The cloaked figure visited three other homeless shelters before he arrived at the Red Vagabond, the only tavern in the outer district.
Music and dance overflowed the tavern, the bright tunes complemented by the bright light.
The figure took off his cloak to reveal the face of Rick, his clean-shaven face standing out amongst the many beards, which was the popular style of the commonwealth. The sounds of intelligent conversations played wonderfully in his ears after spending so much time with Mord.
...
"I've heard tales of monsters used as mounts! Perhaps we could use them to draw the carriages?"
"Those are myths, lad. And even if they aren't, they might as well be. Who is rich enough to use the monsters of legend as beasts of burden?"
...
"What in the netherworld?! Why is the stew so damn expensive?! It looks like everything has been going downhill since the fall of Vrea..."
"Fall of Vrea? Things have been goin' downhill since the Upheaval and before!"
...
"Johnny, my boy, you look good! How was basic training for the Guard?! You look like you gained a bit of height!"
"Oh, you know how it is! The hardest fun you'll never want to have again! You did it too, Uncle, so you'd know!"
"Uncle?! I'm only seven years older than you!"
"..."
...
Rick sighed. He could only expect so much, he supposed.
He basked in the noise for a second more before making his way to the bar, sitting before the great oak log that had been hand-shaped by the greatest carpenter in Redvale.
He ran his hand along the familiar wood grain, appreciating its rustic allure.
"Ow! Splinter!"
The bartender snorted with laughter, her kind amber eyes looking at him with ridicule.
"Come on, Rick. You know better than that!"
"Mark my words, Lydia. We need more than one carpenter in Redvale," He grumbled as he took the ale she had handed him.
The woman that stood before him loomed over him, almost as tall as Mord. Thankfully, she had studied the arcane arts, or Rick might've had another Gwen on his hands.
He shivered at the thought.
He looked at her magically chilling the barrels of ale, and raised an eyebrow. "Magic is so convenient. I'll never get why you spend your time here rather than studying."
"It is! That's why the magic practitioners run this place! Magic is uniquely suited to making ale by the grace of its enhancement property! This way, we can magically induce a better reaction between all the ingredients! Of course, we can also create the perfect reaction and storage environments! But you already knew that, I suppose."
Rick chuckled at Lydia's naturally bubbly nature. He would ignore her changing the subject for the time being. At the same time, he appreciated the slip of paper he found under his bowl, which he carefully placed in the pouch fastened to his belt.
'Lord William is truly a wise man, gaining the trust of the common people. The intelligence they provide is precious!'
He was about to say something when the door suddenly crashed open, a boot print on the front.
Rick sighed. He had arrived.
"Get me your finest knowledge juice, mage!" A tall, lanky man shouted from the door as he entered excitedly.
"Asmodeus knows he needs it..." Rick grumbled, the others in the inn familiarly greeting the man as he walked by.
Lydia smiled as she raised an eyebrow. "So, a light tea then, Mord?"
Mord grinned as he took a seat beside Rick. "Extra knowledge, please!"
"Extra sugar comes at an additional charge, you know."
"Oh, scratch that then..."
Rick scoffed. "You're the highest paid in the Guard, Mord! Why are you so frugal?!"
Mord scratched his head awkwardly. "Well, I gave all my money to some beggars today. They looked so cold, Rick! I had to!"
"I-" Rick sighed. He honestly didn't know what to say. What was he going to do, punish Mord for his act of philanthropy?!
Mord cleared his throat. "Speaking of which, I now can't pay for food. Can you help me?"
Rick gritted his teeth. "At least save enough for food, you moron!"
Lydia chuckled at the two as she handed Mord his 'knowledge juice.'
"Mm... so green! So magical!" He said with a blissful expression on his face. He took a small sip, sighing contentedly. "So sweet, tastes like happiness!"
Rick sighed as he looked at his friend. He'd been sighing a lot recently. He took a few paper notes from his bag, handing them to Lydia.
After they had finished their meals a while later, the two stood up to leave.
Rick looked at Mord and Lydia, nodding at the two of them. "Same time tomorrow?"
Lydia chuckled. "I'll be here, as always. Take care of Mord."
Rick grumbled angrily as he walked away from the two, Mord hurrying after him. "Bye, Lydia!"
...
A piece of yellowed paper sat in front of Lord William Colm, Heir of Redvale.
He studied the intelligence on the paper, his brow furrowed. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes. The Krodians were attempting to gain entry to the city via the smugglers but hadn't been making too much of a concerted effort.
Goleil had been in the city for two weeks at most, yet he'd already made a massive name for himself. Most still didn't believe he was real, just a joke the aristocrats played on the peasants. Even some nobles felt the same.
One worrying thing was that the de Clares hadn't reacted much to their family head's death. Minerva Alnwick had already begun her hostile takeover of their industries, but they still did not respond.
William's eyes narrowed as he stared at the paper. What were those traitors planning this time?
Thankfully, it didn't look like the Krodians knew anything about the Y'Trix or Goleil. Otherwise, they might act differently. While his father was capable, William had become the brain behind the Colm Dynasty long ago.
He scanned the rest of the page, and the message that worried him the most was at the bottom.
Morrow was returning.