Shadows, Secrets, and Too Much Ale

The tavern was alive with noise, laughter, and the thick scent of roasted meat and cheap ale.

Arlan and his group sat at a corner table, battered but victorious from their lizardman hunt. Their bodies ached, their clothes were torn, and Beren's arm was still wrapped in bandages, but none of that mattered.

Because tonight?

Tonight, they were celebrating.

Tomas lifted his tankard, sloshing a bit of ale onto the table. "To not dying!"

Leila rolled her eyes but raised her mug. "Barely."

Beren clinked his against theirs. "And to getting paid."

Mira took a long sip of her drink, rubbing her temple. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I almost missed this."

Arlan leaned back, watching them with amusement. It had been a long time since he had been part of something like this.

For the first time in weeks, things almost felt normal.

Almost.

A Job Well Done

Leila tapped her fingers against her mug. "Alright, what's next?"

Mira sighed, setting her drink down. "We need to take another job soon. Keep leveling up, get better gear."

Beren nodded. "That fight with the lizardmen proved we need to get stronger."

Tomas groaned. "Are we really talking about work right now?"

Leila smirked. "Scared, Tomas?"

He scoffed. "Please. I'm built for this."

Mira ignored them. "We should take another quest tomorrow—something that doesn't involve nearly getting crushed by a lizardman chieftain."

Leila grinned. "What, no more lizardmen?"

Beren groaned. "I swear, if I see another damn lizard, I'm going to start having nightmares."

Tomas smirked. "I say we fight something huge. Something with fangs. Or poison."

Mira shot him a look. "You barely handled a chieftain. Let's not get cocky."

Tomas leaned back, flashing his most charming grin. "I can handle plenty, Mira."

Leila scoffed. "The only thing you handle well is disappointment."

Beren burst out laughing, nearly choking on his drink.

Tomas placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Leila."

Leila took a long sip of her drink, smirking. "Someone has to."

Arlan bit back a laugh. Even Mira, normally the serious one, looked vaguely amused.

Then—Tomas did something bold.

He leaned in just slightly, his smirk shifting into something far more dangerous.

"Oh?" he said smoothly. "And here I thought you enjoyed my company."

Leila froze mid-drink.

Beren stopped laughing.

Mira's eyebrows shot up.

Arlan nearly choked on his ale.

Leila quickly set her mug down, staring at Tomas like he had grown a second head. "You're drunk."

Tomas grinned. "Not drunk enough."

For once, Leila was the one caught off guard.

She opened her mouth—then promptly shut it.

Her face flushed slightly, but she covered it by taking another long sip of her drink.

Mira hid her smirk behind her cup.

Beren, meanwhile, looked like he was about to lose his mind.

A Watchful Eye

Just as Tomas looked ready to push his luck further, Leila abruptly changed the subject.

"We should get some rest," she muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Mira stretched. "Agreed."

Beren groaned. "Fine, fine. But I'm sleeping until noon."

Tomas leaned back with a victorious smirk but said nothing.

Arlan let out a slow breath, ready to stand—

Then Leila suddenly froze.

Her gaze locked onto the bar across the room.

Arlan followed her eyes.

A hooded man sat at the counter, barely moving. His face was obscured, but Arlan could feel it.

He was watching them.

Mira's expression darkened. "He's not a paladin, is he?"

Arlan's stomach tightened.

"I don't know," he muttered.

Beren clenched his fists. "Want me to go ask?"

Tomas smirked. "Maybe we just buy him a drink. See if he's friendly."

Leila shook her head. "No sudden moves. Let's just leave."

Mira hesitated, then nodded. "Agreed."

The group stood together, moving toward the door.

The hooded man didn't follow.

But Arlan could feel it.

The way his eyes lingered.

Watching.

Waiting.

And just as they stepped outside—

The man vanished.