Still That Old Tavern

Southern Cross Street in the City of Alchemy, once the most bustling place in town, had now grown rather quiet and desolate. Signs of the worsening economy were increasingly apparent. More and more shops were going out of business, leaving fewer and fewer proprietors able to offer work to adventurers. Patrons at the Slag Ember tavern had visibly thinned out lately. In the past, the tavern keeper would surely have flown into a rage; orcs were born with fiery tempers and rarely remained calm. Yet the tavern had been remarkably quiet over the past few days, primarily because it had changed owners. Its former proprietress, the orc woman Ona Hellfire, had already packed her bags, waiting only to liquidate everything she couldn't carry before moving away from the city. Meanwhile, the Slag Ember had changed hands twice in a single day, now seemingly incorporated into the official properties of the City of Alchemy. Private property becoming public property was truly a rare sight; usually, things went the other way around, with public assets being secretly converted into private holdings. However, whatever intricate political maneuvering lay behind it did not matter. As always, the orc bartender stood behind the bar, wiping down his glasses. It was just that the dwarf singer whose singing grated on the ears had already left, and with so few patrons around, the tavern felt terribly deserted. The orc bartender sighed with mild regret. That dwarf singer had actually been a decent guy. With the weathered air of someone who had witnessed both prosperity and decline, the orc bartender poured himself a mug of ale and sipped it slowly. A bell chimed as the tavern door was pushed open, and a tall knight clad in heavy armor strode inside. No self-introduction was necessary. Just from the rose and dragon crests engraved upon his plate armor, one could tell he was a paladin from the Ryan Empire. The orc bartender set down his mug and instinctively moved an empty bottle to where it was easiest to grab. However, once he got a clear look at the newcomer, he realized this wasn't the man from last time. Though the two shared a similar aura, the paladin standing before him fell noticeably short of the previous one in looks. Fanxing seemed not to notice the orc bartender's subtle movement and sat down naturally at the bar. "A glass of rum." Fanxing had come to gather intelligence. The ten Knights of Condemnation had dispersed throughout the City of Alchemy to collect every possible lead. The Slag Ember tavern was of paramount importance among those leads; it was here that Alan Watson had crossed paths with that lich and made an enemy of him, only to be captured by the lich during the war. The orc bartender poured a glass of rum, slid it over, and asked, "Paladins drink too? The one who came before only drank plain water." Fanxing downed the rum in a single gulp, then said, "Alan Watson is an ascetic. I admire him greatly, but I could never manage that myself. That said, this liquor of yours... you won't need to pour me a second glass." The orc bartender shrugged indifferently. "Most adventurers can't afford fine liquor. Cheap and plentiful is what they usually ask for. But, Sir Paladin, you didn't come here just for a drink, did you? If you're looking for information, I wonder if you know how things work around here?" Fanxing fished out a gold coin and flicked it with his thumb. It landed precisely in the breast pocket of the orc bartender's shirt. "The Ryan Empire never mistreats friends who lend a hand." The orc bartender maintained a polite smile, but inwardly he didn't believe a single word. From top to bottom, the Ryan Empire was made up entirely of humans, only humans. Since when had they ever considered other races friends? And upon hearing Fanxing's lie, the orc bartender grew even more wary. A paladin who could lie had most likely sworn the Oath of Vengeance. To eradicate all evil from the world, paladins who walked the path of the Oath of Vengeance were permitted to use deception and ambushes to a limited extent against their foes, or even temporarily ally with wicked individuals to eliminate an even greater evil. Aside from showing zero tolerance toward evil, paladins of the Oath of Vengeance held far more flexible moral standards. For this reason, outsiders sometimes disparagingly referred to such paladins as black knights. "Honored guest, what kind of information are you looking for? If it's about the details of that bet, I can describe it for you." Fanxing shook his head. "No need. I already know that scam quite well." The City of Alchemy had long since investigated the full details of how Alan Watson had been swindled out of thousands of gold coins. Fanxing had already received that dossier; this time, he had come for other intelligence. "How much do you know about that undead?" Fanxing asked. The orc bartender thought back, then said, "He wasn't a regular of ours. If I recall correctly, he only came by two or three times. Beyond knowing his name, I don't know much about him." "I heard that after swindling thousands of gold coins from my companion, he posted a commission here?" "That's right, a commission concerning the sewers. Please wait a moment." The orc bartender brought out the contract Anbaixiu had left at the tavern back then, and recounted to Fanxing all the details of what had transpired in the bar before and after the commission was issued. Fanxing listened closely, occasionally asking questions. "What's in the sewers? Why have they become so dangerous?" "I don't know. I'm just a bartender; I don't know the first thing about alchemy." "What does that lich want slimes for?" "I don't know. I'm just a bartender; I don't know the first thing about magic." "Then what about that trapped group of druids? If you repeat that line one more time, I'm going to challenge you to a duel!" "No need for that. I do know about those druids. They haven't left; I heard they're still in the City of Alchemy, though I don't know exactly where they're staying." ... After talking for quite some time, it couldn't be said to have been completely fruitless. Fanxing felt he had gained a modest understanding of Anbaixiu. This lich seemed to be very short on money. It was somewhat strange, but considering the recent situation in the City of Alchemy, it also seemed quite reasonable. Undead had no need to eat or drink, but the cost of any random magical experiment was enough to feed a commoner for a lifetime. Furthermore, a lich never slept, spending far more time on magical experiments than a human ever could, which naturally incurred even greater expenses. Still, that hardly counted as valuable intelligence. It wasn't as if he could dangle a gold coin on a string to fish the lich out. Fanxing produced another gold coin and said to the orc bartender, "Recommend a few rogues or rangers to me. Capable ones." The orc bartender pocketed the gold coin and asked, "Any specific requirements? Assassination? Infiltration? Theft?" "No assassination necessary. I need someone proficient in disarming magical traps. The assignment is to infiltrate a wizard tower, scout the traps, map out the layout, and locate any secret rooms and hidden passageways inside." Hearing this, the orc bartender frowned. "I'm afraid that won't be easy to find. Most adventurers have left the City of Alchemy lately, so finding suitable candidates won't be simple." "Don't worry, you'll be well compensated," Fanxing said with all the confidence of a wealthy man. A broad grin instantly broke across the orc bartender's face. He said to Fanxing, "What a coincidence. I happen to know the perfect candidates, and they're right here." Then the orc bartender hollered loudly, "Hastings! Hares! Got a job for you!"