After settling into a cozy tavern with a welcoming atmosphere, Leon seized the chance to ask the owner, a burly man with a twinkle in his eye, about the best way to reach the western port of Kantadar from Dragon Throat City.
"I've seen a fair few travelers come and go," the owner chuckled, wiping a tankard with a cloth. "You're in luck; I can give you the lay of the land." After a couple of coins exchanged for drinks, he leaned in, eager to share his knowledge.
"There are two main routes you can take," he began, gesturing animatedly. "The first is by land. Just head out the South Gate and follow the main trade route south. It's straightforward enough, but keep your wits about you. Banditry is not uncommon on those roads."
Leon nodded, noting the owner's serious tone. "And the second option?"
"Ah, the water route! You can catch a merchant ship from the docks here. Just sail out of the Rushina River and follow the coast to your destination. It's faster and, frankly, a lot easier when it comes to customs. You'll avoid most of the headaches you'd face on land."
Leon considered this for a moment, picturing the potential for adventure at sea. "But what about the risks?"
"Good question," the owner replied, his expression turning grave. "While the coastal route has been stable for years, you'll still have to deal with pirates and storms. The fare can be steep, too. But trust me, it's worth it for the speed and the view."
With the risks weighed, the group deliberated. Ultimately, they all agreed; the water route it was. They wanted to reach Kantadar as quickly as possible.
They made their way to the port, excitement bubbling in the air. However, they soon discovered that ships heading out to sea were few and far between this time of year, and even fewer were willing to take on passengers. Just as they were about to lose hope, they spotted a vessel with a bit of room.
The captain, a stout man with a sunburned face and a wary gaze, eyed them as they approached. But instead of greeting them, he squinted past Leon, taking a thorough look at Brandon.
Leon raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the captain's sudden scrutiny. "Is there a problem?" he asked, glancing back at his friend.
The captain's voice cut through the air like a blade. "We can't take women on board. She can't come." He pointed his chin toward Brandon.
Leon and Liam's jaws dropped in disbelief. "What?" they exclaimed in unison, staring incredulously at the captain.
Was the man blind? Brandon had been meticulously grooming himself since shedding the embarrassment of their escape, and while he had a delicate, refined appearance, there was no mistaking him for a woman.
"Are you serious?" Leon said, trying to contain his laughter. "That's not a woman; that's my friend!"
Brandon's expression shifted from shock to indignation. He adjusted his collar, exposing his Adam's apple as he stepped forward. "Are you humiliating me?" he demanded, his voice low but fierce. "I'm clearly not a woman!"
The captain shrugged, unfazed, as if he dealt with this kind of misunderstanding daily. But Leon could see the flush creeping up Brandon's cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger simmering just below the surface. If he hadn't been so well-mannered, Leon suspected he would have drawn his sword right then and there.
Leon placed a hand on Brandon's shoulder, trying to defuse the tension. "Look, we're all friends here. Can't you just see reason?" He gestured towards the ship. "We just want to get to Kantadar. Surely you can find a way to accommodate us?"
The captain shrugged again, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Fine, if he pays for the fare and behaves like a gentleman, he can board. But if there are any issues, you're all off my ship."
Brandon shot Leon a glance filled with both gratitude and indignation. "I'll show him what a gentleman is," he muttered under his breath, already plotting how to prove his worth as they prepared to board.
Leon rubbed his forehead in exasperation, repeating for what felt like the hundredth time, "He's a man, I swear."
Finally, after taking a second look at Brandon's visible Adam's apple, the captain seemed to accept the truth. He chuckled sheepishly, removed his hat, and offered a humble bow. "My apologies," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Didn't mean to offend. But let me explain…"
The captain then recounted an incident from his past: a traveler had once smuggled a young girl aboard, disguised as a boy. What had started as a harmless ruse turned into chaos when an unexpected situation unfolded, leading to trouble and even danger among the crew. Since then, the captain had been wary of anyone who looked a little too… delicate. And with Brandon's strikingly handsome face, he figured a quick test couldn't hurt, just to be sure he wasn't dealing with a repeat of that unfortunate voyage.
Brandon, caught between indignation and amusement, sighed. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment," he muttered, reluctantly accepting the apology. At least, it seemed, his appearance was getting him noticed; even if for all the wrong reasons.
With that misunderstanding cleared up, they set a time to board the ship the next morning and left the dock to head back to the hotel. As they made their way through the streets, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the city in a golden glow. The warm evening light spilled over the bustling streets, painting the shoulders of passersby in hues of amber and crimson.
Dragon Throat City City was unlike the quieter, smaller towns they had passed through. Even with the city gates closed, the pulse of life didn't slow. The curfew wouldn't be enforced until the bell tower tolled deep into the night, leaving plenty of time for people to revel in the twilight hours. Residents and travelers alike flowed into the many taverns that dotted the city, eager to relax after a long day. Inside these lively hubs, the air buzzed with music, laughter, and the clink of tankards.
Leon and his companions found themselves seated in a cozy corner of their tavern, enjoying a hearty meal and sipping on drinks from far-off lands. To pass the time, they pulled out a small wooden chess set, a gift from a merchant they had helped fend off a wild beast earlier in their journey. The game's simple yet strategic rules had proven to be a pleasant distraction during the more tedious stretches of travel.
As the night deepened, the tavern began to fill, and Leon finally experienced the lively, almost magical atmosphere he had always imagined taverns in foreign lands would have. Poets strummed harps and sang tales of heroic deeds, while bards recited epic stories to entertain the patrons. In one corner, groups of foreign warriors, swords strapped to their backs, huddled over their drinks, likely escorting caravans through dangerous territory. In another, city guards, temporarily off duty, laughed and drank, enjoying a brief reprieve from their responsibilities.
As the energy in the room grew, Leon's attention was drawn to the dancers. Dressed in gauzy, shimmering outfits, they twirled gracefully between the tables, their skirts sweeping the floor as they passed. Their movements were captivating, but not subtle; provocative laughter erupted as men reached out with playful jests, teasing and flirting with the dancers. Some of the patrons rose to follow these women upstairs, eager to indulge in more than just drink. It was clear that this wasn't just a performance, this was a profession that brought in significant income for the tavern.
Leon took all this in with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, marveling at the vibrant life swirling around him. It was an odd yet fascinating mix of celebration and indulgence.
Just as he was about to move his chess piece, a young woman approached their table. She was dressed in far less than the dancers, her clothes barely covering the essentials, and what she lacked in subtlety, she made up for in confidence. Her plunging neckline revealed a rather impressive display of what could only be described as "searchlights," gleaming conspicuously under the soft glow of the tavern's oil lamps.
The woman smiled, leaning over the table just enough to ensure she had their full attention. "Evening, gentlemen," she purred, making sure her "big thunders" were the center of attention. Her eyes danced between the three of them, clearly hoping to tempt them into some lucrative company for the night.
Leon, caught off guard, stammered for a response, while Liam and Brandon exchanged amused glances. Brandon, still stinging from the earlier debacle with the captain, raised an eyebrow at the woman's boldness, his good humor slowly returning as he watched the scene unfold.
"Well," Leon began awkwardly, scratching his chin, "I think we'll pass… for now." He glanced at Brandon, hoping to avoid any further incidents this evening.
The woman shrugged, unfazed, and sauntered off to another table, her laughter mixing with the hum of the tavern's lively patrons. As she left, Leon shook his head with a grin. "This city certainly knows how to keep things interesting."
With the game of chess back in focus, the three companions continued to enjoy their evening, readying themselves for the journey ahead, knowing that the next day would bring its own set of adventures.
Brandon, with his aristocratic poise and striking looks, quickly became the center of attention in the tavern. The dancers, drawn to his refined appearance, deliberately swayed past him, their movements designed to catch his eye. Their flirtatious glances and teasing smiles, however, were met with the same polite refusal every time. Born into nobility, Brandon had been raised with a certain decorum, and these advances; no matter how tempting, didn't seem to faze him. He smiled kindly, offered a few respectful words, and gently turned down each invitation.
Liam, on the other hand, wasn't as unaffected. His eyes widened in awe as one of the more provocative dancers brushed against him, her intentions clear in her gaze. For a moment, he was visibly stirred, the heat of desire flaring within him. But just as quickly, the image of his missing relatives flooded his mind, cooling that fire as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. The memory of their plight snapped him back to reality, and he shook his head, declining any further distractions.
Leon, too, found himself approached, though he waved off the dancer with a smile. It wasn't that he wasn't tempted. He'd been abstaining for what felt like an eternity since waking up in this strange world, and his body certainly wasn't devoid of its natural urges. But there were other, far more complicated reasons for his restraint. The most pressing? Miss Lola, the female wizard who shared his body in some mystical, uncomfortable way. Any "private activities" would feel like putting on a live performance for her, and that idea alone was enough to quash any interest in indulging.
He grimaced at the thought. What if he offended her somehow? Worse, what if in a fit of anger, she denied him access to crucial abilities like the *Isa's Arrow* spell at a critical moment? No, best to remain a "brother of Nofap" for the time being. Abstinence, though not by choice, seemed the safest route.
Soon, the dancers whisked away their spoils; those men too eager to resist temptation, leaving the tavern quieter, the raucous energy settling into a more relaxed atmosphere. The three companions watched from their corner, observing the ebb and flow of human life in all its chaotic, indulgent glory.
With the dancers gone, the mood shifted. The tavern became a touch more peaceful, and Leon's ears picked up the soft strumming of a lute nearby. He turned to find the source, noticing a poet not far from their table. The man, dressed in colorful, almost theatrical attire, stood out with his curled mustache and wide-brimmed hat adorned with a feather. He sang with a steady, melodic voice, his words flowing like a river, carrying with them a melancholy undertone that resonated deeply with the audience. His ballad was one of lost love, the kind that tugged at the heartstrings and lingered in the soul long after the last note had been played.
Leon found himself absorbed by the poet's performance, his focus shifting completely to the song. What he had first assumed was a tavern known primarily for its dancers was now revealing a hidden layer of depth. The poet's words captivated the room, the silence that followed each stanza filled with a reverent stillness. The applause at the end was heartfelt, guests clapping with genuine appreciation. Leon joined in, impressed by the skill and emotion of the performance.
The poet, smiling humbly, removed his hat and bowed, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at the crowd's response. Leon had been expecting another song, ready to let the evening drift away on the poet's melodies. But something else caught his attention.
A faint whispering sound reached his ears, too soft to be coming from any of the tables nearby. Confused, he scanned the room, looking for the source. Neither Liam nor Brandon seemed to have noticed, nor did any of the other patrons. The murmur was low, hushed, and unmistakably out of place. Intrigued, Leon leaned closer to the window by his table and slowly lifted the shutter, just enough to peer outside.
Through the narrow gap, he spotted several figures standing in the shadows, their faces obscured by the dim light from the street lamps. They were huddled together, speaking in hurried, urgent tones. One of the figures; clad in a dark cloak, seemed to be giving instructions to one of the dancers who had just left the tavern. The dancer nodded, her eyes darting around as if she were nervous.
Leon's curiosity piqued. Something about the scene felt off, as if there was more going on here than just idle conversation. His hand instinctively went to his belt, where his dagger rested, just in case. He turned slightly towards his companions, gesturing for them to stay quiet.
"What's wrong?" Brandon whispered, noticing Leon's sudden shift in demeanor.
Leon didn't answer right away, his eyes still trained on the figures outside. "I'm not sure," he finally said in a low voice. "But something's happening out there. Something we might want to keep an eye on."
He watched a moment longer as the group finished their exchange. The dancer hurried off, disappearing into the alley, while the cloaked figures lingered for a moment before vanishing into the darkness.
"Let's not draw attention to ourselves," Leon added, closing the shutter softly. "But stay alert. We might have stumbled onto something bigger than we realized."