Chapter 46 The Fallen Saintess (42)
(Outer Regions- City of Galrannor)
(The Slums- Dirty Fish's Tavern)
"Ahh you son of a bitch! Pour me another drink! Another! Another!"
"Bastard was about the size of a mountain… it killed half of my team…"
"Darling… why don't you bring that fat ass over here... I got two copper coins…"
"I heard rumors… there's a dragon still alive! My friend's cousin who knows a guy swears it on his life!"
Laughter and conversation filled the tavern as waitresses moved between the tables to serve food and drinks.
An elegant older man stood behind the counter and carefully polished the glasses until they sparkled.
Dirty Fish's Tavern was a popular meeting place among the monster hunters, adventurers and those seeking information.
It was located near the edge of the slums and was only a short walk away from the central plaza marketplace.
Adventurers would usually sell their goods to the merchants in the marketplace then come to the tavern to drink and celebrate.
In the corner of the tavern was a long table that could seat around fourteen people.
A group wearing heavy brown cloaks sat down on the chairs and quietly observed the atmosphere in the tavern.
Unlike the rest of the bar, there was little conversation flowing in the corner since members of the group were reluctant to begin talking.
"Would you like anything else sirs?" a pretty waitress with a cute smile winked flirtishly as she set down a plate of beef pies on the table.
"No that will be all for now," a hoarse voice responded.
The waitress was not offended by his blunt reply and politely nodded before walking off with a spring in her steps.
"By the gods… the journey here was terrible…" one of the cloaked men finally spoke.
"Be grateful… the last time I was sent here… it took almost a year to return to the capitol," the leader replied.
The leader pulled back the top of his cloak to reveal a grizzled old face with several pocket marks along his cheeks.
The other members of the group took his actions as a cue, and they all pulled back the hood of their cloaks.
Each person in the group wore simple travelling clothes with the exception of the man sitting in the center.
He wore a light chain mail vest and a set of greenish-black armour that glowed eerily under the dim lighting in the tavern.
The leader respectfully poured him a drink and the man glanced at it, but he made no effort to pick it up.
It was an extremely disrespectful attitude, but the leader did not even dare to be upset with the warrior sitting next to him.
Sir Gideon Raron was a tier two knight who managed to reach that level without the holy aura that paladins possessed.
He simply relied on mana alone to cross the barrier and become one of the strong individuals on the continent.
Duke Carter had paid a tremendous price to hire his services and Gideon's importance to the hunting expedition could not be understated.
The knight absentmindedly touched his longsword and arrogantly sneered at the people in the tavern laughing and gossiping.
The pride of a knight made him disdainful to be in the presence of such low birth commoners and trash.
Night soon fell and the tavern gradually emptied.
The tough looking security guards outside the building kicked out the rowdier patrons who did not wish to leave.
Soon the only group left in the tavern was the mysterious party in the far corner of the building who now appeared to be waiting for someone.
The elegant gentleman polishing the glasses glanced at them once or twice but did not attempt to walk over.
The members of the group with the exception of the knight had already downed quite a few glasses of ale and their tongues were considerably looser.
"So… the plan for now is to restock up on supplies and then leave the city in about four days' time," the leader explained.
"The Scarlet Rose merchant guild will be aiding us in the transportation of the goods back to the capitol."
"Duke Carter will reward special bonuses for extra slaves so make sure to grab as many as you can."
"Can we play with them first?" one of the men asked with a vicious smile on his face.
"No… I want to as well… but that would lower their value," the leader replied with a disappointed expression.
Suddenly the doors to the tavern swung open and three men walked into the building.
The youth in the middle was only in his early twenties with a crop of dirty black hair and eyes that nervously flickered back and forth.
He was flanked by two powerful warriors each wearing heavy armour with massive broadswords attached to their hips.
"Ahh… are… you… Duke… Duke Carter's hunters?" the youth stuttered as he spoke.
His hands trembled slightly, and he seemed terrified of the men sitting down at the table.
The two warriors at his side did not change their facial expressions as their young master continued to act.
"Aye lad. We are the hunters," the leader gruffly replied. He grabbed the glass in front of him and threw back his head as he drank another shot.
"And now… who the hell are you?"
"I'm… I'm… the information expert… I… err… I…" the youth shivered as he felt the knight sitting down at the table stare at him.
"I… I… have… knowledge about… the… the…"
The youth tried to speak but was interrupted by a voice of complaint coming from a man sitting down at the end of the table.
"Why was the meeting set up in a tavern?" one of the men questioned sternly.
"The last time that we were here… I recall having this conversation with your guild master in his private building."
"About… about that… the guild master… is dead…" the youth dropped down his head and no one could see the brief smile that flashed across his face.
"He… he… was murdered! Killed by the angel of death!"
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