An hour before.
"What's the look about?" Henry Savoy said.
He approached those adventurers who looked at him cautiously. Of course, he had to know what the fuss was about.
"Those three you've hired, friend," the one with a shock of red hair spoke first, voice heavy with caution. "They're infamous around here for having pretty low odds of succeeding in the missions they take with clients."
Henry grinned, unbothered. "Everyone's a failure sometimes," he said, stretching his arms casually. "You think you're all heroes that succeed every time? You've failed, too."
"Not like them," the woman beside him replied icily, a shadow of something unearthly flickering in her eyes.
She had that air about her, something darker, something most wouldn't dare approach or gaze. It's like what Neitzsche once said. If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you. "They're infamous, not for taking on risky jobs, but for betraying their employers. And let's just say, those clients don't get to tell their side of the story."
The redhead nodded, and the third, a hooded man with a demonic mask, finally spoke, his voice muffled but forceful. "Monet's right. We've been tracking them ourselves. A contract from a client who survived, barely. Lucky we crossed paths before you got pulled in too deep."
"I had the idea, really," Henry Savoy chuckled, placing his bindle on their table. "So, what gives? Why warn me?"
Henry chuckled, setting his bindle—a tattered, well-worn sack of dubious treasures—right on their table. "What are you, my saviors? Why the warning?"
"We're just honest, that's all," spoke a tall, armored woman with biceps that could intimidate a minotaur. "It's why we're here—to deal with these scum. They're taking contracts, robbing, and ditching their clients."
She was muscular and was wearing heavy armor. She was the tallest among the rest but she was fair, still. Henry Savoy found her quite captivating. He does like tanned women. But what Henry Savoy admired most was their honesty.
"Alright, then," Henry Savoy started to rotate his shoulders while grinning. "I'll hire you lot instead, but I don't travel well without knowing the people around me."
"Hah! I like you," said the red-haired man. "I am Phenix the Crimson, the band leader."
"And I am Ammonete, I am the witch of the group. I handle wounds and healing." She raised her gloved right hand. "A pleasure to meet you."
"And I am called Kagezo, I scout ahead to keep the road safe," he nodded after he spoke as if he agreed with himself. Well, he does look like a capable scout. "And this is—"
"Fortiana Vislane, I am the tank," she snickered, shrugging her pronounced shoulder as she did. "I'm the shield of the group so to speak."
"We are the Griffon's Grace," said Phenix. "And you are?"
Henry looked at them, amused as all hell. He wasn't going to let this deal pass. It's too good. Honest fellows to hire are as rare as black diamonds. The kind of man he was, he'd rather be stabbed from the front rather than behind.
But, you know, he's just like that because he was a liar himself, and he was aware, but not changing, that many of his actions hurt others. He acknowledges that, but not enough that he'd be someone that he is not.
Perhaps, he believed in fate, but just the kind he wanted to believe in.
A fate that he is in the most pain out of everyone.
But for now, he only laughed and laughed until he calmed down enough to speak. He had thought of a moniker, seeing that their leader had one. He wasn't about to one-up him.
"Since you are honest," Henry Savoy chuckled, looking at them with a devilish grin. "I am Henry Savoy, the King of Rot."
Phenix started to giggle. "King of Rot?"
Then the rest of Griffon's Grace followed, except for Ammonete.
"What's so funny about that?" Henry squinted his eyes, brows knitting with each other.
"Hey, come on, did you seriously not know of the King of Rot, the god-tyrant from the Age of Dusk?" Fortiana said, a bit of confusion and disbelief in her eyes.
Of course, Henry Savoy wouldn't know this. He is an Otherworlder after all, and he was not about to disclose that fact.
"Age of Dusk? And what god-tyrant?" Henry replied.
The Griffon's Grace got silent and just looked at him. Ammonete coughed to cut through the silence and steeled herself to speak.
"The Age of Dusk came before the Age of Dawn," she began, placing her hands firmly on the table as if preparing to reveal something heavy. "To put it simply, Ser Henry, the Age of Dusk is infamous for one figure: the King of Rot, also known as the Pale God, Namtar. Before Tearh saw mortals and semi-mortals, it was populated by the Demians, created by the gods as their first subjects. Namtar was made to be their king and ruled for eons. But over time, he grew prideful. He sought godhood itself—and achieved it. This pride, however, fractured the Demians, plunging them into a brutal civil war that lasted the same time as his peaceful rule. Those who sided with Namtar became known as Daemons. In the end, the King of Rot and his Daemons were defeated, and Namtar was banished to the Undying Vortex for eternity."
"I see," Henry scratched his chin while thinking deeply. Many of those, he didn't understand, like the Undying Vortex. It does sound like a horrible place though, that's all he could infer. The Daemons, too, was a close term for demons on Earth. Demians must be angels, or demi-gods.
He's just sure about the Daemons.
But there was one question most prevalent in his mind among the rest.
Does his ability have anything to do with this Namtar?
He doesn't know for certain. What he does know now is that the ability of King of Rot might be dangerous.
"You either have lived in a cave or have talked little to others," sighed Fortiana.
"I would say, I never liked talking to people," Henry Savoy snickered. "So, that's probably it."
Sure, he never really liked it, but it's great that it was an excuse he could give to not make them suspicious of his origin.
"The Daemons have been causing trouble for mortals since the Vortal Rifts opened. The Fifteenth Daemon King, Sevatar the Unsworn, is the current Daemon that escaped the Undying Vortex," Fortiana added.
Henry Savoy only nodded in agreement. He doesn't really understand who Sevatar the Unsworn is, but he knew well enough, from the title, that this is a creature of darkness. The whole table was quiet again but all of them looked at Henry Savoy.
Ammonete sighed and shook her head, chuckling a bit. "I might educate you while we travel then. We've got three days and two nights of travel. That much would suffice."
Henry cocked an eyebrow. "But I'm not paying for the lesson."
"No need," Phenix laughed. "Monet's obsessed with this stuff anyway."
Henry Savoy nodded. "Alright then, I'll take that offer. But before we fight those three—" Then he shifted from his seat and slowly took out one bottle of fruit juice that he turned into wine using The King of Rot.
Everyone's eyes lit up, the label on the bottle was that of juices reserved to the royal family or their guests. You can buy some in high-end restaurants, but even so, it would be their most costly bottle.
"Let's drink a bit," Henry snickered.