There was no gate, landmarks or checkpoints that divide the Southern District from the rest of Yachium but everyone who lived in the city knew the moment they entered the district. As a former resident, Arnel was no exception. The first thing you would notice was how much darker the street was. Candles were expensive and far fewer households in the Southern District could afford them. The smell was another indication. The smell of vomit and piss float in the air but it was when he noticed a man in a dark alley eyeing him that Arnel truly knew he had entered the district proper. Arnel didn’t back down, doing so would just mean you are prey, but instead looked back at the man as he walked steadily past the alley. He walked past without incident as the would-be robber decide to wait for easier marks. Arnel continued on till he saw the street to the Southern Gate. He took a left to go off the main street and walked till he reached his destination, a small non-descript wooden building. The windows were closed but from the outside it looks dirty, uncomfortable and cheerless. He paused at the door and look at the faded sign hanging over the door. The Happy Tankard Tavern was the ironic name. Arnel took a deep breath and walked in.

The tavern itself is almost completely empty. The bar itself was empty saved for the bartender and the few people inside were sitting at various tables in ones and twos. The tavern was as gloomy inside as it was on the outside with light provided only by a few molten candles attached to the three beams supporting the building. The few people inside stared at Arnel, their eyes warning him away, and that was just fine for him. He went to the bar, ordered an ale and waited. When the mug came, the bartender just placed it in front of Arnel, making no effort to acknowledge his presence expect to take the coppers he placed on the bar. Arnel took a sip and found that the ale was surprisingly good. He stood at the bar and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Nice evening for a drink yeah?”

Arnel stayed silent, sipping his drink, while taking a quick look at the man who had slide up to him. You can ask any Guardsman of Yachium and you would hear a lot of the man that was Rusty Augus. He was a criminal, liar, and thief. He was discreet, organized and capable. He was all of the above and then some! In short, Rusty Augus was a man well-known to the Guardsmen of Yachium. Suspected of having a hand in a hundred crimes, he was never caught for any of them as he never did the crimes themselves. He only introduce the criminals to the jobs. In short, Rusty was a fixer. You need something done that was less than legal, then Rusty had a man for the job…for the right price of course.

As a veteran, Arnel had of course heard of him and he knew The Happy Tankard Tavern was the fixer’s base of operations. The two strangers drank in silence, neither willing to be the first to break. Only when he finished his drink did Arnel spoke.

“Want another?”

“Don’t mind if I do my ugly friend.”

Arnel ignored the jape and ordered two mugs from the bartender. The ale arrived promptly and the bartender immediately moved away after collecting the coppers. Tired of the wait, Arnel spoke first.

“You always so friendly?”

“Usually no. Rusty Augus is known to be a cautious man, but times has changed.”

“How so?”

“Bad time for business,” the fixer admitted. “Even for men like us.”

Arnel took another sip of his ale, trying his best to look like he was deep in thought. He then gave a pretentious sigh. “Things here are worse than I heard.”

“So you’re a foreigner. Make sense why I never seen you around. When did you arrive to the city and from where?”

“Came in this afternoon. I’m from several places. Here to deliver some goods for some good folks.” Arnel had decided his story beforehand, hoping that some mysterious backers would grease the wheels along. “Hoping to find some good men to help me along in fact.”

“Oh then you came to the right place. Tell me, what are delivering to our fair city?”

“Just some simple goods. Spices…of the exotic kind.”

The fixer took a drink from his mug and Arnel waited for the reply. “A large amount?”

“Not really,” Arnel tried to sound as if he was admitting this reluctantly. “Just need a few heads to turn the other way at the right time is all.”

“Is that all? Makes some wonder why you would need help in such a simple thing.”

The fixer was no fool but Arnel came in with a ready response. “Call it a test of trustworthiness.”

Arnel had to admit the fixer was good. Even in the face of future business, he was calm and his face barely twitch. Then the fixer made his decision.

“When would your goods be entering the city?”

“Three days.”

“Come back tomorrow. I may have something for you.”

The two would-be criminals quietly stood beside each other for a time to finish their ale. Then Arnel quietly left. A few of the locals in the tavern took a look at him as he left, one of them smiling wickedly at him. Arnel knew then that most of them were just feigning disinterest in his conversation with Rusty. If he had tried anything, most of the tavern would have attacked.

Arnel stepped out onto the street and headed back towards The Lazy Swan. He took his time, going in a roundabout way, and checking several times to make sure he wasn’t followed. When he was certain he wasn’t being followed, he ducked into an alley and changed his face back to the one he entered the city with. It was very late when he finally got back to the inn. He walked up to his room and found that Jeffery was still up. Ransford was asleep in the sole bed and Arnel told the big mutant there was no need to wake him or call Meadow in the other room. He gave a brief rundown of his trip to his companion before laying down on the floor. He fell asleep almost immediately.

It had been a long day.