Chapter 25 Easy Money
### Chapter 25: Easy Money
The morning sun rose lazily over the bustling town, casting a warm glow on its cobbled streets. Trill and Bren split paths after a quick breakfast at **The Silver Stag**. Each had their errands for the day—Trill headed toward the Herbalist Guild while Bren walked toward the shadowy alleys where information brokers operated.
The two exchanged a knowing nod before departing. They didn't need to say much; the rhythm of their partnership had grown unspoken but firm.
---
**Trill at the Herbalist Guild**
The Herbalist Guild stood nestled between a tinkerer's workshop and a mage's tower, the front draped in greenery with vines spilling over its wooden awning. The smell of fresh herbs and dried roots filled the air as Trill stepped inside.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with jars of dried plants, powders, and exotic ingredients. A few guild members milled about, inspecting leaves under magnifying glasses or carefully measuring out tinctures.
A bespectacled guild attendant greeted him with a polite but distracted smile. "How can we help you today?"
"I need these," Trill said, handing over a neatly written list of ingredients. The items were rare but not exotic, well within the guild's stock.
The attendant raised an eyebrow as she scanned the list. "Quite the alchemist, aren't you? Most of these are advanced ingredients."
Trill simply nodded, his expression unreadable. The attendant shrugged and disappeared into the back, returning a short while later with his requested items carefully wrapped in parchment.
"Anything else?"
"That'll do," Trill said, placing a pouch of coins on the counter.
He left the guild without further conversation, his focus already shifting to the next step.
---
**Bren and the Information Brokers**
Bren's path led her to the outskirts of the merchant quarter, where the buildings grew shabbier, and the alleys seemed darker. This was where whispers were sold, and secrets carried a price.
She stopped at a narrow door marked only by a faint emblem of an ear. She knocked twice, then once, the sequence deliberate.
A slot in the door slid open, revealing a pair of sharp, suspicious eyes. "What do you want?"
"Information," Bren said, her voice steady.
The slot closed, and the door creaked open. Inside, the room was dimly lit, filled with cloaked figures hunched over parchments and ledgers. A heavyset man at a central table motioned for her to sit.
"What are you looking for?" he asked, his tone businesslike.
"I want to know what's happening in the nearby forests. Strange occurrences, unnatural forces, anything out of the ordinary."
The man raised an eyebrow. "That'll cost you."
Bren placed a small stack of coins on the table. "And any news about Sherpa sightings."
The man hesitated, then swept the coins into a pouch. "The forests? Rumors of corruption, twisted creatures, something unnatural spreading. Hunters and lumberjacks have gone missing. As for Sherpa..." He paused, leaning closer. "A few were seen north of here. Not by name, but descriptions match. Enslaved, moving under orders, bound to a powerful mage."
Bren's face tightened, but she kept her emotions in check. "Anything else?"
"That's all I've got. For now."
She nodded and left, her mind racing.
---
**Trill at the Alchemist Guild**
The Alchemist Guild was an imposing building, its exterior decorated with intricate carvings of beakers and flasks. Inside, the air was thick with the sharp tang of chemicals and the hum of magical contraptions.
Trill approached the front desk, where a man with slicked-back hair and a grin that didn't reach his eyes greeted him.
"Welcome to the Alchemist Guild. What can I do for you?"
"I'm here to sell," Trill said, placing a small chest on the counter. He opened it, revealing rows of neatly bottled potions, carefully labeled pills, and fragrant remedies.
The receptionist's eyes gleamed with greed. "Impressive. But we'll need to assess their quality. Standard procedure."
Trill nodded, watching as the man signaled a guild alchemist to inspect the goods. The alchemist sniffed the bottles, examined the pills, and muttered incantations to test for impurities.
"Top-grade," the alchemist declared after a thorough inspection.
The receptionist's grin faltered for a moment before he regained his composure. "Well, these are quite... ordinary, really. I'll offer you fifty gold for the lot."
Trill's eyes narrowed. "Fifty? These are worth five times that."
The receptionist spread his hands in a mock apology. "That's the best I can do. Supply and demand, you understand."
Trill said nothing, his piercing gaze boring into the man. Finally, he closed the chest and turned to leave.
"Wait!" the receptionist called, panic creeping into his voice. "Perhaps we can negotiate."
"I don't negotiate with thieves," Trill said coldly, walking out.
---
**The Goons**
Outside the guild, Trill didn't make it far before a group of thugs stepped into his path. They were burly, rough-looking men, clearly hired muscle.
"Leaving so soon?" one of them sneered. "We heard you've got some valuable goods. Maybe you should share."
Trill tilted his head, his expression calm but calculating. "You don't want to do this."
The thug laughed. "Oh, I think we do."
The fight was over in seconds. Trill moved with precision, his sword flashing in the sunlight as he disarmed and incapacitated the goons one by one. They crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.
By the time the last thug hit the dirt, the crowd that had gathered was watching in stunned silence.
Trill sheathed his sword and stepped back inside the guild.
---
**Fear and Consequences**
The receptionist froze as Trill approached the desk, his eyes wide with fear.
"You sent them," Trill said, his voice low and deadly.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," the man stammered.
Trill leaned closer. "If you want to keep your job—and your teeth—you'll make things right. Now."
The man scrambled to his feet, disappearing into the back. He returned moments later with a large pouch of coins. "Here. Full value for your goods."
Trill took the pouch, his expression unreadable. "If I hear of you pulling this stunt again, I'll make sure you regret it."
The receptionist nodded hastily, sweat dripping from his brow.
Trill turned and left without another word, the coins jingling softly in his hand.
---
**Reunion**
Later that evening, Trill and Bren reunited at The Silver Stag.
"How'd it go?" Bren asked, noting the smudge of dirt on his sleeve.
"Productive," Trill said, setting the coin pouch on the table.
Bren raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "I've got news. The Sherpa were spotted north of here. Enslaved, under someone's control."
Trill's jaw tightened, his grip on the pouch firm. "Then we head north."
Bren nodded, her expression serious. "But we'll need to be careful. Whoever's behind this is powerful."
Trill's eyes burned with quiet determination. "They'll regret crossing me."
Bren didn't doubt it.
For now, they planned their next steps, the weight of their mission heavy but shared.