The Heron's Rest was a pleasant inn more in line with what I was used to. The main floor was mostly a dining hall for food and drink and the rooms were up a flight of stairs. We arrived a bit before the evening rush of locals, allowing us to find a seat easily and ask after Orwyn et al. The barmaid, a stout but lovely lady with grey hair named Dame, got us drinks and went to see if they were in.

  Orwyn came downstairs with Damien looking more tired than we had left them. They were both mildly unkempt, as if they hadn't washed since getting off the road, and their eyes were dark and sunken. They sat down without a word as Orwyn gestured for a drink.

  "Tough day?" I asked.

  Orwyn shook his head, but Damien was the one who answered. "There are additional restrictions on moving between city districts. Taxes on moving goods out of the city. Heavy inspections moving into the inner city. Paperwork doubled at every gate in every direction. Borin apparently needs a license for his sword, which is ridiculous, but he's sorting that out now."

  "If I'd known all this was in place I would have gone another direction," Orwyn added, "But it seems like some of the inspections are brand new so I couldn't have known. Hell, I saw guards being handed new instructions while we were passing through the gate to our inner city warehouse."

  I found that odd. It hardly made sense to send runners out for changing taxes and the like; it made more sense to communicate these things at shift changes, where many guards would all gather together in one spot. And besides all that: Drifter certainly hadn't been forced to license his blade.

  It only made sense if something important had happened the moment we arrived, and my paranoia was worried that something was us.

  The merchants saw none of this on my face, however, instead having received their ales and fully settled into a litany of complaints.

  "I'm not sure there was a better option anyways," Damien added. "After getting here we heard about riots in Wystole while most of their military is gone. The fighting in Arestria is spilling over the border into Skasil and Eswar, and their unrest is expected to spread up here as well. Apparently Plaint's departure for Mount Bromid was delayed so he can help hold the border."

  "And the north is just... the north," Orwyn sighed. "Nothing happening, but also no money to be made. Norport is terrible."

  I nodded. "I know it wouldn't have affected your trade anyways, but have you heard anything about the south?"

  Orwyn leaned back in his chair and groaned. Seeing that his boss wasn't going to answer, Damien said "Yeah, road is closed."

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  "What do you mean closed?"

  "The Regent blocked it off and is guarding it. No one knows why. Only way south is through the Wasteland, or taking the long way through a neighbouring nation."

  I cringed at the thought of going through the Wasteland. Not only was it a horrible desert of basalt and glass, but there were two Awakened who simply roamed the land, their minds broken but their bodies left immortal.

  Durin the Heavy, a great magi once known for his incredible skill with gravity magic, was in the northern reaches of the Wasteland, the ground under his feet compressing into diamonds with every step. Despite the immense profits to be made if one could harvest these precious gems, they were left as is; the risks of approaching Durin were beyond any but the most desperate.

  The second immortal in the south had never been identified, but was commonly referred to as Berserker. He dragged long chains behind him, never let go of his giant double-headed axes, and muscles as tight as ropes seemingly held together his ragged body. His red beard was once white, I was told.

  We would not go through the Wasteland if I could help it. Drifter was an immensely skilled swordsman, but I was not yet sure if he was a superhuman on the level of those monsters.

  "This is all making what I have to ask a tad awkward, as the difficulty seems to be increasing." Orwyn raised an eyebrow at me, curious about what I would request. "I hope I'm being paranoid, but I worry we may need to exit the city quietly in a hurry. I'd like to ask if you can assist us in such a case."

  Orwyn answered immediately. "Sure."

  I was stunned, so he continued. "I like you two. We're in a weird time between times; may as well help my friends while I still can."

  Damien nodded his agreement, and Drifter nodded his appreciation. "Well, I appreciate it greatly. I'm glad we can count each other as friends."

  I thought the problem would be planning for some unknown situation, but Orwyn insisted I leave it to him. "I've spent a lot of time around Beorne. If you can get here I can get you out. If anything, it would be easier to arrange something without you because the situation is so odd right now."

  I was happy to oblige, especially as my own problems walked through the door.

  At this point the dining hall of the inn was filling up. The barmaid and innkeeper were serving food and drinks to the various people piling in after work. A man started playing his flute while another sung along. The atmosphere filled with fun, laughter, cheer, and so on. A whole neighbourhood was doing their best to unwind after work.

  But then Alex walked in. His presence did not immediately cause silence, but as people in his vicinity noticed him they quieted down and hunkered over their tables. As he passed by the musical table the tunes quieted to a whimper. The roar of laughter slowly faded to nothing. The clack of his heels became more evident as the room quieted down, and it became even more evident as he approached me.

  Alex seemed oblivious to the fear in the air. Or maybe he was used to it. I still don't know how guilty he truly is in the events to follow.

  "Virilus Legafil, you and your companion are invited to a party at the Regent's castle on Thursday, the twenty-first day of Spring's End. There you will be presented with your reward as well as recognition for your success in hunting down the dangerous criminal Varys of the Blood God Bandits."

  I accepted the invitation, but my paranoia was turning into something more solid. This was certainly far too much.