The sun was stretching down to the horizon, reaching with all its worth to touch it as the group crested a hill. The troupe was plodding along a wide dirt path, keeping to the right to allow the occasional mounted adventurer pass.

“Hold your fiery horses, you’ll sink below the horizon soon enough,” Devin mumbled to the setting sun.

“Ya say something lad?” Murton asked. Since they’d left the forest and travelled on the road his mood has improved considerably.

“He’s grumbling about the sun setting,” Teryn said. Devin shot the half elf a glare.

“I just want to make sure we are in town before it sets completely,” Devin said.

“Why?” Murton asked.

“Parade of Guilds,” Griff murmured. Murton glanced up at the gargantuan man.

“Yer mighty outspoken today, I think that was five words so far.”

“Four,” Griff said.

“And now its five,” Murton broke into a wide grin as Griff’s face darkened.

Teryn turned to Devin, “What's wrong with the Parade of Guilds?”

“Nothing, I just don’t want to get caught when the Parade starts. The streets are full of jackasses who won't move and scream and cry and worship the shitty Guilds that march through there.” Devin found himself speaking louder than intended as he finished, his face growing flushed.

Murton turned towards Devin slowly and looked as though the worlds best idea had dawned on him. The grin split his face even wider until it looked as though he would crack right in half.

“Bronn is going to be marching in this Parade, isn’t he?”

“Shut up,” Devin retorted.

“Bronn, of Bronn’s Buyable Blades? Isn't he the richest, most famous leader of a Guild in all of Mossglenn Depot?” Teryn asked, her voice dripping with a rotten sweetness.

Griff growled, a low rumble that nearly shook the ground around them.

“All right, easy does it big guy, you know we are just having a bit of fun at Devin’s expense.” Teryn said.

“Thank you Griff. At least someone here is kind enough to avoid mentioning the name of the asshole who stole BBB from us. Black Boar Band was registered first and BBB is ours!” Devin said.

Murton and Teryn just shrugged, while Griff quit growling. The group slowly trudged up a hill, cresting it to find Mossglenn Depot laid before them in all of its bifurcated glory.

The western side of the city rested on a natural harbor, with low lying buildings spilling away from the port in haphazard fashion. The river Trite ran right through the middle of the city, splitting the north and south sides. The north contained people with money and some of the bigger guilds, sweeping into the ever increasing size of mansions as you went northeast until you culminated in the largest guild houses and the Council of Guilds sitting on the single hill of the city.

Juxtaposed to the splendor and avariciousness of the north, the southern portion, especially nearer to the harbor, were the poorer people and those who were just down on their luck. The Darkmeat District was the worst of all of these. Beggars lined the unclean streets with crippled and war torn brothers and sisters. No one who lived here could pay enough to a cleaning crew to keep the area clean in a city where private enterprise ran rampant.

Sitting in between both sides of the river on a massive island was the Contract Hall, home to all the jobs any registered Guild in Mossglenn Depot could ask for. It was the lifeblood of the city and where anyone could make, or break, their entire fortune.

As the group approached Mossglenn Depot from the east, they turned left to enter the Southern Gate. They approached the guards at the gate who let them pass with a disinterested wave. What harm could four ragamuffins such as yourself do, they seemed to be saying.

They entered Guerra District, the wealthiest of the districts south of the river. The avenues were wide and cobblestoned, polished smooth by the constant foot traffic and cart wheels. People were bustling about, dressed in all manners of clothes and costumes. Silk and cotton garments intermingled in a clash of reds, purples, and blues. The absolute madness of what dictated fashion in this city always gave Devin pause.

He saw women with thick, woolen, high collared dresses. How they could stand to be outside wearing so much, even in the autumn, was beyond him. Beside those women were others in barely more than undergarments. This caused him to flush a little bit. He was no prude, but they were braver people than he was, exposing so much skin.

The style of clothing did not discriminate between men or women. Some women wore dresses while others preferred pants and shirts. On the flip side, some of the men were strutting their stuff in small skirts they called kilts. Devin shrugged as a group of men in particularly small kilts walked by and a gust of air gave him an eyeful of hairy buttocks. To each their own he supposed.

A trumpet sounded behind the group, back towards the gate, and the crowd started surging towards the shops on the side of the avenue. Elbows and shoulders pushed and prodded, squeezing him and the others into a tight bunch near a deli. Wafts of spiced ham and boiled lamb teased his nose, but his attention was soon diverted towards the end of the road.

Coming around a corner by the gate, a large procession was starting with two trumpet blowing men riding camels up front. A banner with two crossed swords imposed over the mark of silver was flying in the hand not occupied by a trumpet.

“Oh no,” Devin groaned. “Guys, we need to get out of here now.” It was no use appealing to his crew members, the noise of the incoming parade and crowd around him drowned any idle talk out. The tightness of the crowd did not look like it would lend itself to letting him shuffle through anyways. Devin groaned again and resigned himself to the fact he would have to watch yet another flamboyant and in his face parade of Bronn’s Buyable Blades.

The procession kept coming around the far corner from the north. Devin mused on how they wouldn't possibly enter from the South gate when they came back to the city with their spoils, that gate was for the lowly people of Mossglenn Depot, people like him and the Black Boar Band.

Donkeys loaded with heavy bags ambled past, likely filled with treasures. Behind them came oxen loaded with treasure chests, one strapped to each side of the lumbering beasts. Dozens of men and women in fine armor with fine weapons came sauntering after the oxen. They waved to the crowds lazily, clearly revelling in the fame of being part of this company.

Devin rolled his eyes as the people became even more excited around him as a great golden carriage began to round the corner. The carriage was an abomination of luxury and waste in his eyes. It rolled on eight wheels, and was pulled by a team of golden plumed Moa, each standing over ten feet tall. The team of ten flightless birds pulled the carriage, gazing around the crowds with even more indifference and haughtiness than the previous men and women, if that was possible.

The carriage itself was more of a platform with a small shed-like building on top than an actual carriage. Devin could see the most famous of Bronn’s Buyable Blades mercenaries up top. The crowd around him recognized them as well, judging from their excited whispers.

“There’s Massive Mona!” The giant of a woman, bigger than their own Griff, waved her tree trunk like forearms around, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh look it's the Silent Seductress! I heard she seduced twenty five men and thirteen women all at once, then ate their hearts.” A purple skinned succubus looked disinterested, examining her twin sabres instead of engaging the crowd.

“Longshot Gabe! He can hit an apple from the head of the king hisself! From another continent!” The golden haired man, opposite to the succubus, clearly loved the attention. He waved and wiggled his eyebrows at every woman in the crowd.

“Look! Look! Tim is floating up top!” The wizard, with flowing black hair and beard, sat cross legged in the air, hovering on top of the carriage riding compartment.

Devin rolled his eyes at the comments, “Buncha posers and liars more like.”

He turned to get confirmation from his band but found them just as enthralled as the crowd. A cheer roared through the crowd and directed his attention back to the carriage, which had nearly come level to his spot in the street.

The doors of the small building, or riding compartment, were thrown open and a blonde man with short cropped hair man stepped out. He was strikingly handsome, with a chiseled face accented by a scar running down his right cheek that only served to make him look better. His blue eyes were the color of ice and had an uncanny ability to penetrate anyone he looked at. A giant sword with an ivory handle was strapped across his back, resting in a sheath made of the same ivory and etched with all manner of markings and writings.

He swaggered to the front of the carriage and placed his hands on his hips, sweeping his eyes over the crowd as a cockish grin exposed perfectly straight, white teeth. The crowd roared even louder, calling out his name.

“Bronn! Bronn”

“I love you Bronn!”

“Fuckin’ Bronn,” Devin growled. No one heard him though as the crowd continued to cry out. Bronn raised his hands and the din died down nearly immediately, leaving an unsettling hush.

“Friends, brothers, sisters, and lovers.” The last bit prompted several squeals of delight from many women and a few men in the crowd. “I have returned from a harrowing journey deep into the wilds of the Frostbite Mountains. My band and I, Bronn’s Buyable Blades, purchasable by anyone with enough coin, defeated many monsters! We even slew an Ice Dragon and have brought back its hoard!”

Excited murmurings shivered through the throng of people lining the streets. The carriage was now level and slowly sliding past Devin. Behind it he could see the parade seemed to repeat itself, more adventurers, ox, and mules carrying insane amounts of treasure. Though he tried his best not to be, Devin could not help but be impressed at the sheer amount of wealth on display in front of him.

Bronn raised his hands again to call for silence. “Because I have acquired an obscene amount of wealth, I felt that the best course of action is to make sure those who have helped me feel some of its kindness.”

His eyes came around and locked on Devin, somehow it seemed like he was able to single him out easily from the crowd. A sneer marred the perfect grin as he stared into his very being. “I especially want to help those who are, shall we say, less fortunate than I am.”

Bronn turned away from Devin and shouted into the crowd, “And who better to share this with than the city who puts up with me and my guild? Coins for everyone!”

As he finished the men and women to the front and back of the carriage began to open the treasure chests on the oxen. They scooped handfuls of Silvers into mailed hands and flung them into the crowd. The quiet was broken by roaring and cheering, along with a mad scramble for the flinging coins.

Devin pushed his way through the tangle of limbs and writhing bodies to find his guildmates scrounging on the ground with the rest of them. Even solemn Griff was on his hands and knees, scooping up every coin he could.

“Let's get out of here before the knives come out and people start sticking each other for money,” Devin shouted to his group, trying to be heard of the clamor. They glanced up at him.

“Yeah, yer probably right. I got enough to treat myself anyways,” Murton beamed, standing up to his full height of five foot, or five foot and a half and inch as he would undoubtedly correct. Griff came up with pockets bulging and grunted. Teryn finished stuffing coins into hidden pockets in her robe and nodded.

The group sidled through the mass of people crawling around as more coins flew through the air around them. Biting his tongue, and his pride, Devin caught a few of the coins and scooped a handful more from a pile who’s owner was too busy snatching more coins from the pocket of a man on the ground next to him.