I went to the pub to see a small gathering of people towards the back in a heated, hushed-whisper conversation. As I neared, they all quit talking and glared me down.
"What can we do for you?" asked one.
He was a tall, lean muscled man with short sharp angular ears protruding out from his head. He has hair and a beard that are the color of heated metal- orange with tints of darker orange and copper that contrasted against his fair skin and light brown freckles splattered across his face, but what stood out on his face is the heavy scarring on his right side- nine spread out lines running from beside his eye missing by inches to below his mouth. One had cut into his lip and all looked to have been inflicted at the same time. His eyes threw me though me as well- they were a green but almost yellow like Sasha's, but he had no other wolfish features to him. He was either a lucky Halfling or a werewolf.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," I said taking a step forward.
I thought he was going to fall out of his chair backwards. For someone that looked like a cut throat leader, I seemed to be able to intimidate him quite easily. A few drew their knives.
"And?" he asked.
Why were they so uncomfortable with me?
"I would like to do my part," I said, folding my arms.
The obvious leader of the group stared me down.
"Do you really think it's that easy, boy? We have the Keltcher killing citizens and undercover guardians trying to fish us out. You'll have to prove yourself," he growled.
His eyes blazed with a high intensity. He looked almost feral.
"I understand your mistrust. What do I need to do to prove myself?
Before anything else was said or I could register it, I found myself pushed roughly into a chair and my shirt collar ripped back.
"He doesn't bear the necklace of the blood turner's boss," said another.
"He wouldn't, you dolt!" snapped their leader smacking the other across the face.
The sound echoed throughout the now quiet room and the man, around the same age as me if I had to guess, had a large red handprint across his pale face. He resembled the leader, but had a sturdier build to him and wasn't as wiry. His hair was a lighter hue as well- more gold with orange highlights cut short with a goatee. He had darker green yellow eyes than who I assumed was his father as well.
"He's a half demon. Why would he bear the necklace of a Beautiful Blood or mortal, eh?"
I looked at him in surprise. "How did you know I am a half demon?"
He smirked with a crooked smile. "You learn to sense your kind. We are here because of your kind after all. Well, the Greater Demons anyhow. Your relatives."
I nodded. He was knowledgeable.
"So why don't you trust me, wolf?" I asked.
He glared down at me. He was trying to scare me- to show dominance. I put four coppers on that's why he was doing this.
"That's Quinn to you, boy," he spat. "Not wolf. Got it there, hot shot?"
"Sorry,��� I said halfheartedly.
"I don't let just anyone into my ban. I only take the loyal, the stealthiest, and the strongest. The brave. I don't have room for a weak link. One person falling into the Keltcher's hands and we would all die. That cannot happen."
There was that foreign word again. Keltcher. Who were they?
"Who are the Keltcher?" I asked.
Shock showed on all of Quinn's men's faces. "New here or something?" he growled.
"Aye," I said matter-of-factly. "Came in last night."
"The Keltcher are a corrupt ban of guardians. They kill, destroy, and steal from us. They do it to intimidate us and make us fear their race more."
That was enough for me to definitely want to join the cause. I had thought about joining since last night when I had entered the city. I knew there had to be a resistance somewhere here. I knew some were hoping to make it better.
"What can I do to prove myself?"
"Let me know if you see any Keltcher here."
"How do I recognize them?"
"They wear rogue leather armor."
I nodded. "I'll do you one better, Quinn. I'll bring you the head of one."
He looked at me, trying to read if I was serious.
"Big promise," he said, stroking his beard. "If you pull it off, you will be my second in command."
"But boss…" piped up the man Quinn had slapped. "You promised me.."
Quinn shot him a look and the man cowered.
"Hush runt," he growled.
The boy looked at the floor. He had to be around my age. "But fath-"
Quinn hit him in the side of his face so hard that head snapped sideways, reeling the boy back. Was Quinn this boy's father as I assumed?
"Sorry," whispered he boy.
"Show the demon around, runt," Quinn commented.
I stood and offered my hand to the boy, but he smacked it away and hefted himself up.
"I don't need your pity," he growled.
I followed the boy outside where he led me around the lower city showing me shortcuts, hiding places, and places to avoid. I could tell he did it half-heartedly.
"What is your name?" I finally asked.
"Sweede," he said. "And you are?"
"Jaspen."
He nodded. "That's all there is to see of the lower city. I'll be returning to the pub now."
I watched him leave before heading back to Sasha's shack, whistling.