by Wolfe Locke
Sven felt a twinge of embarrassment at the mention of his escorting business. "I was trying to find myself. It wasn’t just for the money—"
Galen waved his hand. "One second, Sven. Now, we’ve all done things for money we weren't proud of. What I’m saying is what I assumed was wrong. But this, with you helping those young ones in Infinite Sorrow, it made me think you might consider switching gears. Try being a mentor, a guide, a teacher, hell, even just a trainer. You might find you’re good at it."
"A teacher?" Sven said. How had Galen known that was part of his dream? "You really think I’d be good at that? You think these kids would want to learn from somebody like me? Most of them don’t even know who I am. I introduce myself, and they get weird about it."
A dark expression crossed Galen’s face. "I know that’s tough on you. Guild policy changed. We don’t really advertise who our S-Rankers are anymore. We've had a lot of never again changes, We don't want a repeat of what happened with the Demon Lord Mannon. Besides, you’ve got your tavern, and you’ve got space right here—all that land just outside. This is a good opportunity for you."
"You have a point," Sven admitted, knowing his grace period to pay the city back was almost up. "I could use the extra coins. I refuse to sell my gear or items."
Ash came over and filled up their steins. "Amen. Hoard it. When I die I want it to be with a pack full of elixirs and other items that would have made any one of the hardest fights of my life just a little easier." Galen took a huge gulp of ale.
Sven raised his mug. "I'll cheers to that Hoard it all."
"So yeah," Galen continued with a smile. "You’ll make a little extra coin if you take this up. You might even be able to put three beers on tap instead of just whichever two Lloyd has out at the time."
"I’ll cheers to that too," Sven said as he fetched fresh ale for both of them and handed one to Galen before they clanked their steins together.
"How’s Guild business these days? You guys staying busy with the peace, managing to keep most danger away? What about those undead I wrote to you about a few months back?"
Galen looked down; face suddenly solemn. "Aye. We’ve been breaking even, but not much better. I’ve still got somebody looking into it, but just know there are dark things on the road these days."
"What do you mean? Something else going on besides the issues with those undead?" Sven frowned. He felt like he was so far removed from the pace of information.
"Sven," Galen said. "Didn’t you think it was strange that the King’s Arms has been so empty? Nice work poaching Lloyd, by the way."
"Thanks. The Arms has been dead since I returned and a long time before then," Sven replied.
"It’s been slow for years, you’re right. We’re all getting older and the life isn’t what it was. But totally empty? Like the you're the only one in the bar’ empty? Did that not strike you as strange?" Galen asked, looking at Sven seriously.
Sven thought about it. "Huh, now that you mention it, that is a little weird."
"And how long has it been that way?" Galen pressed.
Sven thought about it again, trying to think back. His head started to get fuzzy, and he winced in pain, the answer not coming to him.
"I don’t know." he guessed, bracing himself against the bench while he waited for the pain to pass. "A few months?" Sven guessed.
Galen nodded sadly. "Something like that. And that’s how exactly how long we’ve been dealing with this problem. Something’s been killing adventurers. I have my suspicions but until I have some leads I've got to keep it close to my chest."
"Something’s always killing adventurers," Sven scoffed. "Half the time, it’s other adventurers doing the killing."
Galen shook his head. "Not for a long time, and definitely not this time. I made sure the Guild moved beyond that. There’s something out there. Not sure what, but people have been disappearing on the roads. They set out as a party and never make it to their destination."
"Huh," Sven said. "I had no idea."
"Guild membership is down forty percent, and we just don’t have enough active high rankers on the rolls to try and protect the new applicants and mid-rangers," Galen said.
"The loss has been a mixture of adventurers getting killed and people getting scared and resigning from the Guild. When we lose members, we lose revenue, and we lose the ability to protect our people."
"Hm." Sven nodded. He needs me to step up. That’s what this is about. I can do more.
"We need new members," Galen said, "and we’re having trouble recruiting. Everyone is scared."
"I see." Sven smiled. "You’ve come to try and strong-arm me into doing the right thing? Of course, I’ll help Galen. Very affordable rates too, I’m not a monster like somebody I know. I won’t take advantage of anyone."
Galen laughed. "I guess you figured it out. My suggestion that you become a teacher had a little bit of an ulterior motive. The training class too? Young adventurers learn from a master—and the Guild gets a steady new supply of coin, say 30% of whatever you charge since I’ll be sending customers your way?"
"That sounds fair," Sven replied, though he was troubled. "But I don’t know how I feel about just sending them out after to be killed by whatever is picking people off."
"Of course not! They won’t just be picked off," Galen said. "They’d have learned from one of the best. They’d be able to defend themselves. Maybe they’d even destroy whatever is out there if none of my high rankers find it in the meantime. You know, make the roads safe again. This is a better way then that hand holding you were doing before."
"Hm," said Sven. "I’ll think about it."
"See that you do!" Galen said, draining his glass in one big gulp. "In the meantime, I’ll be back here a lot. You’ve got a really great operation here. Nice work. Seriously."
Galen stood to go, throwing his cloak over one brawny shoulder, and waved to Ash and Lloyd on his way out.
"Wait," said Sven. "One last thing. Did Krivor come to talk to you? She stopped by here and was being... cryptic? It’s hard to tell when an Arachne is being shady and when they're just being creepy."
Galen froze, and his face darkened. "She did. Of course she did."
"Do you think she’s involved with whatever’s going on?" Sven asked, feeling concerned.
"Couldn’t say," Galen responded with a shrug. "Krivor’s always been...well. You know what I mean. She has her own motives."
Sven knew exactly what Galen meant.
"Whatever she wants," Galen said, throwing his hood up and heading out the door. "Best to stay out of it. Consider that a warning, Sven."
Chapter 20: An Eye on the Past
With a swish and the swirl of a cloak, Galen was gone. The door closing behind him. Leaving Sven alone to nurse his mug of ale alone by the fire and ponder what he'd heard and what Galen had offered. He'd been a good friend to me once, but... Galen can be complicated. It didn't help that the Adventurer's Guild didn't exactly have a great reputation either. They were good with the rank accreditation and helping adventurers out with coins when there weren't buyers for item drops, and could be counted to send help in a pinch. But aside from that, and mobilizing the guild in times of need, that was about the extent of their use.
They can be useful, they've shown that in the past. Like when they sent us all to Mannon. Sven clenched his jaw at the memory and leaned back. He knew the guild could be useful, but they also liked their coins and their gold most of all. Maybe a little too much, and the Guildmasters had a reputation, long before Galen joined their ranks for enjoying fine clothes and weaponry.
Sven stared into the fire, remembering Galen as he'd first encountered him. They'd both been young men then, eager for adventure, full of the promise and power of youth.
The flames burned high in the banquet hall, leaping quickly from table to table as the blaze spread. Sven groaned. It was the worst possible place for a fire to break out. Rich and delicate tapestries hung from the walls, and every surface
was covered with damask and velvet.
A horrified page stood in the center of the room, wailing, an overturned candle next to him on the table. His clumsiness had started the fire, and he'd been wholly forgotten as the banqueting lords raced for the exits.
Sven and Galen were at the end of the room closest to the door. They'd been seated at a table of no particular distinction, far from the fire—as befitted their status as wandering adventurers. Now, given the circumstances, it was one of the best places to be. It would be easy for them to escape.
"Shatterfist!" Galen said. He was thin-faced and scrawny, a lad of the wharf if Sven had ever seen one. "We need to get out of here. NOW."
Sven looked over at the page. The child stood frozen with fear and shame, still crying, knowing he had ruined the whole event and would be punished for it.
"Kid!" he said. No response. "Kid!"
The page looked over at him. An improvement.
"Kid, get over here! We'll help you out! It's fine, just get away from the fire," Sven called out.
Weeping, the young page ran over to Sven and threw his arms around his waist. It was inconvenient, but Sven didn't have the heart to push the kid away.
"Okay, now that you've decided to be a babysitter," Galen said. "That's great. The kid's safe. Now let's move!"
"Wait," Sven said, squatting down to get at the page's level. "Listen to the kid. He's trying to tell us something."
The child was crying almost incoherently, but Sven could make out the same two words over and over again: "My friends!"
The other pages. Of course. Only ten pages served at a feast at a time; the rest stayed in their quarters above the banqueting hall. In the confusion and terror of the fire, no one had remembered them. The child pointed upward with a quivering finger.
"We have to help them!" Sven said, springing into action. Galen didn't move.
"Sven, it won't work," he said, shaking his head. "We'll both die too. We're not fireproof Sven, we weren't even supposed to be here. They'll pin this on us if we get caught."
"Then you take the page out and leave him somewhere safe. I'm heading upstairs. I'm not leaving them to die." Sven responded, his voice edged with conviction.
Galen threw the child over his shoulder and ran. Sven turned and grabbed the pitcher of water off the table and doused himself in it, hoping the moisture would help give him a little bit of protection. He grabbed a damp handkerchief and held it to his mouth and raced into the inferno. It was unbearably hot. Steam rose off of him, and it kept getting hotter. As he watched, one of the posts that held up the hall's second story cracked and collapsed. Sven didn't have much time.
The stairs to the pages' quarters were behind the Great Table, and a massive wall of fire blocked his way. The only way out was through. Gathering his courage, he ran straight at the flames.
Roaring with pain, he made it to the other side. His boots were on fire, and he stamped them out hurriedly. The smoke was so thick that it was hard to see, hard to breathe, and he followed the staircase upwards blindly, hoping that it led to the pages and not a dead end.
The air was filled with screams that louder as he got higher. Panting from the smoke, Sven followed the sound. Finally, he arrived at a massive wooden door. It was already smoldering from the heat. Soon it, too, would be ablaze.
And it was locked. From the inside.
"Open the door!" Sven bellowed. "I’m here to help!"
The only response was more crying. Sven sighed. All right, he’d have to do this the hard way. He kicked the door once, twice, three times with a booted foot, and the latch shattered. He opened it to find the room filled with smoke, and twenty small boys and their nursemaid huddled in the corner.
"I’m Sven the Shatterfist, a C-Ranker with the Guild. Quick," he said, bending down to their level. "I need you to help me. Take all the sheets off the beds and tie them together. We’re going to use them to get out of here!"
Many of the children were frozen with fear, but several had the presence of mind to be helpful. They set about fulfilling Sven’s request while Sven himself shattered a window with one burly elbow.
"Here!" he said, and grabbed the length of fabric from a towheaded page. "You’re going to have to climb down. You’ll be the first. Can you do it?"
The child nodded, eyes wide. Sven lowered the fabric through the window—it was almost, but not quite, long enough to reach the ground. It would have to be enough.
The page wrapped the fabric around his hands and climbed out, arms shaking.
"You can do it," Sven said. "Just close your eyes and keep moving."
The child obeyed, and he conducted himself admirably. There was a rough moment when he reached the end of the rope and found his feet still dangling in the air, but he gathered his courage and dropped to the ground. Sven felt a spark of pride in the little boy—he would be a great warrior someday.
One by one, the children climbed down. One of the servant women who’d brought the food for the pages and had been caught up in the fire was last to go, She hugged Sven before crawling out the window. Sven waited until she was safely on the ground before scrambling down himself. Just as he made it to the ground, the windows in the Lord’s hall all burst from the heat of the fire inside. They had made it out just in time and were quickly collected up by the other members of the household.
The servant looked up at the inferno in shock. "You look like you need a drink," Sven offered as he prepared to slip away. She nodded. Together, they headed to the tavern for well-earned respite. Galen was already there, washed up and wearing a green velvet suit.
"Ah, look. The hero has returned. Glad you made it," he said casually, feet on the table. "Want some ale?"
"Sure," said Sven. "Where’s the page boy?"
"Left him outside the hall. He’ll be fine. Seems like you got the others out all right?"
"I did," Sven said, troubled. "You just left him there?"
Galen shrugged. "He’ll join up with the others soon enough. Kids like that are tough. You know that, I know that, we’re both working lads. Even if you grew up in the city and me a child of the wharf.
Sven sipped his ale uneasily. Galen had had a tough time growing up, just like Sven. He’d been born on a saffron farm, one of seventeen children. His mother had died when he was very young, and his father’s new wife hadn’t suffered fools, nor had she had much love for her husband’s children. His father had been single-mindedly focused on each season’s saffron crop and hadn’t had much time to spare for his sons. Galen had left home young, and it had taken a week for anyone to notice he was gone. By that time, he was already in the city, sleeping in doorways and stealing bread from the Tuesday market.
Where Sven’s hardships had left him wanting to protect others, Galen’s had left him tough and distant, focused on survival above all else. He’d been a generous friend—up to a point—but always kept an eye on his own advancement. When Sven had returned and found Galen had become one of the Guildmasters, he hadn’t been surprised.
Back in the tavern, Sven sighed. What was Galen up to and did he know more than he was letting on? Or was Sven just being paranoid? Time alone would tell.
Something is going on. Something is wrong.
Ash spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. "I thought he’d never leave. Lloyd needs some help moving a few barrels, and I need to talk to you about something."
Sven’s heart dropped. These talks never went well. "What is it?"
She grinned. "A party. We should throw a party."
Chapter 21: A Life Well Lived
A few days later saw Sven and Ash in the middle of the Adventurer’s Rest putting into action the plans they had made.
"All right! I did it." Ash said gleefully as she teetered precariously a stool as she tried to hang a garland of purple stars from the hook she had just attached to the tavern ceiling. "Is this straight? Does it look good?"
"A little to the left," Sven said, wondering why he had agreed to this as he held the chair i
n place so she wouldn’t fall over. "It looks good though, I think this will be a lot of fun. Why did you just magic it up there though?"
Ash turned and gave him the dirtiest look he had seen on her face. "Sven, anything worth doing right, is worth doing yourself. Do you know anything about girls? This is fun for me."
I know plenty. Sven thought dismissively. "Alright, if that’s how you want it done, I’ll leave you to it then."
By her own description, the mage was throwing a "Razzle Dazzle Spring Fling Soiree". Despite what she had just said, it hadn’t stopped her from enchanting posters into birds and sending them to fly in all directions to advertise the event.
Lots of people will probably show up tonight too. Ash had pulled out all the stops. Paper stars and paper flowers in every color of spring hung from the tavern’s rafters and covered every free surface. I have to admit, she has a knack for these kind of things.
Sven noticed that several very large and ornate vases had been placed around the bar and on every table as a centerpiece. Each held fresh bouquets of flowers, grasses and leaves. He blanched. Those look expensive. Where did those come from? I don’t remember signing off on it.
"Woooah," Ash cried out as she almost lost her balance, Sven got up and went to catch her, but she righted herself before falling. "Thanks Sven. I got it though."
Sven nodded as he gave her a smile. It’s good to see her like this. Ash had even brought in some river rocks that she had cajoled Sven to haul out of the river. Yeah, that part was pretty miserable. I was dripping and cold, but looks like it was worth it. Once they had dried, the mage had enchanted them to glow in vibrant and clashing colors that added to the overall visual effect. "You’re going to love this," Ash teased with a wink. "They change with sound."