Needless to say, we were unable to tell the authorities the full truth about our encounter with the ratfolk, since in doing so we would have been implicated in the murder of a high-ranking dignitary of Duke Emmanuel's court, and the murder, however much the victim deserves it, it is a crime.
We finished working for the sewer guard and were forced to look for alternative employment. As luck would have it, during a drunken night in one of the less salubrious neighborhoods of the city, we came across a tavern whose owner was interested in a couple of platinum rank adventurers with no quests who charged a reasonable amount of money for their services.
He hired us to throw the undesirables off the premises, and you can believe me when I tell you that the people had to be very undesirable indeed to deserve to be thrown out of The Stinky Pig.
The work was hard, violent, and unrewarding, but I thought at least we'd be safe from Ratfolks or any truly dangerous monster. Of course, as often happened, I was wrong, because apparently there was at least one of them who had not forgotten us and was plotting revenge...
Elysia, 'The Adventures of the Dark Hero', vol. II,
Printed in Riverheim, Kingdom of Arcadia.
♦ ♦ ♦
Elysia ducked to avoid the drunken mercenary's punch, and the bronze fist whistled past her ear and struck the doorjamb, sending splinters of wood flying from it. Elysia launched a knee that caught the mercenary in the groin; He groaned and doubled over, and Elysia grabbed him by the neck and hauled him toward the swinging doors. The drunk barely resisted, as he was too busy vomiting up stale wine. The catgirl kicked the door open and dragged the mercenary outside, where she propelled him off with a kick to the rear. The mercenary rolled in the dust of Commerce Street as he clutched his crotch, tears falling from his eyes and his mouth gaping in pain.
Elysia rubbed her hands ostentatiously before turning to head back into the tavern. She was fully aware of the eyes watching her from behind the torchlit areas, for Commerce Street was full of assassins, prostitutes, and hired thugs at that hour. Maintaining her reputation as a dangerous girl was nothing more than common sense, since she reduced the chances of a knife being plunged into her back when she was out on the streets at night.
"What a life!" she thought. If someone had told her a year ago that she was going to end up working as a bully in the most dangerous tavern in Bergheim, she would have laughed right in her face. She almost would have preferred to be back doing the mission as a sewer guard, rather than doing that job.
"Things change." She told herself, as she returned to the interior of the crowded venue. There was no doubt that they changed.
The stench of stale sweat and cheap perfume hit her. She narrowed her eyes as her vision adjusted to the dim, lamp-lit interior of The Stinky Pig. For a moment, she realized that all of her eyes were on her, so she frowned in what she hoped was frightening and glared, Frey-style. From behind the bar, the burly Heinz, the bartender, gave her an approving nod at the way she'd settled the problem with the drunk, then she turned to start the pump that drew the beer.
She liked Heinz, and was also grateful to him. The burly man was the only one who offered them a job after they were dishonorably discharged from the sewer guard.
"This is a new drop below." Elysia thought, since she and Frey were the only two warriors to have been expelled from the sewer guard in their long and solid history. In fact, they had been lucky to escape without having spent time in the Black Tower, the infamous prison of Duke Emmanuel. Frey had called the captain of the guard a corrupt and incompetent scum, when the man had refused to take seriously his reports of the presence of Ratfolks in the sewers. To make matters worse, the dark hero had cracked the man's jaw open after he had ordered them both to be whipped with a whip.
Elysia winced, as she still had half-faded bruises from the fight she'd followed. They had fought half the guard post before they were knocked unconscious. She remembered waking up in a miserable cell the next morning. Thankfully, thanks to their membership as a member of the Adventurer's Guild and their high rank, they managed to get out the next morning. Luckily they did not demote them in rank, but they did sanction them, because as a reprimand they annulled the possibility of accepting missions in the guild for a long period of time.
Elysia wanted both of them to leave the city, but Frey insisted on staying in it. She wasn't going to let him run away like a common criminal; particularly when the spellcaster Ratfolk was no doubt planning some terrible crime.
The dark hero saw his chance to face the forces of Darkness in all their evil splendor, and he would not let them take away the chance of a magnificent death against them.
"A magnificent death." Elysia thought bitterly. Frey had gathered a group of dwarf warriors in a corner, waiting for their turn to start. Frey's massive armor loomed above the diners, and his massively muscled body leaned over the table. The dwarves gulped down the ale from huge mugs, grunted and tugged at their beards, and muttered something in their sharp, harsh language. No doubt they were reminiscing about some ancient slight done to their people, or going over the long list of wrongs to be avenged. Or maybe they were just reminiscing about the good old days, when beer was worth a copper piece a mug.
Elysia shook her head. Regardless of what the conversation was about, the dark hero was very absorbed in it. He hadn't even realized the fight had taken place, and that was unusual in and of itself, since Frey lived to fight like others lived to eat or sleep.
The dwarves seemed to like Frey's stoic and rigid personality, as they chatted as if they were old acquaintances. Was it the result of witnessing the mighty greatsword Lævateinn which was etched with ancient runes?
Elysia continued to walk the tavern as she eyed each table with a sidelong glance. The long, low-ceilinged room was packed. The beer-stained tables were laden, and on one of them a half-naked young dancer twirled and capered while a group of halberdiers tossed her silver coins and encouraged her to remove the rest of her clothing. There were whores leading staggering soldiers toward dark alcoves in the far wall. The noise of the tavern drowned out the gasps and groans, and the jingle of coins changing hands.
An entire long table was occupied by Glatian horse archers, guards for some caravan that had come from the north. They roared out drunken songs, dealing with nothing but horses and women, and sometimes obscene combinations of the two, as they gulped down vast quantities of Heinz's own vodka.
The inhospitable and cold land of the Frozen Kingdom of Glacia is the northernmost known human nation, it is located to the Northwest of the Kingdom of Lothal and shares a border with the great Nordic tundra, it is said that far to the West of Glacia, beyond Out of the Norse tundra lies the last nation ruled by Dragons.
As the northernmost nation, Glacia has always stood on the brink of annihilation as it borders the fearsome Nordic tundra. Glacia is a vast, untouched steppe with an extreme climate. Bounded by the North Sea to the East, the Sea of the End of the World to the West, and the Nordic Tundra to the North. Its inhabitants must fight to survive against Norse raiders from the Nordic tundra and greenskin tribes that inhabit the icy mountains that lie within their territory.
There was something about them that made Elysia uneasy. The Glacians were humans different from the rest. They grew up under colder sun and harsher territory; they were born only to ride and fight. When one of them got up from the table to go to the toilet, his swinging, bow-legged gait told Elysia that he was a born horseman. The warrior kept his right hand close to his long-bladed knife, for at no time was he more vulnerable a man than when he stood in the dim moonlight, relieving himself from a pint of vodka.
Elysia made a face. Half of Bergheim's thieves, murderers, and thugs congregated at The Stinky Pig. They came to mingle with the newly arrived caravan guards and mercenaries. He knew more than half of them by name, having been pointed out by Heinz on the first night on the job.