, Second Tenday, 6th Day, 767KD, Seventh Bell

“You’re one minute late,” Alec informed me.

“I am terribly sorry, sir—“

“Take it easy, I’m just busting your balls. Get in here.”

Alec went back to the table in the center of the room, upon which he had placed a large map.

“Gods, look at this room!” Rany exclaimed, following me inside. “This is—“

He was interrupted by the tip of Alec’s sword, instantly unsheathed and pressed into Rany’s throat.

“Who the fuck is this and what is he doing here?”

“This is Rany, sir. He saved me from being robbed this afternoon, or perhaps worse! Please do not hurt him!”

Alec inquired of Rany, “What’s your story, fuckface?”

“Just as he said,” squeaked Rany. “I saw him in the wharf district alone. Two thugs following…looked like more trouble than he could handle. I was just trying to help!”

“Well, what the fuck are you doing here now? You looking for a reward or something?”

“No! Work maybe. You can hire me, cheap! I am quite resourceful – ask Handice!”

“He is,” I agreed. “Please do not hurt him, sir. It is my fault he is here. I did not think his presence would offend you.”

“No,” Alec said, pulling the blade back just a bit. “You didn’t think at all. In the future, nobody comes around me without you asking me first. There are fucking assassins and shit everywhere.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I don’t think I have any use for you,” he told Rany. “You don’t look like you can carry much. And I doubt you could even beat Handy in a fight.”

“I’m not bad with a knife-“

Alec scoffed.

“I am good with locks…I can get into places many others cannot.”

“Are you a thief?”

“In my coat pocket…I have something for you…”

The sword flashing, Alec sliced open the pocket of Rany’s coat. A gold amulet hit the wood floor with a thud.

“Hey!” Alec exclaimed. That’s mine, you little fuck!”

I stared at Rany, bewildered now, and certain that if he had indeed stolen from Alec, it was about to prove a fatal mistake.

Yet Alec laughed. He sheathed his sword.

“You’ve got some fucking balls. We can probably use a thief – welcome aboard.”