The tavern was a relic of better days, its wooden beams sagging, and the walls faded and peeling. The air was thick with the scent of stale ale and damp wood. Dim lanterns cast long shadows, adding to the sense of age and neglect.
A young man, appearing to be in his twenties, pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside. His long, unkempt hair framed a pale face that had seen too many days in the wild. His coat, old and musty, clung to him like a second skin, hinting at the rough journey he had endured. He walked up to the bar—a long, worn table with the server on one side and customers on the other—and took a seat.
The bartender, a stocky hobgoblin with leathery green skin and sharp yellow eyes, approached him with a crooked smile, his large pointed ears twitching slightly. "Well now, if it ain't ol' Hex. Been a while since I seen ya 'round these parts. Y'look rougher than usual, lad."
Hex gave a weary smile, a hint of something knowing in his eyes. "I've been out hunting for weeks. Not much prey to be found around here. Can't stray too far either—not with this bloody war ravaging the land."
The hobgoblin grunted, shaking his head as he poured Hex a drink. "Aye, it's been hell for folk like me. Worked this tavern for years now, but because o' what I am, I can't ever get a place o' me own. High Order don't like seein' goblins succeed, least o' all me." His yellow eyes flickered with resentment. "It's the Frjals that got the right idea—takin' down the bastards who think they're better than the rest o' us."
Hex took a sip of his drink and leaned back, a faint smile curling his lips. "It's the same everywhere. There's always someone on top, and the rest suffer for it. You think it matters to me? I've got my own troubles. Surviving is all I care about."
The hobgoblin's brow furrowed. "Survivin'—aye, I get that. But it's more than that for us. My kind's been kicked 'round for generations. Can't get land, can't own a business without bein' taxed to the bones. They make sure o' that. Ain't just me neither—my kids, they're goin' through the same. Always bein' reminded they're not good enough."
Hex took another long drink, his expression unmoved but still with that soft, almost amused smile. "Sometimes the ones that look like you hate you the most. The way I see it, goblin, human, elf—doesn't make a difference. You can never trust a man too far, not even the ones that claim to be on your side."
The hobgoblin grunted again, wiping down the bar as he vented. "Hmph. Maybe. But there's always some bloody ladder we're stuck on, and no matter how hard we climb, they keep shovin' us back down. The Frjals are the only ones fightin' to tear that ladder down."
Hex shrugged, smiling again as if at some inside joke. "Good luck to them, then. Me, I just need to keep my head down and stay alive. There's a lot more dangerous things than ideals flyin' about these days."
The hobgoblin grumbled under his breath as he walked away, leaving Hex to finish his drink. The war had changed things, that much was certain. The High Order had ruled for centuries, believing six races stood above all others. Under their control, entire nations were subjugated, their lesser races kept in chains or pushed to the fringes of society. But now, the Frjals—an alliance of those very "lesser" races—were rising up, determined to topple the High Order and tear down their oppressive regime.
And then there were the Architects. Not interested in racial politics, they fought a different battle—one against the religious factions that supported the High Order. They saw the clergy as hoarders of knowledge, suppressing the spread of information and holding back research that could revolutionize society.
The war had fractured the kingdom into three main sides, and Hex had learned early on not to get too attached to any of them. Survival, after all, didn't care about politics.
A shady-looking man in a black hooded cloak had taken the seat beside Hex, unnoticed until now. His face was barely visible, shrouded in darkness.
Hex raised an eyebrow, eyeing the man before ordering another drink. "It's far too early to be sober," he muttered, then downed half of the mug. After a moment, he turned to the hooded man. "What rumors have you brought for me this time, stranger?"
The hooded man replied, his voice low and raspy. "Unfortunately, nothing new. Just the regular dull news: Rogue fairies are attacking smugglers in Bernian Forest, and villages are being burnt down by the Gali scourge..."
Hex interrupted with a wave of his hand. "Don't bore me with things I already know. Here's an idea—why don't you tell me your name? At least that's something I don't know."
The hooded man laughed, a faint smirk breaking the tension. "Here's something I heard about: newly uncovered ruins in Krelar. Those stiffs at the Jade Circle seem particularly interested in it. I hear there's something strange about it."
Hex sighed, leaning forward. "Of course they are. The Jade Circle is a research branch of the military; that's kind of their thing. Strange ruins, magic artifacts... it's all just another day's work for them." The Jade Circle wasn't just a group of scholars or explorers, but one of the seven specialized corps under the High Order's vast military structure. Each of the seven corps was tasked with different responsibilities—law enforcement, espionage, siege warfare, and more.
The Jade Circle was dedicated to research, particularly the uncovering and studying of ancient ruins, magical artifacts, and forbidden knowledge. They were relentless in their pursuit of discoveries that might strengthen the High Order's grip over the Estria. If the Jade Circle had indeed marked the site in Krelar, it was already crawling with their soldiers, armed with both knowledge and weapons. Hex pulled five bronze coins from his coat and tossed them onto the bar. "Nice doing business with you."
The hooded man snatched the coins and stood, slipping away as quickly as he had arrived. Hex watched him leave, muttering to himself, "It's so hard to get good strangers these days."
Hex stayed at the tavern for a while, indulging in the food and drink as if he hadn't had a proper meal in days. The old hobgoblin kept the ale flowing, and Hex ordered dish after dish, savoring the rare opportunity to relax. Between bites, he struck up casual conversations with a few patrons who wandered in—a tired merchant here, a gossiping farmer there. Each exchange was brief, his usual wit keeping the banter light and forgettable.
What Hex didn't notice, however, were the two men seated in the far corner, their eyes tracking his every move. Dressed like common laborers, their plain clothes blended into the worn-down atmosphere of the tavern. They sat quietly, their expressions unreadable, but their focus on Hex was unwavering. Every now and then, one of them would whisper to the other, their eyes rarely leaving him.
As Hex finished his last drink and prepared to leave, the two men exchanged a glance. Silently, they rose from their seats, making their way toward the door. Their footsteps were soft, careful not to draw attention as they slipped out after him.
Hex was singing and barely able to walk straight. "What direction was that inn again? Was it... left or right?" he mumbled, then burped. Suddenly, Hex got the uneasy feeling that he was being followed. He quickly turned around but found no one. Thinking it was all in his head, he continued to sing.
Out of nowhere he was jumped by four men who looked like mercenaries. After a brief scuffle, during which Hex used a bottle on one of the men, two of them held his arms and pinned him to a wall.
"Hex!" a voice yelled from the shadows. "After you stole our loot and left us for dead during our last raid, I never thought I'd see you again. What a coincidence we happened to be in the same town. This must be faith, don't you think?"
A large, muscular figure emerged from the dark, a prominent scar across his face. Hex instantly recognized him and stuttered, "Raiko! You look... uh... different. New hairdo?"
Raiko replied, "I see you've noticed my scar. I have you to thank for that, and I've come to repay you in kind."
Hex replied, "Uhh... you really don't have to. I'm just a generous guy." He burped nervously.
Raiko moved closer, pulling out a dagger and placing it against Hex's neck. "I can't figure out if it's the booze or you're just an idiot. Either way, I'll let you leave with one of your limbs intact if you tell me where my loot is."
Hex stammered, "Well, the thing is... uh... it's all gone. I had a few debts I needed to settle. You know how it is." He burped again.
Raiko, now looking frustrated by Hex's nonchalance, replied, "Of course I do. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Raiko sneered, "Hell, I've thought of a way to make back the money you lost. I hear witches around these parts pay top coin for fresh, healthy organs. I'm sure you'd be more than willing to help me with that, right?" He smiled menacingly.
Hex stammered, "I don't t-t-think I'll be much help with the healthy part. I doubt I have much of a liver at this point."
Raiko replied, "That irritating sense of humor. Let's see if you still have it while I carve you up."
"Oi! Who's there?" A loud voice interrupted. It was the hobgoblin from the tavern. He had heard the commotion on his way home after closing up for the night and came to investigate. Noticing Hex pinned to the wall, he called out, "Hex, everything alright there?"
Hex, now looking anxious and fearing what might happen to the hobgoblin, screamed, "I'm fine! Mind your business, old fart!"
The hobgoblin replied, "Ya don't look fine. What have ya gotten into this time?"
Raiko sneered, "Looks like we've got a little bonus. Get him!" Though the hobgoblin was strong and put up a good fight in a brief exchange of fists, he was eventually overpowered by the other two mercenaries. Nearly unconscious, he was bleeding from his nose.
Hex screamed, "Leave him alone! He doesn't have any business with you!" Raiko smiled, seeing that Hex was now serious. "I'm sure the witches won't mind if some of the organs have aged a little. I think I'll start with him."
Hex screamed, "No! He's not a part of this. Leave him out of it, Raiko. It's me you want!" Raiko sneered as Hex's desperate words filled the air, but the brute ignored him completely. Instead, he began walking slowly toward the old hobgoblin, dagger in hand. The tavern keeper, still groggy from the beating, barely stirred, his tusks glinting in the dim light as he struggled to rise.
"Oi, look at this worthless greenskin," Raiko spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "Can't believe your kind still think you can make something of yourselves. You're just dirt, always have been."
Hex's eyes widened in panic. "No! He's not a part of this. Leave him out of it, Raiko. It's me you want!" Hex shouted, his voice trembling, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.
Raiko grinned viciously, continuing to approach the hobgoblin with slow, deliberate steps. "I'm sure those witches won't care if his filthy green hide's a little tougher to peel. Probably use it for a rug," he jeered, raising his blade with wicked intent.
The hobgoblin groaned weakly, but his movements were sluggish from the earlier fight. Hex could feel his heart pounding, knowing that if he didn't act, the old tavern keeper would be dead in moments. Desperate, he shouted, "Wait! I know where you can double the worth of that loot—hell, ten times its worth!"
Raiko paused mid-step, his cruel smile fading into one of mild curiosity. He turned to look at Hex, amusement now in his eyes. "Oh? And what's that worth to me, mole?"
Hex, his mind racing, replied, "There's a new ruin site they just uncovered in Krelar."
Raiko raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "Ruins in Krelar? Who told you that? You think lying's gonna save this sorry excuse for a barkeep?"
"From a stranger," Hex blurted out. "Paid top coin for this info," he added quickly, trying to keep the bluff alive.
Raiko scoffed, though his interest had been piqued. "If a stranger told you, then it's crawling with the Jade Circle already. Might as well tell me the moon's made of gold."
Hex, scrambling to salvage the situation, added, "Yeah, but that's not all I got. The stranger mentioned a hidden route into the ruins that the Jade Circle doesn't know about yet! I'll show you where it is—just let the old man go!"
Raiko stared at him for a long moment, trying to gauge whether he was being lied to. After a tense silence, Raiko smirked. "Alright. I'll humor you." But before Hex could breathe a sigh of relief, Raiko swung his dagger, slashing the hobgoblin across the face.
Hex screamed, "Bastard!"
Raiko's grin widened. " A parting gift to remember me by, greenskin," he added before turning back to Hex. Grabbing him roughly by the collar, Raiko pulled him close. "Now let's go. It's a week's journey to Krelar, plenty of time for me to show you what I think of thieves."
Raiko dragged Hex away into the dark, his laughter echoing behind them.