As Hector made his way to the nearby town riding on Ustas's back, he couldn't help but have a good chuckle about the King's unusual decision to visit their village, and an idea came to his mind. "Well, ain't this a twist in the tale," he muttered to himself.
"Heyh-ya" Hector yelled with a mischievous glint in his eyes and kicked Ustas lightly and his fellow mate sped up on his run towards town.
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In the heart of the small town, Kulpa, where the echoes of history whispered through the trees and cobblestone streets, there stood a weathered mansion that had seen better days. Once a grand residence of a bygone era, it had been transformed into a local bar, its former glory faded but its character enduring. The mansion's exterior bore the scars of time, with chipped and peeling paint revealing the proud wooden frame beneath.
Hector stopped near the Bar and got off Ustas, as soon as he did that a boy in a newspaper hat came running with a big grin on his face and said "Good Morning Hector".
After having a look at the boy Hector recognized him, "Oh! Hey Manuel...." he smiled at the latter gently "How have you been today?"
The kid answered "I am fine", nodding as he spoke.
Hector hummed, patted the kid on the head and went inside the bar whose intricately carved wooden doors greet at the entrance. the passage of years had taken its toll, causing some of the once-imposing columns to lean slightly and the grand windows to lose their former lustre.
Inside the Bar, The main hall, with its high ceilings and chandeliers that had seen better days, had been transformed into a welcoming gathering space. The wooden floorboards bore the marks of countless footsteps, worn smooth by the passage of time and the rhythms of music and dancing.
The shelves behind it were stocked with an array of aged spirits, their labels bearing testament to the history of the town. A long row of stools lined the bar, their cracked leather seats a testament to the bar's enduring popularity.
In one corner, a stage had been set up for live music, its backdrop adorned with a tattered velvet curtain that still held a hint of its former splendour. Musicians would take their place there, the music echoing through the hall and adding to the bar's unique charm.
The walls were adorned with —vintage posters, framed photographs of the town's history, and the odd antique sign salvaged from days long past. The High music stopped for a few seconds and the whole crowd looked at the who entered the Hall with a Brown sack on his back. That was Hector who walked in, "Oh, Please do not mind my presence", Hector spoke loudly and the crowd went back to have fun.
Hector has come here to meet up with his dealer, old Jack, a lanky fella with a scruffy beard that seemed to have its own personality. Jack had a habit of squinting when he talked, giving him a perpetual look of scepticism. His clothes were worn and patched up, a way to his rugged lifestyle.
Hector slapped Jack on the back in greeting. "Jack, my man, have you heard the gossip about the King's tour of villages, including ours?".
At that moment, Jack was busy touring his eyes on a woman's body who had been sitting on the bar stool, right across from Jack for 10 minutes. It would be a lie if anyone said they did see them flirting, but Hector here went straight to Jack and Be his usual self.
Jack furrowed his brows, squinting even harder as he scratched his scruffy beard something he does when he is utterly irritated. "Aye-Hye see Who is here?" Jack said with a sullen face, his voice full of, no-expression,
" Hector!!!!" He exclaimed, gritting his teeth.
"Sorry" Hector made a hands-up gesture, "I meant no harm buddy, I did not know you wanted to have her" Hector chuckled at how his old college was pissed,
"Yeah yeah" Jack swatted Hector's hand and said " I heard it loud and clear. Strange business, if you ask me. The King leavin' his fancy castle to visit the likes of us?." Jack rolled his eyes as he spoke of the king, who had nowhere to be seen for years and now suddenly this announcement.
Hector chuckled and winked at Jack's characteristic scepticism. "Ah, you always were the cautious one, Jack. But let's not overthink it. We've got our own work to do. The King's doing's are below our pay grade, Jack."
Jack nodded, finally letting go of his beard. "You're right, Hector. We'll let the royals do their thing. Now, about those iron goods..."
And with that, they got down to business, leaving the royal mysteries behind as they focused on the everyday tasks that kept their lives rolling.
As Hector and Jack continued their conversation in the town square, a lanky figure approached them. This man, known as Tom, had a wiry frame and a scruffy beard that matched his dishevelled appearance. His tattered clothing told a story of a hard life, but his sharp eyes betrayed a keen intellect.
Tom leaned in closer, his voice hushed as he spoke to Hector and Jack. "Hector, Jack, I've got some news for you fellas. You know that aristocrat, Lord Harrington, who lives up on the hill?"
Hector raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Tom's information. "Aye, I know of him. What about Lord Harrington?"
Tom glanced around cautiously before continuing. "Word on the street is that Lord Harrington's house is going to be the next target for those looters. They're planning a heist, and I thought you two might want to know."
Jack squinted his eyes at Tom, always the cautious one. "How do you come by this information, Tom? You're not mixed up with those troublemakers, are you?"
Tom shook his head vigorously. "No, no, nothing like that. I just have a few ears in the right places, if you catch my drift. Thought you might be interested, is all."
Hector exchanged a knowing look with Jack, understanding the value of having an informer like Tom around. "Well, we appreciate the heads-up, Tom. We'll keep an eye out and see if we can help protect Lord Harrington's property. Thanks for letting us know."
With that, Tom nodded and melted back into the bustling town square, his shabby appearance blending seamlessly with the crowd. Hector and Jack turned to each other, their thoughts heavy with the responsibility of safeguarding their village from potential threats.