I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in one of the polished windows by the Guild's lobby as I passed through it. In it, the same youthful face looked back at me, but my eyes looked a bit tired, reminding me of how I always looked. Trying to shake off the feeling, not wanting to return to that life, I made my way to the quest board. The broad wooden structure bore overlapping sheets of parchment of all types of kinds and from different origins, not only from this city. There were job postings, bounty notices, and even some missing pet flyers or guard-for-hire ads. Some pages were crisp and newly written, while others hung askew or curled at the edges, yellow from age. Standing there, I skimmed them, searching for something that required minimal risk yet had a decent payoff. Well, decent in my eyes... With my precarious finances, it wasn't time for heroics.
Rat Extermination in the Old Town's Sewers—5 coppers per tail. Hm. Maybe.
Escort Varj Merchant's Goods to Next Town—negotiable. Hm... But that would mean leaving Korvar, and I wasn't sure the Guild would approve my departure yet.
Lost Cat: Grey Tabby. Answers to 'Mookie'—10 coppers if returned alive.
I suppressed a groan. These wouldn't get me anywhere near the coin I needed. Some bigger contracts involved subduing wild beasts near farmland or investigating rumored bandit sightings. No thanks—I just walked away from a bandit ambush. Besides, I was still under watch and couldn't leave the city. Not to mention, I had a guess that The Guild might step in if I took on any larger job or deny me altogether of participating in it.
"Well, this sucks..." I murmured while scribbling a few notes to keep in mind. "I'll figure out something eventually," I mumbled to myself, but first, I am going to need to learn my way around the city.
After leaving the Guild Hall, I moved through the bustling streets of Korvar, this time without anyone recognizing and stopping me. Each district felt like a different world, and I got lost in the feeling of this different yet familiar landscape. The Market Square teemed with color and chatter, while the Artisan Quarter was noisy from the multiple blacksmiths' constant hammerings. As I walked the cobblestone roads, every so often, I caught the swirl of foreign spices or heard the whistle of someone hawking wares, trying to catch the attention of people passing by.
I tried to fix the city layout in my head, but it was proving to be hard to do so. It was bigger than I'd imagined from the vantage point of that hill. With each turn, I mentally noted landmarks—a half-collapsed tower by an old gate, a fountain carved with another batch of raven motifs, and a cluster of rickety stalls selling cheap-looking gear. It might be worth remembering where not to buy things… Still, after hours of walking, it was hard to determine the layout of Korvar. It was... chaotic.
Eventually, I strayed beyond the more polished streets into narrow back alleys, the kind of places that city officials pretend don't exist. There were parts of my old city too where people only went when there was no other choice... The cobblestones here were cracked and grimy; the air stank of garbage thrown into the side alleys and from spilled stale ale. If there were a place to find the city's underbelly, this was it.
Rounding a corner, I managed to stumble onto a shady transaction taking place under a flickering lantern. Just my luck... I knew at once that I had taken a wrong turn, and this wasn't the best space to be.
Two figures stood close to each other, speaking in hushed tones. I also noticed multiple small glass vials trading hands. Those had to be potions or something like that, the same thing I saw on some adventurers' belts. At least, I guessed by the faint glimmer of colored liquid within. It could have been energy drinks... As I stood there, the first figure, slender and twitchy like a drug addict, extended a trembling hand to grab the vials while the second, a broader silhouette in a sharp coat, watched like a hawk.
As soon as the goods changed hands, the twitchy man jerked back and spun on his heel, making a run for it. Idiot. He clutched the potions tightly to his chest, ignoring the bigger man's outstretched palm waiting for payment.
"Oi!" The big man lunged, but the runner twisted free like a cat and dashed down the alley—straight toward me.
I reacted on instinct, stepping sideways and hooking a foot out, a reflex from years of half-remembered training. The instant he got caught in my comical move, the thief's momentum sent him stumbling forward like a sack of dirt. He crashed hard, potions clattering across the cobblestones with a muted rattle, and to my surprise, they proved to be really sturdy as none of them shattered. Before he could regain his balance, I pinned him in place with a knee to the shoulder. If I decide to involve myself, let's do it thoroughly, I said to myself.
The bigger man in the coat arrived a moment later, breathing heavily. A couple more tough-looking types emerged from the shadows, all eyes on me and the squirming thief. By their attire—long coats, crisp collars, some wearing hats with wide brims—they gave off a typical gangster vibe but with a fantasy spin to it. I almost caught myself smiling at the thought before realizing I was in a fantasy world right now. Each wore a small raven brooch or pin, not quite the same as the city's official emblem, but... whatever. It seems this city is obsessed with birds. As I looked, I noticed that one of them had a short sword strapped under his coat like a concealed firearm.
"Kid," the broad-shouldered man rumbled, eyes flicking to my bronze bracelet. "Thanks for stoppin' our rat." He nudged the thief with a boot, scooping up the potions the guy had tried to steal. "What's your angle?"
"Angle?" I asked as I rose carefully, letting the whimpering thief slump against the alley wall. "No angle," I answered warily. "He was about to run me over, so I stopped him. That's all."
"Huh." He smirked as he gave me a once-over. "Well, you did us a favor. C'mon. Let's talk."
Part of me wanted to decline and vanish. Another part, though, recognized this might be an opportunity—especially if these folks had connections that could help a broke adventurer. So I hesitated only for a second, then nodded at the man.
"Lead the way."
They guided me through a maze of another set of back alleys until we arrived at a dimly lit cellar entrance beneath a rundown warehouse. The inside was surprisingly clean. Ornate lanterns revealed crates stacked along the walls, a few tables scattered with documents, and overhead beams from which hung various dried herbs. Turning my head to take in all, I saw that one corner boasted shelves crammed with small glass vials. Several men and women, wearing that same mix of old-fashioned suits and leathers, stood guard or idly polished weapons while another group filled the vials with differently colored liquids.
"Come, boy. My name is Cravik, by the way." My escort introduced himself while leading me forward.
"Auriel," I answered simply.
"Boss ain't here, but I can answer your questions. Or at least, we'll figure out if we can do business together."
"Business?" I asked as I was still studying the potions being arranged on a nearby table. Each bottle glimmered with different colors. Reds, blues, greens, some with flecks of gold mix into them. "You guys… deal in drinks?"
"You could say that." A wiry older woman in a pinstriped vest smirked, hearing me calling it that. "In these parts, we're the biggest potion dealers you'll find. At least, if you want the good stuff." She tapped a vial of watery orange fluid. "Name's Risa. Looks like you're new to the city?"
"Hello, I'm Auriel. And... Yes..." I shrugged, not sure how much to reveal. "New enough," I admitted. "I've… heard of potions," I lied, playing a kind of country-bumpkin role, "but not how they work exactly. My Pa always called them drinks."
At that, a few gangsters exchanged amused glances, some even laughing like it was a good joke. Cravik gestured for me to come closer to the table, even pushing some of the vials into my hand to have a good look.
"These are more than drinks, kiddo! I guess your trainers didn't let you try them out, right? Stingy bastards." He elbowed me, acting as if we were old friends, "You see, kid, humans ain't got magic in their bones like them damn elves. They rely on potions to get a taste of it. And that's where we come in."
"I see... Now it makes sense why my masters were faster than I ever could be." I added with another lie while my mind was racing and my heart was beating like crazy... Magic. Now we are talking! He picked up a pale blue vial while I was registering all he was saying.
"Hah! Yeah, exactly! This one here is for Frost Grip. You drink it; you can freeze small amounts of water or ice up your blade for a short time. Good for catchin' folks off-guard if they think you've got no magic up your sleeve." He set it down, grabbing a deep-purple concoction next. "This is Shadowstep—it helps you move quietly in the dark. Actually, muffles your footsteps if you're careful. Don't wear heavy armor, though, or it will still make ample noise!"
"And," Risa stepped in. "Ours are not some amateur shit that only lasts a minute or so. Some of our stuff, the good ones, can go for hours." I started to feel as if they were trying to sell me drugs. Maybe they were. "But... Overuse 'em, and your body's the one that pays. Headaches, muscle damage… if you push it, you'll kill yourself. So don't mix these drinks, boy!"
"Yeah!" Cravik tapped my chest with a finger. "Ain't wise to down more than two or three in a row, or you'll burn out. Some folks don't care, or they don't realize how big the risk is." He shot a glance toward the unconscious thief by the door. "That's how we end up with desperate idiots tryin' to run off without paying. It fries your brain and makes you an idiot."
I nodded slowly, absorbing their words. My mind flashed to the earlier dream about haggling at potion stalls. Perhaps the other Auriel had known all this. Me? This was the first time I'd heard it laid out so frankly, and it was already worth it to stop that addict. This was invaluable for me!
"So… you guys are an organization that sells these under the table?" I ventured, smiling.
"Hehe! You hear the guy?" A short laugh ran through the group. "We prefer to say we provide a premium service—special potions that might not pass the various guilds' official stamp," Risa explained. "Or sometimes, regular potions for folks with… questionable means. You see, there are people who are banned from getting their hands on it. Criminals who were wrongly accused, of course, can't buy them. But not all potions are contraband. We do legit sales, too."
"We ain't the city guard, obviously, but we got a code." Cravik continued after he crossed his arms. "You helped us out, so we appreciate that. If you ever need potions on short notice—or you're lookin' to make some coin without goin' through the guilds—come find us." He nodded toward a crate filled with sealed vials. "There's always a demand for certain ingredients. If you're the adventurin' type, that might interest you, yeah?"
I considered it. They were criminals, or close enough, but they were also a potential lifeline. They could be someone who might pay me under the table and let me skip dealing with official channels. My gaze lingered on the swirling colors within the glass in my hands before putting it back down.
"Good to know," I said, trying to keep my tone nonchalant. "I'll keep it in mind; I may need to take up on your offer in the near future."
"We'll get along fine, kid." A wry grin spread across Cravik's face. "By the way, you can call us the Crowfoot Gang. We're a… family business." He lifted a black leather glove, displaying an emblem with a stylized raven's foot. "And you… you can let us know if you wanna chat again. Our turf's not that hard to find once you know where to look." He said, whispering an address into my ears, "Maybe then the Boss will also be back, so we can introduce you."
After a few more minutes of polite small talk and curious stares from a couple of rough-looking enforcers, I excused myself. They let me leave unimpeded, apparently satisfied with the day's outcome. Outside, the sunlight had begun its slow retreat, the angles of the shadows growing sharp.
I took a deep breath after I was back on a street that I remembered, knowing where to go to head back to the Guild. Well, that happened. My heart was still pounding from confronting the would-be thief, from meeting these, well, fantasy gangsters, and from hearing how potions truly worked... And if I wanted an alternative path to money, I might have found it.
The question was whether I dared stray from the relative rules of the Guild to dabble in the Crowfoot Gang's under-the-table dealings. Or maybe I can play both sides until I figure out which suits me best. My lips tightened at the thought. Perhaps I'll do the exploiting in this life if I have to.
"No." I told myself.
It was a horrible feeling, and I would only do it to those who try to take advantage of me first. Yes. I don't want to inflict the same suffering on regular people... But those who try to fuck with me? Well, that suddenly feels as if it would be a perfectly valid response...