Chapter Two- The Kenz' & The Crowe

The tavern buzzed with low laughter and conversation. The scent of food and ale hung thick in the air. I was sitting at my usual corner table. It was the one I shared with Hex whenever we ate or drank together. Although, it felt a little different tonight—not because of the noise or the food but because of the unusual company.

Kenzie sat across from me with her legs stretched out beneath the table, one boot hooked lazily against the leg of the bench. She stirred her stew absentmindedly, pushing chunks of meat around with her spoon like she was debating whether the effort of eating was even worth it.

It wasn't often she joined me for meals—in fact, this was maybe the third time since we started sharing a room, and the last few times had been more out of convenience than intention. Kenzie wasn't one for lingering—she slipped in and out of places like a true background character that no one takes notice of. She always seemed to busy herself.

Still, she was here now. And considering how rare that was, I figured I might as well try to learn something about her.

"So" I started casually "I've heard you're something of a merchant, but what exactly is it that you do if I may ask?"

Kenzie didn't even look up as she responded. "I steal candy from kids then sell it back to them at double the price."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Right. Should've expected that."

She gave a soft huff of amusement, then finally met my eyes. "I trade. Buy low, sell high, all that. Mostly legal stuff. Whatever makes a profit and isn't completely unethical."

"Fair enough. I'm not overly judgmental on how people pay the bills" I said, poking at the food in front of me.

She finally took a bite of her stew chewing slowly before adding, "I work for myself if I can help it. I try not to poke my nose into things that attract too much attention, and I don't get tied down."

"Being your own boss has its perks" I mused.

Kenzie shrugged, shifting her weight slightly. "It does. Especially when you're good at it."

There was no real arrogance in her tone—just a quiet confidence, the kind that came from someone who knew exactly who they were and what they were doing.

I let the words settle between us, nudging my fork through my own meal. "What's your magical trick for turning a profit?"

Kenzie tilted her head slightly, as if considering whether the question was worth answering. "Don't get scammed, and exploit gaps in the market." She tapped her spoon against the rim of her bowl. "It's not magic, it's just common sense really."

"Sounds simple enough."

"Only if you know what you're doing. Most people don't." She leaned back against her seat, stretching out her legs before speaking up again. "Heard you've been working at the guild and poking around town in your free time."

"Yeah" I admitted. "Guild work's fine, just waiting for my badge and a job that won't get me killed. As for exploring the town—" I let out a sigh while rubbing the back of my neck. "I Tried exploring the market the other day"

Kenzie raised an eyebrow, watching me with something close to amusement.

"Honestly, I've never been good at market stuff. I tried poking around earlier and barely understood half of what I saw. Feels like I'm gonna get robbed blind every time I even glance at a vendor."

For the first time all evening, Kenzie actually looked halfway interested in something. She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. There was something unreadable in her expression before her lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smirk—more like a slow shift of realization.

"Tell you what," she said. "Buy my drinks tonight, and you can tag along tomorrow. I'm heading to the market anyway. If you keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself, I'll show you a few basics. Real broad strokes stuff. Just enough to keep you from embarrassing yourself."

I blinked. "You serious?"

Kenzie shrugged. "It's a decent deal. I drink for free, and you get to tag along with someone who could show you a thing or two"

I watched her for a beat, trying to gauge her angle. But her face gave nothing away. She likely wasn't doing this out of kindness—that much was obvious. But maybe she didn't mind the idea of company… or maybe she just liked getting something out of it."

"Alright," I said finally. "Deal."

She leaned back in her seat, folding her arms behind her head like she didn't have a care in the world. "Good. I hate watching amateurs fumble through the market. It's painful."

I exhaled through my nose, shaking my head but smirking all the same. "Nah, that's not it. You're just in this for free drinks"

Her expression never betrayed her but I could tell she was smiling on the inside. "Naturally"

I waved over to Hex and signaled I wanted to order some drinks.

"Try not to get plastered, I'll be expecting you to be coherent for tomorrow my dear teacher"

...

The market moved like a living thing. It was always breathing in coin and exhaling potential opportunities. People weaved between store fronts and wooden stalls, some were calling out goods and their prices, others murmuring quieter deals. Even though it was fairly early in the day, the place was already quite busy.

This wasn't a chaotic mess of scamming or deceit like I had ignorantly assumed—it was just a system that I didn't fully understand. That was why I was here—trailing behind Kenzie, who despite her usual reluctance to be social in general, hadn't turned down the opportunity to let me accompany her.

"Alright" she sighed, stretching her arms over her head before lazily resting them behind her neck. "First thing you gotta know? The market here shifts constantly. No one's really trying to scam you at least for the most part—they're just playing their angle. This is no heavily regulated market like you would see in other countries, so people can be a bit more- creative, let's say when it comes to earning a few extra coins. You may call it whatever you want but at the end of the day, It's just business. Stall vendors are more tricky but offer a larger variety of goods, while actual stores are usually more stable and trustworthy but can lack exotic goods, so keep that in mind if you're in the market for something."

Kenzie turned to me, pulling a coin from her pouch and flipping it idly between her fingers.

"Time for some basics. Let's talk about currency."

The copper coin caught the light before disappearing back into her palm. "Most countries run on four main types of coins. Some coinage will be new, some old, but that's not important right now"

She tossed the copper piece in the air, caught it, and slid it back into her pouch. "Copper's the cheap stuff. One hundred copper can equal one silver. Most day-to-day transactions—food, drinks, small trinkets—are done with these."

Then she produced a gleaming silver coin, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. "Silver's what most workers get paid in. Depending on the work, in these parts the pay can be roughly between six to fifteen silver a week. One hundred silver equals one gold. Silver is the most stable coin in the region so If you've got silver, you're doing fine. But If you've got gold to spend..." She smirked. "People start treating you differently."

She dug deeper into her pouch and pulled out a gold coin, flipping it onto her palm. "Gold's for more serious purchases. A single gold coin could cover a few months rent in a pretty damn good inn and then some, or get you a full set of adventuring gear including a weapon and supplies. Two hundred and fifty gold equals one platinum coin. And platinum?" She scoffed. "That's nobles and politicians' money. You won't see it changing hands in a place like this."

I nodded, absorbing the information. "So copper's daily use, silver's middle ground, gold's serious business, and platinum's practically mythical"

"Exactly," Kenzie confirmed. "And while the exchange rate between coinage will fluctuate in worth fairly often, keeping to the rule of one hundred of x makes one of y is a good way to measure the intended value of your money"

She then led me through the winding rows of stalls. The market was alive, shifting and breathing around us, and Kenzie moved through it as if she understood its every pulse.

"Next, let's look at the value of products and their pricing"

She stopped for a moment then looked at me.

"Let's use the average price for fresh bread as a baseline" She gestured subtly toward a baker stacking neat loaves onto a wooden rack. "For a fresh loaf you can usually expect to pay fifteen coppers. Ten or so if it's a day or two old. Always take note of products at the back of a trader's stock. For instance with the bread- The ones near the back—those will go stale first, so they'll cut you a better deal if you ask. It's great for when you're low on funds and need something more affordable but can accept the lower quality"

As if on cue, the older baker who wore a thick apron handed a woman two loaves, muttering something before knocking a few coppers off the price. Kenzie didn't slow down. She was already pointing at another stall.

"See that blacksmith's table?"

I followed her gaze. The vendor had a solid setup, his wares neatly arranged—rows of tools, knives, even a few swords, all glinting in the sunlight. He sat behind his display with his arms crossed, watching potential customers like a hawk.

"An old iron knife will run you a couple of silver," Kenzie murmured, tapping the pouch at her belt. "But a brand new, steel-forged one?" She tilted her head slightly. "Fifteen silvers—minimum. And that's if you're good at negotiating."

A scrawny soot-streaked teenager was already deep in thought as he inspected a knife he had picked up from the table. The older blacksmith kept a passive expression, only speaking up when necessary. I noticed the way he rarely broke eye contact, the way his hand stayed near his pouch as if calculating every coin being earned and spent in his head.

Kenzie's lips quirked slightly. "Watch how he does business. He's not really convincing them. He's waiting for them to convince themselves."

And sure enough, after a minute of back-and-forth the young buyer finally sighed, begrudgingly handing over a handful of silver.

The blacksmith didn't press his luck. He took the coins, gave a small nod of thanks, and turned to his next customer.

Kenzie gave a knowing look. "That's how you get easy money and repeat business. Never question a buyer or come off overly eager. Sometimes a buyer will simply convince themselves without your input."

She weaved between a pair of shoppers, barely breaking stride as she flicked her chin toward another vendor.

"Notice how many vendors put the pricier stuff on display at the front?"

Her voice was casual, but there was an edge of amusement in it—like she was letting me in on a well-known trick of the trade.

"That's for impulse buyers or people who don't know better. They see something shiny, something that looks fancy or valuable, and they snatch it up without asking many questions. Just because something looks good doesn't mean it's of good quality or utility"

Kenzie made a barely perceptible nod toward a well dressed vendor standing behind a neat display of wares, a cart stacked with crates behind him. His fingers tapping absently against the spine of a ledger as he flipped through its pages. He wasn't calling out for customers. He wasn't even paying attention to the foot traffic passing by his stall.

"That's obviously a supplier," she muttered. "If you ever need something in bulk, to order something foreign, or are in need of certain services- someone like that could likely be of help"

She flicked a coin between her fingers absently as she spoke, watching the vendor out of the corner of her eye. "They're the ones with reserves. Probably has a warehouse somewhere, connections to bigger traders and trade routes."

The level of knowledge Kenzie rattled off to me was crazy, so much of it was simple deductions and common sense to her. But to a person who's world does not revolve around being a businessman? It may as well be arithmetic. And despite her half-bored tone, I could tell she was actually really enjoying all of this. She was passionate in her own way, I'll give her that.

Eventually she slowed her pace, her hands slipping into the pouches at her belt. Her usual easy going demeanor sharpened slightly. Kenzie led me down a quieter path, weaving between narrow streets and old warehouses until they reached a small courtyard tucked away from the main thoroughfare. Unlike the loud colorful stalls of the main market, this place was dimly lit, with low conversation and practical-looking goods on display.

"This is the trade district's shadow" Kenzie murmured. "Most people know it's here. But no one shuts it down because it keeps things moving. The territory is one of the only places on the continent where markets like this one can exist so openly, so people from all over come to do business"

She explained that the goods were different here. Not necessarily illegal, but not exactly common or legal either. Unregulated potions, rare metals, enchanted trinkets, things that would either never show up or be regulated to some degree in the public market.

The deeper we walked into the market's quieter sections, the more the usual stalls of trinkets and common goods faded into something else. Here, no one called out for customers. No signs advertised wares. If you didn't know what you were looking for, you weren't meant to be here. Kenzie of course, knew exactly where she was going.

Eventually, she stopped at a small setup wedged between two stacks of shipping crates. The vendor—a middle-aged man with a thick-lidded gaze and the air of someone who had seen too many long nights—sat behind a rough-cut wooden counter. A well-worn set of scales rested beside him, alongside ledgers stacked with neat but weathered pages, their ink fading with age. A locked iron box sat at his feet.

The moment he noticed Kenzie, he let out a short exhale through his nose, setting down the quill he had been using to scrawl figures into his ledger. His expression was unreadable, but his movements spoke of familiarity.

"Didn't think I'd see you back so soon" he muttered, his fingers tapping idly against the wooden surface.

Kenzie leaned a forearm on the counter, unimpressed. "You should know by now, Daim—I always come back sooner than you think."

Daim's lips twitched in what might've been amusement before he nodded toward a small bundle wrapped tightly in cloth beside him. "Your order's ready. No delays this time."

Kenzie didn't bother responding to that. Instead, she reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a small coin purse, dropping it onto the counter with an easy flick of her wrist. Daim picked it up, rolling the weight of it in his palm before cracking it open just enough to glance at the contents.

"Old silver" he noted, his tone carefully neutral.

Kenzie cocked her head slightly. "That's what we agreed on. Better value after all."

He let out a quiet grunt, cinching the pouch closed. "True enough" Without another word, he pushed the bundled package toward her.

Kenzie pulled it toward herself and undid just enough of the cloth wrapping to take a look inside. Several vials nestled tightly against each other, their deep- multicolored liquid catching the dim lantern light. Satisfied, she rewrapped it and slid it smoothly into one of her belt pouches.

Daim cleared his throat. "Price will be going up next time."

Kenzie's brow arched slightly. "I doubt that."

Daim spread his hands. "I'm serious. Stock's getting tighter for all imported goods, let alone the more interesting kind of goods. you're lucky you locked this in before the latest shipments got snagged. Lots of raids on caravans these days—I'm sure you're aware."

Kenzie hummed, tilting her head in consideration. "That's a shame." She glanced at him with a knowing smirk. "But if you're raising your prices, I assume you'll be paying your suppliers more right?"

Daim's jaw tensed slightly, a flicker of something sharp passing through his tired expression. A beat of silence passed before his expression changed to something more serious. "This is a specialty product you know… but I'll see what I can do."

Kenzie nodded, satisfied. "I'm sure you will. Wouldn't want to lose a regular now would you?"

With that she turned on her heel, her business concluded.

I followed, glancing back at Daim's stall one last time before catching up to her. "So dubious liquids huh?" I asked, unable to help myself.

For a moment she didn't respond, just adjusted her belt.

"Unregulated aphrodisiacs" There was a flicker of mild disgust in her tone as she said it.

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Yeah." She grimaced. "Not my usual thing, but relatively recently some wealthy asshole is willing to pay for a regular supply of it under the table, so I don't ask questions."

I nodded, watching her carefully. Kenzie didn't seem like the sentimental type, and she definitely didn't have many moral hang-ups about what she sold. Business was business, and she was pragmatic enough to put coin over personal preference for the most part. Sometimes you have to do some, let's say- morally taxing things to pay the bills and put food on the table.

I glanced back at Daim's stall one last time. "Seems like you've got a decent reputation here though."

Kenzie rolled her eyes. "Reputation's just another tool. You use it right, people know not to waste your time"

After a few more brief visits to a number of stalls, Kenzie had tucked away her profits seemingly done with business for the day, and I figured that meant we'd be heading straight back to the tavern.

Instead she veered off down a quieter path, saying nothing as she led me through a stretch of narrow alleyways and side streets. Eventually, we emerged onto a small riverside clearing where a few vendors had set up makeshift stalls, far removed from the usual hustle. Unlike the main market, this place had a slower rhythm. People weren't shouting over each other, and there was no frantic haggling—just the occasional murmur of conversation, the clink of coins exchanging hands, and the steady trickle of the river in the background.

Kenzie walked up to a stall selling skewered meat, the vendor a wiry old man with tanned skin and tired eyes. She handed over a handful of coppers, and without a word, he passed her two sticks, the charred scent of spiced pork filling the air. Seemed to me this was a regular routine for her. Without looking at me, she shoved one of the skewers in my direction.

"Here" she said simply.

I took it, half surprised. "Didn't take you for the generous type."

She gave me a dry look. "You bought my drinks last night. Call it breaking even."

We found a spot near the edge of the water, sitting on the remnants of an old stone wall that overlooked the river. The light glistened off the surface, shifting in ripples against the fading afternoon glow. The meat was fresh, savory with just the right amount of spice. For a while, we ate in silence.

The first bite of the skewer was a pleasant surprise—smoky, well-seasoned, with just enough char to give it a satisfying bite. The kind of simple, no-nonsense meal you got from someone who knew how to cook but didn't care about appearances. The quiet around us felt strangely comfortable—not exactly relaxed, but not tense either.

Kenzie wasn't the type to fill the air with unnecessary chatter, and I didn't exactly want to push her. But as I sat there, thinking back on everything she'd told me at the market, a question itched at the back of my mind.

"Back at the market... you said something about working alone. That you don't want to get tied down." I subtly watched her for a reaction but she just took another bite, Chewing slowly. "That just business, or is that how you are with everything?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose—something between a sigh and a dry laugh. "That's a little personal, don't you think?"

I shrugged. "You don't have to answer"

For a moment, I thought she wouldn't. But then she shifted, resting her elbows on her knees as she looked out over the water. "People get in the way," she said coldly. "They slow you down, they make things complicated. When you're alone, you don't owe anyone anything. No one expects anything from you. There's no one to disappoint you, or leave you behind."

There was something in her tone. It was matter-of-fact, but not entirely cold. I had the suspicion she didn't fully believe in what she said, as if there was more to it. While I didn't know much about her, I felt like I could relate just a little. I waited to see if she'd elaborate, but she didn't. Kenzie had a way of shutting down a conversation without making it too obvious, steering things just enough to make people stop prying. Unfortunately for her, I'm hard to shut up.

"You're good at what you do. Did you ever think about expanding? I don't know—hiring a few people, making a bigger operation, your own shop?"

She let out a short, quiet laugh. "And start managing idiots? No thanks." She tilted her head toward me, one brow raised. "Besides, I'm not much of a people person."

"Yeah, I got that impression."

That got me a real smile, even if it was brief.

We sat there a while longer, the wind picking up slightly, rustling through the sparse trees along the riverbank. Despite her usual distant nature, there was something oddly comfortable about sitting there with her. She hadn't bolted yet which for Kenzie, probably meant something. I got the impression she wanted the distraction, it wasn't often we interacted let alone did anything together, but I was not going to pry any further. She may be sarcastic, distant, and frigid sometimes, but she seemed like a genuine enough person.

I leaned back on my hands and glanced at her. "Thanks for today. I think I actually learned a thing or two. Got the feel for things. Plus, I got to see you in action."

Kenzie nodded, finishing off the last of her skewer. She didn't say anything, but I could tell she wasn't used to being thanked. Let alone having a normal conversation that wasn't just about business. She seemed to think about it for a second, then shrugged.

"Don't get used to it."

I grinned. "Oh, absolutely. Wouldn't dream of it."

Then because I simply couldn't resist, I added "And now I know you sell rich guys aphrodisiacs. Very classy, Kenz."

She paused mid-motion, slowly turning to glare at me. We stared at each other for a long moment. Then at the same time, we both cracked. Laughter spilled out, unforced and real. Kenzie rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she wiped a hand down her face.

"Shut the hell up, idiot. You better never bring it up to anyone"

I nodded and then smirked, tossing the skewer stick aside. "Just saying. It's a niche market."

She grumbled something under her breath but didn't actually deny it. I caught the faintest trace of amusement before she shook her head, flicking a small pebble in my direction.

"Alright, that's it. We're leaving before you say anything else."

I chuckled, standing as she did. As we made our way out of the market, I found myself watching her more closely. Kenzie didn't trust easily. Hell, she barely let people in at all from my brief time knowing her. But she'd offered me to join her this morning. Let me see what she did, how she operated. Showed me a thing or two about how things work around here. She may have dressed this whole thing up as a transaction but I got the distinct impression this wasn't just about her getting free drinks out of me. Even though she would most likely never admit it- she seems incredibly lonely. Maybe this was a one off event, maybe we would go straight back to barely interacting with each other after this, and I was okay with that. But maybe all we needed was to break the ice between one another? Who knows. I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to people in general.

Whatever the case- I'm just glad today happened.

Kenzie and I parted ways not long after, she was heading back to the tavern to laze around in bed while I still had a few things to do today. As the morning was giving way to the early afternoon, the temperature began to warm up quite a bit. Despite the heat, I enjoyed walking through town. There was always something to see, something new to observe. It had been a few days since I finalized my application at the guild, and I was hoping my identification badge would be ready by now. I found myself popping into the guild daily—partly to check on if my badge was ready, partly to see what new contracts were available.

As I stepped inside, I was immediately struck by the sheer number of people. The guild was packed and far busier than usual. The space buzzed with movement and conversation, voices overlapping in a mixture of familiar and foreign accents. Many of the individuals present were unlike any I'd seen before—travelers donning armor and clothing of unfamiliar design, some lined with intricate embroidery, others worn and practical, speaking in tongues I didn't recognize. Near the center of the hall, I saw a few groups of people. Among them, I saw some of them were Sylvean.

I had known of their existence but had never seen one in person up until now. A Sylvean is what we would consider a 'beast man' or perhaps 'demi-human'. The term 'beast men' conjured images in my mind of creatures more animal than human, but the reality was far different. They bore human-like physiques, their features accented with traits unique to their kind—some had furred ears twitching atop their heads, others bore sharp claws or elongated fangs. Tails flicked behind a few of them, their animalistic eyes sharp and calculating. Yet despite these differences, they were undeniably more human than beast.

As I continued inside slowly, shouting crackled in the center of the hall.

Heated words sparked between the two groups, each seemingly unwilling to back down. The air was thick with frustration, Hands hovered near weapons, fingers twitching over hilts, the threat of violence hanging precariously in the air.

"You animals don't listen, do you?" One of the adventurers sneered, his voice laced with barely veiled disdain. "How many times do we have to tell you? Neither the guild nor the militia has any part in attacking your people! I think everyone here can agree that we want nothing to do with you. And you know that."

His companions murmured their agreement. Their faces hardened with indignation, though a few of them cast uncertain glances toward the Sylveans. The adventurers were used to conflict, but this seemed as though it was something different. Something far more serious.

A Sylvean with piercing golden eyes stepped forward. His wolf-like ears twitching as he scoffed, unimpressed. "You take us for fools, but I assure you—we are not so blind as to believe your words." His voice was low and steady, but barely contained the rage simmering beneath the surface. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small object before tossing it onto the wooden floor between them. A guild badge. The metal emblem clattered against the floorboards, its unmistakable insignia glinting in the dim light. The hall seemed to collectively inhale, the murmurs growing louder.

"This place has made its stance against our kind clear for years. It's bad enough that bandits and thieves have been attacking our outposts and hunting parties lately, but now we find out your fellow guild members are attacking us. And your so-called 'militia' is complicit." His eyes darkened. It was an anger that was not just personal, but deeply rooted.

"Two good Sylveans died defending their families. This badge is proof that your fellow guild members are responsible. The rest of them got away, but we killed one."

Another Sylvean stepped forward, reaching into a satchel and pulling out something else. With a firm grip, he unfurled a torn strip of leather. A guild crest was emblazoned on its surface, stained and frayed.

A ripple of unease moved through the room. Some of the adventurers stiffened. A few looked at each other warily, others stone faced. Even those who had been the most vocal moments ago seemed to hesitate.

"That doesn't mean anything" one of the adventurers said defensively, but there was doubt creeping into his voice. "Guild badges can be stolen. Armor too. Just because someone's wearing our crest doesn't mean they are one of us."

"Exactly" another added quickly, trying to regain lost ground. "And if you did kill one, where's the body?"

"Oh, we would have brought the corpse if we didn't have to burn it first." A golden-eyed Sylvean bared his teeth slightly, his voice dripping with venom. "He didn't exactly die easily."

Before the argument could continue, the heavy wooden doors of the guild swung open behind me.

The shift was immediate. The erratic, volatile energy in the room suddenly stilled—like a rope yanked tight just before it breaks. Conversations halted, arguments froze mid-sentence, and all eyes turned to the entrance.

Two heavily equipped men entered first, their armor bearing the familiar wear of routine patrols, but it was the figure between them that commanded the room.

She moved with a measured, effortless authority. Her tanned skin bore scars—some light, others deep. Her armor, lined with fur at the neck, was old but well-maintained, its leather straps reinforced, its metal plates scuffed from countless encounters. Though not adorned with any unnecessary ornamentation it carried a significant weight. A polished badge on her chest inscribed the name 'Captain Crest'.

Her hair was cut short in a tribalistic fashion and was a deep, fiery red. The tips burning into a reddish-orange hue like embers still smoldering. Her wolf-like ears were long and drooping. They flicked slightly as her piercing crimson eyes swept over the room.

Behind the guards I spotted Tia lingering near the doorway, her expression tense but composed. She must have been the one to call them.

The Captain stopped in the center of the hall, her presence alone demanding silence.

"What exactly," she said, her voice calm but firm "is going on here?"

The Sylveans shared brief glances amongst themselves before one stepped forward. His golden eyes remained locked on the Captain, filled with something other than just anger—something resembling reluctant familiarity.

"We were just leaving" the younger Sylveans said, his voice sharp. Then with a sneer he added "Something you would understand well... traitor."

There was a brief pause. Then to my surprise Captain Crowe smirked coldly, as if entertained by the insult. Without a word she stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. The message was clear: they could leave, but they would do so under her watchful eye.

One of the younger guards flanking her spoke up as the Sylveans began to make their way out. "Sir, this is the second time they've come here threatening the town folks. Should we really just let them walk away?"

Some of the departing Sylveans shot dark glances over their shoulders at the remark but did not stop.

Captain Crowe exhaled, her gaze never leaving the retreating figures. "The most they could be punished for is causing a public disturbance. Besides... they already know what would happen if they escalated things."

She didn't blink. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't make any overt threats. She didn't need to.

One of the adventurers took a step forward, still visibly upset. "Captain" he said, frustration seeping into his tone.

"They can't just keep storming in town and throwing accusations around like this. First they accuse the militia, now the guild? They haven't exactly proven their case very well"

The captain turned to him, fixing him with a steady gaze. "If there is some level of truth to their claims, we need to find out before they take further action. Sylveans aren't known to be liars. Someone is attacking them. That much is clear. It's no secret that criminal activity has increased in the territory lately."

Crowe's lips pressed into a thin line and after a few moments, spoke again. "Until we know more, I strongly advise against any further hostility. Even If the Sylveans come into town making accusations, I expect you to keep your weapons sheathed and your tempers in check. We do not give them reason to make a move, is that clear?" Her tone was sharp, a demand rather than a request.

A few of the adventurers grumbled under their breath, but none openly protested.

The tension slowly eased. The charged atmosphere shifted back into wary unease as everything began to go about their own business.

As I watched, I caught Crowe glancing at the discarded badge and fabric. Her expression was unreadable. She bent down and picked them up, inspecting them thoroughly. She turned the badge over in her hand, running a thumb over the worn metal. Something about it made her brow furrow. Her fingers curled around the badge, fixing the remaining adventurers with a firm gaze before taking her leave.

I took my attention away from the Captain and turned toward the reception desk where Tia and her mother stood, their quiet conversation tapering off as they noticed my approach. Elara still had a quill in hand, poised above a stack of paperwork. Tia leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed. Whatever they had been discussing before I arrived, they quickly shifted gears, their expressions smoothing into something more neutral.

Elara was the first to speak, her voice carrying its usual warmth. "Quite the scene back there. Probably not what you were expecting when you walked in I take it?"

"Not quite" I admitted, exhaling as I leaned against the counter. "Honestly that was my first time seeing a Sylvean up close"

Tia raised a brow, but it was Elara who responded first. "Really? Well, I suppose that makes sense. Sylveans tend to keep to their own communities. Even here, where there are more of them than in most places, they don't linger in town for long."

Tia studied me for a moment, her amusement barely concealed. "So what did you think?"

I gave a small shrug. "Not much different from anyone else—except for the ears and tails of course"

Tia chuckled at that, shaking her head. "That's usually what people notice"

I glanced toward the doors where Captain Crowe was discussing something with the other two militia men. "Didn't expect to see a Sylvean Captain in the militia though, just based off my limited knowledge it seems like quite a rare thing"

Elara hummed. "Ah yes. Captain Crowe. Now she's a peculiar one"

I leaned in slightly. "She seems quite competent at her job at least. Her presence is intense"

Elara nodded approvingly. "More than competent. She's one of the reasons the town has remained as orderly as it has the last few years. Most places don't have someone as skilled as her to help keep things stable."

Tia tapped her fingers idly on the counter. "People still grumble about her though."

I frowned. "Why is that?"

Elara set down her quill. "It's not just because she's Sylvean, though that's an obvious factor for some. The real issue is that she's... cold. Distant. Clinical. She often has no patience for pleasantries and doesn't care about earning people's favor"

Tia leaned on the counter, lowering her voice slightly. "Most folks respect her authority, even if they don't like her personally. She's good at rubbing folks the wrong way."

Elara gave a small nod. "She enforces the law strictly and doesn't play favorites. She's put down more than a few disputes before they turned into something worse. But the Captain doesn't even pretend to be part of the community. She keeps herself apart from practically everyone."

I mulled that over for a moment. "And the Sylveans? I noticed one of them called her a traitor. What was that all about?"

Elara exhaled softly, choosing her words carefully. "The Capitan doesn't see herself as Sylvean. Or if she does, she doesn't act like it. She speaks about her own people as if she isn't one of them. And they notice."

Tia folded her arms and interjected. "And she's got no love for Sylvean traditions. No respect for their way of life. She doesn't just keep her distance from the town—she keeps her distance from her own people. She acts like they're just another group she has to deal with. And to be fair, it is nice to have an unbiased person appointed as a Captain"

Elara was nodding as her daughter finished speaking. "Exactly. But, the Sylveans don't take kindly to that. They're a deeply communal people. To them, she turned her back on her own kind"

"No one really knows much about her, either." Tia chimed in while looking around the guild hall.

"How so?"

Tia looked toward her mother, Elara folded her hands together deciding on how to answer. "No one knows much of anything about her. Some say she's a former mercenary, others say she came from outside the territory entirely. But she's never confirmed or denied anything. I think she prefers it that way. Most of the town only knows her as 'Captain Crowe.' The only ones who actually know something about her are the Council, Captain Noell and Mr. Vincent"

frowned slightly. "Mr. Vincent… as in Hex?"

Elara nodded. "He's been around long enough to know a little bit of everything. Nothing ever gets past him, plus he used to be a part of the local council a couple of years back. No doubt had a hand getting her into the position she now holds today as he use to aid in the appointment of leadership positions since he's always been a trusted member of the community"

Tia was leaning against the desk, now giving me an amusingly questioning look.

"Now you have me curious" she said, tilting her head slightly. "You don't strike me as the type of guy who enjoys engaging in local gossip, Carver. What got you so interested in knowing more about the Captain?"

I glanced behind me, her presence still lingering in my thoughts. I considered my words for a moment before responding.

"Nothing serious or anything," I said with a small shrug. "She just seems like an interesting person, is all. She's clearly important, that much was obvious. And like I said- it was my first time seeing Sylveans"

Tia studied me for a beat as if weighing whether or not to pry further. Then with a satisfied nod, she clapped her hands together and straightened.

"Well, with that out of the way, I'm sure you didn't come up here to talk about town politics all day, did you?" Her tone shifted to something lighter, breaking the tension.

I blinked, momentarily pulled from my thoughts. "Right. I'm here to see about my guild badge."

She pushed off the counter with a nod, turning to a locked drawer behind her. Her fingers moved deftly over the keyring at her hip, selecting the right one without hesitation. The drawer slid open with a muted scrape. She began to sift through its contents, A moment later she retrieved a small sturdy badge and held it up to inspect it under the dim light before sliding it across the counter.

"Here you are," she said with a grin. "Freshly minted and ready to go. Congratulations, Carver!"

I picked it up, running a thumb over its surface. The metal was cool against my skin, the guild's insignia etched deep into its surface, my name inscribed beneath it in neat, deliberate strokes. The craftsmanship was simple but solid—no unnecessary embellishments, just something built to last.

The weight of it in my palm felt heavier than expected. It wasn't just a piece of metal—it was proof that I belonged here, that I was officially part of something.

"Feels good to actually have something this official," I admitted, turning it over once before slipping it into my belt pouch. "Suppose all I need to do now is decide on the next job I tackle."

Tia turned, casting a glance over her shoulder at the job board. "I've noticed you in here a few times but never picking anything out. Looking for the right one I take it?"

I hummed in response, already making my way toward the board. The parchment postings pinned haphazardly across its wooden surface fluttered slightly in the afternoon breeze slipping through the open hall. Today, the board looked more picked over than usual—most of the higher-priority requests had already been claimed by seasoned adventurers.

I leaned in, scanning over the remaining options. Guard work, escort missions, supply runs—nothing stood out.

"I suppose I'm just a bit picky," I joked, though there was some truth to it.

My fingers traced the edge of a posting before I stepped back. "I'll make up my mind tomorrow," I said after a moment. "I'm in no major rush."

Elara, who had been listening quietly from her desk, spoke up. "It's better to be selective than to bite off more than you can chew."

I nodded appreciating the advice, and after exchanging goodbyes, I turned toward the exit and left.

Stepping out into the fresh air, I let my thoughts drift. The guild badge sat snug in my belt pouch, the cool weight of it a reminder of the next step I had to take. But for the moment, my mind wasn't on work. I was still turning over my conversation with Tia and Elara in my head.

Crowe.

I didn't know why she had caught my attention, but she had. It wasn't just her reputation or the way she carried herself—it was the fact that no one seemed to know much of anything about her. A mystery wrapped in steel and duty.

I was so lost in thought that I was practically walking on autopilot, navigating the familiar streets without much conscious effort. The main road stretched ahead, the ebb and flow of the town's evening traffic settling into a comfortable hum of voices, cart wheels, and the occasional distant shout of a vendor packing up for the night.

Then as I rounded a corner, I caught sight of her.

Captain Crowe stood near the entrance to the council building, engaged in quiet discussion with one of her men. She had her arms folded, weight shifted slightly to one side in a posture that looked almost casual but wasn't. Even at ease, there was something guarded about the way she held herself, like she was always waiting for something—or someone—to give her a reason to act.

I couldn't make out what they were talking about from this distance, but the way the other officer nodded quickly while glancing up and down at the guild badge he held in his hand before heading off suggested orders had just been given.

It was then that she turned my direction ever so slightly, as if she had sensed my eyes on her. For a brief moment, our gazes met.

Her crimson eyes were assessing me. There was no hostility in them, no overt suspicion. Just quiet, unreadable interest.

I wasn't sure why, but something about the way she looked at me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end—not in fear, but in an instinctual way. I wouldn't admit it out loud, but I found her intimidating.

Not wanting to seem like I had been staring, I gave a simple nod before continuing on my way. Even as I walked, I had the distinct impression that she was still watching me.

Maybe it was just my imagination.