Chapter 8 : Uean

"At the end of the kingdom wars, Entalar Armodens ensured peace and security for both the people and the armies. However, not everyone was an official soldier, and the kingdom's coffers couldn't cover everyone."

Uean de Gebo, a fairly common name, a name that would never be celebrated, an orphan's name. That's how Uean saw himself. A simple mercenary who had spent his life on battlefields that no longer existed. A mercenary who wasn't a province-appointed soldier or a militiaman in Etelor's eyes. In these times of peace, he could no longer be a mercenary. Hence, he had become a mere hired hand, unable to be too discerning about the tasks assigned to him. Especially when they seemed lucrative. However, a mysterious old man had contacted him the previous day. Despite his appearance, the old man seemed to know exactly what he was doing, unlike Uean, who had once again signed a contract without fully understanding its terms. Not that the mercenary wasn't cautious, but he knew how to extricate himself if things went awry. His grim knowledge had given him experience in many unsavory domains, and those from the battlefields rarely met their end in any way other than the throes of war, even the perfect unknowns.

As was his usual habit, he concealed his face within his long cloak, dyed a green so dark it could be mistaken for a cloud of coal. The cloak allowed him to hide the long, curved knives that served as his tools. According to his client's instructions, he was to head to the port. Although the advance payment he had just received would have allowed him to disappear, he felt compelled to listen to the merchant. Yönum Tavern, a haunt of former pirates, was not a place he visited lightly. The request that would be made of him was unlikely to be an act of pure generosity; at least, that's what he believed.

He opened the door delicately, avoiding any unnecessary noise, angling his face so that it remained partially obscured by the faint candlelight scattered throughout the establishment. It took Uean only a few seconds to spot the alleged merchant. The man claimed he wanted to transport illegal cargo to Etelor, cargo that nobles would pay handsomely for. But Uean knew the merchant wasn't telling the whole truth. Why detour to the ruins of Etelm Nar? Was the cargo truly here, or were Etelor's roads too heavily traveled? These questions, though he shouldn't have entertained them, plagued him nonetheless.

The old man was accompanied by a young man, very young, too young, and yet, he carried himself with the air of a merchant as well. The same slight smile, eyes sharp. Their movements were both fluid and precise, emphasizing each statement like sweet, enchanting words. Neither man bore distinctive signs of any specific region; rather, they seemed to embody a blend of them all. Likely the result of traversing commercial routes. No one else appeared to be accompanying them.

Still dissatisfied with the information he had gleaned, Uean decided to wait and observe. At the bar, he ordered a simple pint of malane. The tavern's proud proprietor, however, served him a Knam beer with a mocking smile. Uean returned the smile, though his expression remained coolly controlled. In truth, he did appreciate the bitter, acrid drink, and he knew that this place wouldn't draw attention anyway. He tried not to stare at his two associates while keeping an eye out for anyone showing undue interest in them.

Soon enough, he noticed two men who seemed acquainted. One was likely a regular at the tavern, judging by his northern attire. The other, a sailor, a simple Yomanran sailor. There was no aggression in their gazes; instead, they seemed hesitant to approach. Would they work together? Why such a diverse mix of people? Was it to prevent easy understanding? Uean wrestled with these insoluble thoughts. It had already cost him in previous missions, but above all, his inability to act instinctively had saved his life countless times. That's why he always preferred to take his time.

Now more confident, he took the initiative with the two associates, lifting his freshly served pint and slowly approaching the unusual duo. With a gesture, he indicated one of the chairs near the old man, who merely nodded in approval. Uean introduced himself with dignity, murmuring his words so that only his audience could hear. He was interrupted midway when the other two associates, seizing the opportunity, closed the distance as well.