As Gunnar turns down Market Place with Caw in the lead, his breath feels laboured, but his mind focuses on the mission at hand. Reaching the entrance to the Hall, Caw’s tongue flops out, and a panting Gunnar flings open the door, hoping that Pela hasn’t finished work.

As he opens the great oak doors, he spots Pela still serving a few people on the floor. Breathing his relief, Gunnar marches up to Pela and waits until she finishes her task.

As Pela turns and sees Gunnar, her pleasant face drops and she lowers her voice. “What do you want?” Rolling her eyes, and with a huff, Pela walks off.

“By Jara’s wrath!” Gunnar says, jogging over to Pela. He grabs her wrist. Pela turns, a flash of anger rippling over her face, but Gunnar notices something else; her eyes brighten like a fire is dancing in them, radiating heat. Letting go, he steps back. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like me, and I’m not a fan of you either, but I have a message for Lone. The Wilted Flower Gang is involved with this job. He will know what I’m talking about. Could you pass on the information?”

“You are right, Gunnar, I don’t like you, but Lone is a friend, so I will pass on the message.”

Gunnar watches her walk away, wondering if a girl such as her will remember.

🔹️ 🔹️ 🔹️

Pela strides back to the bar and growls at no-one in particular. Bertude cocks her head. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“That bloody Gunnar. He is so racist to my people, but he wants me to do him a favour. It is hard enough to be a half-breed, we deal with that most days, but he is known to me.”

Patting her arm, Bertude indicates her understanding. “We might be of the same race, but he is an exile like me. I don’t understand why he hates Elves and their bloodline but don’t worry about him—he is more bark than bite. Are you going to do what he asked?”

Pela raises her eyebrows at Bertude. “Of course I will. This is Lone we’re talking about, and he is stupid.” This gets a laugh out of Bertude, and Pela joins her. “Not that he is really dumb. He does some stupid things, but to his credit, he survives what would kill others.”

“And he can’t handle his drink either,” Bertude adds, with a belly laugh. “You still have another hour left of your shift, but this seems to be important, and he is a good customer. Finish up now and go meet him.”

Taking off her apron, Pela turns to Bertude. “I’ll make up the time tomorrow.”

Bertude waves her off. “Fine, fine. Just save that idiot.”

Laughing as she picks up her pack, Pela waves goodbye and makes for the door. Heading down Coin Street over to Affluent Road, she proceeds around to the back of the Mature Tulip, like last time she was here; she recalls the patrons were quite handsy. The large bouncer, Dave, guards the back door.

Calling out to him, Pela walks over. “Hi, Dave. Lone still in there?”

“Yeah, he’s dancing with Kilroy at the moment.”

Dave starts to laugh, and Pela joins him. “I thought he was sword training.”

“He is, but Kil said—well, yelled—something about how appalling Solo’s footwork is. I guess that’s why they’re dancing. Still funny to watch, though.”

He opens the door, and Pela walks into the humid Bath House, keeping to the edges so few people will notice her. She slips out the back and sees Kilroy with sword, shield and a knife in the shield hand, showing Lone his fighting style.

Not wanting to interrupt the lesson, Pela sits down on one of the ringside benches. Kilroy stands in front of Lone. Turning over his shield, he says, “This is a targe. Underneath, you grab and hold your knife in your shield arm and then it is simple: charge, push up, then slash with the knife tip and finish off with an overhand chop by your broadsword.”

“That does not sound too different from my army training,” Lone observes, picking up the heavily studded targe. “Why use this?”

“You used to live in the Anvil and Musket inn, did you not? Do you know what a musket is?”

“Yeah, just some strange club.”

“It is not that, son.”

Lone hates when Kilroy calls him ‘son’. He isn’t his father, and it makes him feel like a child.

“It is a ranged weapon from the States of Ursul,” Kilroy continues. “Earl Sweargin created these weapons to stave off the hostile people of the Disputed Lands. Even though the population was small, this mighty weapon could kill a hostile with one shot.”

“Remind me not to piss off Bruce the barkeep again.” Lone shivers at his stupidity.

“Rightly so. It fires a lead ball at neck-breaking speeds. The penetration of this projectile is amazing. With the shield, you duck and angle it. Like the leather covering and the brass studs, two layers of wood with the grain sitting opposite of each other will increase the chance of a deflection of projectile or even a legendary lead ball.”

Lone notices Pela sitting on the sidelines. “This is something I’ll have to get used to. Is the lesson over?”

“For today, but when you get home, I want you to repeat the footwork you have learned.” Clasping Lone on the shoulder, Kilroy gives one of his rare smiles. “You’ve done decent work. Just remember the difference between battlefield fighting and duelling. See you tomorrow.”

Feeling proud, Lone bows to Kilroy. “Tomorrow,” he says, and with that, he walks over to Pela. “Are you early or have I lost my sense of time again?”

Pela smiles and the world brightens. “No, silly, I am early.” She drops her voice, adding a gritty edge. “Gunnar came to the Hall and wanted me to pass on the message that the Wilted Flower Gang has something to do with the job. What is this job, Lone?”

“Way noticed that the spoons at the Count’s Ball were not pure. A merchant wanted to gain prestige with the nobles by hiring us to find the culprit.”

Kilroy joins them, bowing slighting to Pela. “What is this about the Wilted Flower?”

Pela giggles a little at Kilroy’s gesture. “To be honest, I have no idea. Just something Gunnar wants Lone to know.”

Kilroy turns to Lone. “You need to be careful. Since the fall of the Dock Boys, the Wilted Flowers have been flexing their muscles to gain territory.”

Lone nods his head. “That could be the reason for the cutlery heists—they need money. We are heading to Cyric’s, but I was wondering if you could come along, Kilroy?”

Kilroy considers the request. “Give me a few minutes to stretch and change, and I will be with you.”

“Fantastic.” Lone watches Kilroy walk to the middle of the floor and start to stretch. “How was work this morn, Pela? Any interesting Chapters come in?”

Always a fanboy thinks Pela. “We had the Helpers come in, and Gnomes’ Luck grabbed a new engineering job, but beyond that just some random Adventurers wanting to drink on the cheap. Also, I’ve been feeling a little weird this morn too.”

Lone looks disappointed. “I know the Helpers, but Gnomes’ Luck? Who are they?”

Just like his fanboy self to ignore the whole ‘feeling weird’ comment, Pela thinks. “A new group from the Northern Electorate. Surprising that they are not all gnomes, but by the look of them they are all Engineers.”

“You have been feeling weird? What is wrong?” Lone’s eye shine with sympathy.

Pela looks surprised. Never underestimate Lone’s ability to notice details, she tells herself. “It is nothing, just dizzy and sometimes the room becomes overly bright.”

“Are you sure you will be alright coming along with us?”

“I’ll be fine, and you can be a bit of a blatant dick when you get angry.”

Raising one eyebrow, Lone shakes his head. “Yes, I certainly can. Did you see my new sword style?”

“Yeah, looks interesting.”

Lone senses that Pela is not interested. “So much to learn but I will get there.”

“That is good to know. So, what is my role at the Pharmacist’s?” Pela asks.

“I guess to look pretty.” At that, Pela backhands Lone. “Ow, what was that for? You are a pretty woman and men notice.”

“I’m not your trophy, but I understand that a nice face can make people more at ease.”

You like other people thinking you are pretty but not me, Lone ponders. A bit of a backhanded insult coming from you, Pela.

He sees Kilroy finish off his stretching and leave the courtyard, so he continues with his debrief. “We, the Rejects, need to find out information on a new alloy. Hopefully, Cyric knows something.”

“Okay, so I charm him if needed?”

“Yes. I have no idea how much of a dick he is, but by Jara’s Wrath, the rest of the Rejects do not like him.”

Pela’s face screws up a little. Lone just loves that face. “Why is that?” she asks.

“Something to do with Way’s past, but Way won’t tell me anything. However, the scars on his body are supposed to have been caused by Cyric.”

“Way is scarred? That is news to me.”

“Yeah, it is not a pretty sight. Never talk to him about it when he is sober. Not a pleasant experience.”

“I’ll make sure I don’t, then.”

With that they both sit in silence, waiting for Kilroy. Pela notices that nearly all the staff here are younger men, with very few women. Is this a gay sauna? Not from its reputation. Looking at Lone, she imagines he is entirely oblivious to any such observations.

Indeed, at that moment Lone is thinking to himself, should I call over one of these boys for an ale? Nah, it would piss off Pela.