I convened with Drifter the next morning over breakfast. The standard breakfast that the innkeeper served was porridge with eggs, cooked with enough butter to give it a rich and satisfying flavor. It was a large improvement over the evening stew. Coffee, tea, and watered ale were provided for free with the food on request. The common room was filled with more people than the we had seen in the evening, which I only found a little surprising given the better food and better value.

  Normally we ate our food in silence after the usual interaction of "Morning." "Mm." but today Drifter made an odd comment after a few bites. "We need money."

  "We're not rich, but we should be okay for a bit. There are cheap rooms everywhere." We had even managed to make enough helping out villagers along the way that we'd almost broken even for the past few weeks.

  Drifter shook his head. "Times are getting tougher. Prices will go up for everything, lodging and food especially."

  I put aside that this was the longest sentence I had ever heard Drifter speak and focused on the words. "I can see it. At some point the crisis in the south will spill over and cause economies across the continent to go into wartime mode. Never mind that banditry seems to be on the rise and people will get far less trusting."

  "Mm."

  Silence stretched between us once again. I sighed. "That's all? You're the one with the thoughts, you talk about it."

  Drifter mulled over his words for a moment while he took another scoop of egg. "How do we claim the bounty on the godling?"

  "Varys?"

  "Ta."

  "No idea." I was, first and foremost, a historian. "We'll need to ask someone. The local guardhouse would be able to tell us, I imagine."

  The innkeeper came around with a jug of coffee and asked if we needed refills. I decided he was a good enough source of extra information and asked about the bounty. "Bounty poster usually has methods of proof. I imagine for one as big as Varys they'll either be willing to splurge on magical identification, so you don't need to do much, or they'll want the body or head to use for display. I should have a poster around, I'll be back in a minute."

  The innkeeper returned after doing his coffee round with a spare bounty poster. Varys the Vagabond, Leader of the Blood God Bandits. 7000ден. DEAD ONLY. Bring full body to Beorne city guards.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "Easy," Drifter said.

  "What do you mean? Are we going to drag his body along the road for a day?"

  "Ah." He looked over the poster again, clearly stalling for words.

  My godly image of the man was crumbling in a hurry. "We'll need to hire a cart, or at least a gorse or something, to transport the body. It's probably something we should sort out before we leave town, this is the biggest town before we hit Beorne by a fair margin."

  "Mm."

  The innkeeper was serving breakfast to the party behind us and chimed in again. "I have a merchant guest who's looking for extra guards to travel to Beorne in the next couple of days. I can introduce you two if you want."

  "Could you? That could make things easier for all of us."

  "Sure. Let me grab your plates, I'll take you over." The innkeeper dropped our dishes off at his counter - serving us additional caffeine along the way - and brought us over to a merchant named Orwyn in the corner of the inn, along with his assistant Damien and his normal full-time guard Borin. He made introductions and left us to chat.

  Orwyn started things off, not entirely enthused. "Only one of you looks like you could guard anything, and even then I'm looking for more of a mercenary group than a singular guy." He gestured at Borin and said, "I've got a guy already."

  I shrugged. "We're looking for more of a cooperative endeavour than to actually be hired. Drifter here is going to kill Varys and we need transport to claim the body."

  The group stared at us blankly. To their credit, they didn't laugh at us, but I did realize belatedly that Varys was an immense, dangerous monster in this part of the world, and claiming a dirty middle-aged man would kill him might beggar belief.

  Borin, specifically, was staring at Drifter, trying to glean some sense of power within him. Damien was the first to actually respond, saying "How do you plan to kill the most powerful man in the region?"

  Drifter shrugged. "Sword, probably."

  "Swor... are you kidding?"

  Borin laughed. "Orwyn, let's do it. I think they've got something up their sleeve."

  "You sure? They seem a bit naive." Orwyn furrowed his brow, attempting to see anything helpful in making a judgment.

  Borin nodded. "Yeah, it's not naivete. I don't know what it is, but he's sure he can do it."

  Damien thought for a moment. "We can't actually afford much for guards with our profit margins on this trip. If this works out we could actually make alright money."

  "We're gambling our lives on it, though," Orwyn pointed out, "It's not like we're camping out to save a denar or two, we're reducing our ability to protect ourselves. And Varys isn't known for being lenient."

  I thought about how to explain to these men that Drifter's combat skills were beyond comprehension. When he drew his sword it was unbelievable, and thus explaining it felt like a fool's errand.

  Our savior, in this case, was Borin. "How about we spar outside and we see how good he is? If he beats the hell out of me we might be able to at least skimp on extra guards, and we can play the Varys bit by ear if we run into him."

  I looked at Drifter. "You good with that?"

  He shrugged. "Ta."

  Orwyn sighed and downed the rest of his tea. "At this point I'm just curious. Let's go check him out."