Leaving the general store, I walk back through the market district. I've spent most of my pay, one copper to last me through the week? I've been in worse situations, but still... maybe I got ahead of myself. I'm already getting hungry...

  I sigh, imagining the other things I could have spent Zaenith's coin on. A hot meal? A pastry? I haven't had a pastry in years...

  The scent of roasted meat rifts through the air, making my stomach tighten with hunger. I glance to my left and spot the tavern, its doors swinging open as patrons come and go, their laughter spilling into the street. I haven’t had a warm meal in months, and the thought of something hot and filling is almost too tempting to resist.

  Then, I remember, the young woman from earlier today, before Two found me. She was the tavernkeeper's daughter if I recall correctly and she offered me a meal, free of charge.

  "Well, I am hungry and her father was kind enough to make the offer...."

  I push open the heavy wooden doors, and a wave of comforting warmth washes over me. The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced ale fills the air, mingling with the low hum of chatter and the occasional burst of laughter. My aching shoulder eases slightly now that I'm free from the harsh cold outside.

  The tavern is lively, with perhaps two dozen patrons filling the many tables, some engaged in animated conversation, others quietly enjoying their meals. A large fireplace blazes at the back of the room, its heat a great comfort to those inside.

  The girl from earlier weaves between tables, balancing heavy plates laden with steaming food. The sight alone makes my stomach tighten in anticipation. To the right, an older, slightly rotund man tends the bar, pouring drinks for the patrons in front of him.

  As I make my way toward the bar, another man rises abruptly to intercept me. Instinctively, I take a cautious step back.

  I don’t recognize him.

  Another arm suddenly slings around my shoulder, his hand gripping me firmly. My muscles tense, but before I can react, familiar voices break the tension.

  "Relax, Seven." one of them chuckles. "You look like you’re about to gut us."

  I glance to my side, finally registering their faces. Guardsman Philip and Dale, the two stationed at the west gate. My hand eases away from my belt as recognition sets in.

  "Oh, it's you two. I didn't recognize you without your armor," I say, as the two of them chuckle.

  Philip claps me on the back. "Aye, we do look a bit less intimidating without it. Come on, let’s get you a drink."

  They guide me toward the bar, their steps light, Dale's arm still around my shoulder. As we reach the counter, Philip waves a hand toward the burly tavernkeeper behind it. "Hey, Osric! This is the one I told you about. The stranger who took down those two brigands. Checked the bodies myself."

  The tavernkeeper, a broad-shouldered man with a thick mustache and a belly that suggests many well-enjoyed meals, raises an eyebrow. "Well, I’ll be damned. You’re young, I expected someone a little more… battle-worn. But aye, you’re as big as they said."

  He wipes his hands on a cloth and extends one in greeting. "Name’s Osric. I pour the drinks, which makes me the most important man in town."

  A chorus of laughter erupts from the nearby patrons. "Aye, it's the only reason his fat arse hasn't been thrown out of town after he was caught ploughing the knacker's wife." one laughs.

  "Shut it, Tom! You couldn't throw me on your best day!" Osric barks, slamming another mug down on the table.

  More laughter ripples through the crowd, the warm camaraderie infectious. I find myself smiling despite myself.

  Friendly faces… that’s a nice change of pace.

  Osric grins. "Now then, let’s not leave our guest waiting." He turns and calls out, "Elsie! Bring out a plate for our warrior here."

  At the sound of her name, the young woman from earlier appears from the kitchen, her eyes widening slightly as she recognizes me. "Oh! It’s you!"

  She hurriedly wipes her hands on her apron before turning to her father, who nods toward me. "Bring him one of your pies. He’s earned it."

  Elsie nods, scurrying off as Osric leans against the bar. "You’ll like this, lad. Elsie's pies are a blessing from Lumina herself. You'll find no better."

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Moments later, Elsie returns, carefully setting a steaming plate in front of me. "I hope you like it," she says with a warm smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  The aroma alone is enough to make my mouth water, it’s been too long since I’ve had a proper meal. Osric places a pint of ale beside it with a hearty chuckle. "Now eat up before it gets cold."

  I don’t need to be told twice. The first bite is heaven, rich, flaky crust, thick with savory gravy and generous chunks of meat. I let out a contented sigh before digging in. Osric laughs. "Aye, I told you. No better pies than my daughter's."

  Elsie watches, pleased, as I devour the meal. The warm atmosphere of the tavern is a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed.

  "So..." I say between bites. "I'm new to town. Anything I should know?"

  Osric chuckles, wiping his hands on a rag. "Not much to it, really. Hard-working folk, cold enough weather, and damn good ale, if I say so myself."

  Philip smiles. "Festival’s coming up soon. You'll enjoy it. A good bit of food, some dancing. Maybe young Elsie will give yer a dance, aye?"

  Elsie blushes, tugging at her hair. "Oh, I couldn't... I'm not much of a dancer."

  Dale laughs, leaning in. "Maybe you’d dance with me then?I could show you a thing or two."

  Her expression immediately flattens. "No."

  The table erupts in laughter, but before Philip can tease her further, Osric cuts in. "Watch it you old fuck, I'd sooner dance with you meself than let you so much as hold my daughters hand."

  The door creaks open, and two figures step inside. One I recognize, Luna, looking as sour as ever. The other remains shrouded in a heavy cowl, his features obscured in its shadow.

  Osric follows my gaze, leaning in slightly. "Newcomers like yourself. They rented a room from me upstairs not long ago. Keep to themselves."

  He wipes a mug clean, his tone lowering. "Strange folk. I try not to disturb 'em, and they return the favor. But mark my words, lad, folk like that don’t come to places like this without a reason."

  He turns back to me with a sigh. "But to answer your original question lad, there's not a whole lot you need to know about this town, not much happens here."

  But then Osric’s expression darkens. He leans forward, voice lowering as he speaks. "That is, except the brigands. But you already know about them. Bloody filth of the roads, plaguing good folk like leeches. It is good, that you killed the two you did, Seven."

  The shift in tone is stark. The room doesn’t quiet, but Philip and Dale both glance down into their mugs. "They took my boy," Osric continues, his voice strained. "Elsie’s brother. Left him in a ditch, like he was nothing. Bastards."

  I pause mid-bite, setting my fork down. "How did it get this bad? How did they become such a problem?"

  Osric sighs, wiping a hand across his face. "It started with a few scattered bandits, desperate thieves robbing folk on the road. But then... they got organized. A leader came among them. A real bastard, goes by the name of Edric 'The Butcher'. He pulled the worthless whoresons together, turning desperate thieves into murderous cutthroats. Now they call themselves the 'Bleeding Knives'."

  I look to Philip and Dale, both of whom are staring down into their mugs. "So, do the guards have any kind of plan for dealing with this?" I ask, picking up my fork again.

  Dale exhales heavily, rubbing his temples. “There’s little we can do. With fewer than a hundred guards to watch over the town, we’ve scarce enough blades to keep the streets safe, let alone the roads beyond.”

  Philip nods grimly. "The cowards never strike alone either and always away from our patrols. We can't even get our hands on them."

  Dale shakes his head, his grip tightening around his mug. "The best we can do is keep the peace inside the walls. But now folk are too afraid to leave. Trade is drying up. Merchants are refusing to make the journey here, and hunters who once roamed freely in the wilds have all but given up. It’s killing the town, slowly but surely."

  “Why hasn’t the mayor petitioned Empress Lustra? Ravencroft is under Lumenon’s banner, isn’t it?” I ask, voice colored with curiosity.

  Shrugging, Philip stares into his half empty cup. “Probably has. But we’re so far on Lumenon’s borders… I doubt they care. Besides, not like the town itself has been attacked.”

  Osric sighs, shaking his head. "That’s why every one of those whoresons that dies is a cause for celebration. Their killers get a free meal from me and a silver coin from the mayor. So if you happen upon any more, you know what to do."

  He places a firm hand on my shoulder. "Good work, lad."

  I nod, finishing the last bite of my pie and washing it down with the rest of my ale. The warmth of the food settles in my stomach, a rare comfort in recent days.

  As the night winds down, Philip and Dale take their leave, heading back to their posts. Osric turns his attention to the remaining patrons, filling empty mugs and exchanging laughter with the regulars.

  Elsie, however, lingers. She approaches me hesitantly, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her apron. "Thank you," she says softly, her gaze meeting mine. "You must be so brave."

  I let out a dry chuckle. "Not really. First thing I did when they came for me was turning tail and run, they chased me, and... well, then it was over." My hand drifts to the club at my belt, the memory of the fight still fresh in my mind.

  "I just hope Captain Daniel can figure something out. He always knows what to do."

  I grimace at the mention of his name, and at the expression she makes when she says it.

  Of course. The man is good-looking, wealthy, a noble. Bet most girls fawn over him.

  Despite his mention souring my mood, it does remind me of something, something I've been meaning to do.

  "Do you happen to have any bread and a bit of meat left over that I can buy? I’ve got, erm… one copper." I ask, pulling Elsie from her thoughts.

  She blinks, then shakes her head with a soft smile. "Oh! Yes, of course, but don’t worry about paying. Consider it thanks for what you did."

  Before I can protest, she disappears into the kitchen, returning moments later with a bundle wrapped in cloth and a flagon of wine. "Here, this should last you another meal, with some wine to wash it down." I take the offering, bowing my head. "You're too kind. Thank you, Elsie."

  She gives me a shy smile before stepping back. I nod once more, then turn and step out into the cold night, towards my final destination for tonight.

  The gaolhouse.