Rainhall’s home in Sheran wasn’t much to look at, at least compared to the noble houses in Milagre. It was well-constructed, three-storied, and freshly painted, but a lot of the typical intricate etching was missing. The windows were also wooden shutters, not glass. Still, Eric thought, craning his neck back and studying it, it looked comfortable enough. More than sufficient to only use a day or two while he was in Sheran for business.

“Eric, Johan,” Sergeant Moran appeared from inside and beckoned them closer. He held two small piles of coins in his hand. “Here’s your pay for the trip. Report back day after tomorrow at dawn.”

Eric accepted the small pile of coins handed to him and nodded in acknowledgment of the order. Glancing down, he noted five gold. Not a bad rate, all things considered. He waited for Johan to collect his own pay, which seemed to be a few coins more, then the two of them made their slow way out of the fenced area that enclosed the small estate. Now that they were officially off-duty, Eric allowed his posture to relax and could feel Johan doing the same.

“So this good food you mentioned,” Eric said in an aside. “Where exactly can I find it?”

Johan ended up leading him to a place along the edge of the docks. It was a fairly ordinary building, unremarkable save for the loud noises of drinking and singing people inside. It comprised a single floor and seemed to be spacious enough. A heavily weathered sign hung over the door on a metal rod, swinging in the slight breeze. Eric craned his neck to try and read the words painted on the surface, but they were very difficult to make out.

“The Sparrow’s Nest,” Johan informed him. “It’s a famous place.”

“Surely they could afford to repaint if they’re famous,” Eric muttered. Upon closer inspection, the walls seemed especially rickety, as if one strong gust of ocean wind would topple the entire building over.

Johan let out a loud laugh. “You try to keep pain fresh next to the ocean. It may not look like much, but it’s the best food in Sheran. The chef here even rivals Mandra.”

Eric looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. That information, more than anything, was convincing enough for him to give the place a try. Offering a slight shrug, he pushed his way through the rough door and stepped inside. The interior couldn’t be more different. Well-polished bar, tables, and chairs shone with the light of many lanterns spread throughout the taproom. They were placed expertly, ensuring that none of the room was cast into shadow, but still avoiding blinding nearby people. Even as Eric watched, however, a woman came out from behind the bar and began extinguishing them.

The sun had risen properly outside, and its pale yellow light sparked off the metal of the tankards and silverware as the door opened. Several people glanced around at the newcomers, sparing them one friendly glance before returning to their conversation. As Eric stepped over the threshold, a band in the corner started up a new song, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. Eric hesitated momentarily, taken aback by the sheer volume of the establishment. It was a bit much after their quiet morning.

Johan gave him a quick push in the back to get him going, then led him quickly to a table that was off to the side. He grinned at the stunned look on Eric’s face as they both sat down, and leaned forward so that he could be heard more easily.

“Not a quiet place, is it?”

Eric shook his head slowly. “The Heron isn’t nearly as loud as this.”

“Different scene,” Johan shrugged. “Evening, Jessica.”

A serving lady had appeared at their table, seeming to teleport out of the crowd. Eric flinched slightly at her sudden appearance, his nerves jangling with the noise. He definitely didn’t like crowds or loud spaces, and this qualified as both without a doubt. She favored Johan with an extra-wide smile, leaning down and putting her hands on the table. To Eric’s surprise, she kissed Johan for several long seconds, and he responded eagerly.

“Welcome back Johan,” she said as she pulled away. “You took your time coming back. I almost had to find me another man.”

“Good luck with that,” he chuckled. Then, noticing Eric’s discomfort and obvious confusion, he explained. “Eric, this is my… girlfriend Jessica. Jess, this is Eric. He’s the baby bird of the group.”

Jessica flashed him a wide grin, her eyes sparking with interest. “Well well well. You seem like a good fit for the job. At least you don’t have a big head like Johan here.”

Johan grinned at the jibe and gave her a quick pinch on the side. She yelped and jumped back, then slapped his hand away as he tried to do it again. “Keep that up, soldier boy, and you’ll be alone tonight.”

Johan’s smirking face instantly changed to one of mock concern. “Yes ma’am. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

She rolled her eyes, then turned to Eric. “What would you like to eat and drink then, Eric? It’s all good food, you can be sure of that.”

“Surprise me,” he said, relaxing a little from the initial shock of the crowd. “As long as it’s hot.”

“You got it,” she said with a grin. “Oh, Johan, we’ve got some more of that Attosian Ale. Want a bottle?”

“But of course,” he replied at once. “Thomas cooking?”

“Thomas is always cooking,” she replied with another roll of her eyes. “I think he slept in the kitchen last night.”

Johan pulled out a gold coin and flicked it to her. She caught it with a single deft movement and squirreled it away into a pocket of her apron. Eric made a movement to fish some coins out as well, but she fixed him with a stern look and shook her head.

“Meal’s on me tonight, Eric. The gold is for the bottle, but the food is free.”

“Well at least let me split the cost of the bottle,” he said. He knew a little about ale from medieval times, and he’d had its modern equivalent a few times. It was rather tasty. Jessica started to shake her head slowly again, but Johan, perhaps understanding his dislike of charity, put up a hand to forestall her.

“Alright then, Eric,” he said evenly. “Give me five silvers.”

Jess glanced at him, and some kind of silent message passed between them. Eric failed to catch it, however, as he was busy digging around in his coin pouch. It emitted a cheerful jingling sound as he dug, and he fished out five shining, silver coins, placing them in Johan’s hand. He grinned his understanding, then nodded at Jessica, who, with a slight shrug, moved away to the kitchen.

“You’re a good man, Eric,” Johan said. “That sort of honest spirit will suit you in this line of work.”

“You’re not going to say that I also need nerves of steel, are you?” Eric replied, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Or that I need to have a killer instinct?”

“You already have those,” Johan said with a snort. “The way you just dove at those bandits? You’ll be fine.”

Eric grinned across the table at him, and they lapsed into casual conversation, discussing everything from the bandit attack on their caravan to the chaotic Market Day in which he’d been hired. Johan asked him what he thought of Milagre and Tyrman so far, and listened with interest as Eric spoke of his experiences. He told his new friend about Emma, who, to his surprise, Johan knew.

“Yes, she’s quite a healer. She and her father have been operating their store for many years now, and her grandmother before them. They’re well-known in Milagre, and many like them.”

“Emma’s certainly something,” Eric muttered, more to himself. Johan raised an eyebrow at the comment but otherwise didn’t reply.

“So how long do I have to work before I can get some of the special training that the Guild offers?”

“Well,” Johan said expansively, leaning back in his chair. “It depends. You know that they take some of the cost out of your pay. But you can pay for it yourself as well. They simply subtract what you’ve already paid, and you pay the rest.”

“So I just complete this training, and I earn access to higher jobs?” Eric asked. It seemed like a promising opportunity. “How much does training cost?”

“It’s pretty pricey,” Johan admitted. “Eighty gold for Journeyman training, which is the next level for you. Two hundred after that, then four hundred for the Adept Rank. Once you’re an Adept, you can be given an official rank within The Black Hand.”

“Like Sergeant Moran.”

“Indeed. He’s been at this work for nearly six years, so he’s got a lot of experience under his belt. Most pay their way to the rank, but I advise against it.”

“Why?” Eric asked. “Surely it’s better to get the training out of the way, isn’t it?”

Johan shook his head slowly, but firmly. “Nay. You can always spot the men from rich families who paid their way through training. They’re still fresh as a recruit, and with no experience to boot. Go through it like Moran did, and you’ll be fine.”

Eric mulled that over, thinking through what Johan said until Jessica returned with two loaded plates. She set one in front of each of them, then went back and fetched their bottle. The food looked excellent. A small roasted bird of some kind, cut into thick slices, with what looked like roasted asparagus spears, and a small saucer holding a dark sauce. Eric dipped a finger into the sauce and tasted it, identifying it as some kind of garlic. Obeying his growling stomach, he poured the sauce over the meat and stabbed a large chunk with his fork, tearing off a large piece and chewing.

“Someone’s hungry,” Johan commented with a grin, then started devouring his food with the same enthusiasm. They both ate, preferring to fill their stomachs instead of talking. For a while, the only sounds were the scraping of fork against plate, and grunts of appreciation at the good food. The dinner was further improved as Johan uncorked the bottle of ale and poured them both a tall glass. It was sweet but crisp, and slightly cold.

One plate soon turned into two as the hunger asserted itself, and they wolfed down the second plate nearly as quickly. Finally, once they had both eaten their fill, they relaxed back in their chairs, patting their stomachs and letting a notch or two out of their belts. They let out a sigh at the exact same time, grinning lazily across the bar.

“Good recommendation,” Eric said. “I gotta listen to you more often.”

“Music to my ears,” Johan replied. “But tomorrow you’re on your own. Jess will kill me if I don’t spend the day with her. Worse, she might leave me.”