Steamforged Sorcery - Chapter 8 (Patreon)

“I see,” the merchant said. She gave him a small smile. “Well, I expect to see you back soon enough. You’re not allowed to die, you hear me?”

“Yes, mom,” Angel said, laughing. He pulled a Vei from his bag, hiding it within his palm. He reached out to shake her hand. She accepted, her eyebrows raising as she felt the coin press against her skin.

Angel held a finger to his lips and winked. Then he pulled away and slipped back into the crowd before she could say anything. He finished off the last of his meal as he walked, licking the tips of his fingers before crumpling the napkin and tossing it into a small bin at the side of the road.

He wiped the last of the grease off on his pants and made his way towards his original destination – The Hunter’s Rest. The top of the huge building acted like a beacon as Angel weaved past people and merchants.

It was four stories high and towered over the surrounding buildings. Pipes wove in and out along its wall, belching out steam. The smell of liquor emanating from it was strong enough to burn Angel’s nostrils.

He pulled out his thick scarf and wrapped it around himself, concealing the lower half of his face before pushing past the small crowd at the building’s door and stepping inside the large room.

Dozens of tables had been arranged in neat rows wherever they could fit. A huge bar covered the entire back wall, and several bartenders in matching black uniforms moved to and fro from their patrons. Many of the tables were occupied by hardy looking men and women covered in weaponry.

Beside the bar was a massive board covered with papers that had pinned to it with daggers. Angel walked up to the seat in the bar closest to the board and pulled the metal stool out. He sat down and one arm one the thick divider to wait.

It didn’t take long for a bartender to show up before him. The man was clean shaven, with a pointed moustache and a thin face.

“What can I get for you today?”

“Water, please,” Angel said. “And I’d like to hire a Hunter.”

The bartender reached under the divider and pulled out a metal cup. He pulled a hose up and filled the cup with water, then set it on the table before Angel.

“The board is behind you. You’re free to put up a request.”

“I need something a little more discreet,” Angel said. He didn’t bother lowering his tone – it would have made him look more suspicious, and it was already so loud in the building that he doubted anyone could hear him anyways.

“Ah,” the bartender said. “I see. That would be different. Do you have the coin?”

Angel nodded. “I’ve got enough.”

“What’s the job?”

“I need an escort to Molten Cliffs.”

The bartender’s eyebrows rose. “Ah. That… thins the pool of Hunters significantly. Not many are willing to cross the Barren on foot, and for good reason. Are you sure you’ve got the coin?”

“Starting offer is five Vei,” Angel said. “And I’d consider counteroffers.”

The other man did a remarkable job of not looking surprised. His features only changed for a moment before he got them back under control.

“You might be able to get some bites for that,” the bartender allowed. “How soon do you need a Hunter?”

“Tomorrow.”

“…I see. I’ll put out the word that someone is seeking a Hunter for a dangerous trip, then. Would you like to accompany me to a private room?”

“That might be best,” Angel said.

The bartender opened a small barrier blocking entrance to the backside of the counter. Angel took his cup of water and stepped in. He followed the other man into a small door and down a small, dimly lit hallway until they reached a circular shaft with chains running down it. A small circular metal disk sat on the ground. Small boxes covered where the chains connected with it. A small red lever sat on the wall beside it.

“Please step onto the elevator,” the bartender said. “It will bring you to a private room. If there are any Hunters willing to take the offer, they will join you shortly.”

Angel stepped onto the platform. The bartender pulled the lever and the platform jerked upwards. Chains clinked as it slowly lifted him past the first floor and up into the building. It shuddered and swung slightly, banging up against the walls of the shaft. The elevator didn’t move very fast, which Angel was thankful for. He managed to avoid spilling most of his water, which he considered a success.

After almost a minute, it ground to a halt. A puff of lukewarm steam that smelled of mildew hit Angel in the face as a door hissed open before him. He grimaced and stepped off the elevator, looking around the room he’d been deposited it. There was a small metal desk and two stools beside it. The room had no windows or other decoration.

Angel sat down in one of the chairs. He raised the scarf just enough to take a long drink from his cup. Then he set the cup down on the table and rocked back in his chair. With nothing else to do, he stared at the hallway and let the seconds tick by.

The seconds turned to minutes, and those turned to hours. Angel’s fingers drummed impatiently on his knees. He longed to take the pendant out and start examining it again, but he restrained themselves. It wouldn’t surprise him if the Hunter’s Rest had some way to observe him remotely.

A rattle broke the silence. Angel nearly fell back on his chair but managed to catch and right himself with the desk as he heard the elevator start up. He brushed his hair with his hands and readjusted his scarf, trying to look as professional as possible.