Ilderson Adventuring Collective
IACGU01-Overbaked Diplomacy
Gusteau breathed in deeply, inhaling the enamoring aroma that wafted up from his coffee.
He nestled his mug between his two hands and smiled fondly. He loved a proper coffee in the morning and there were few places that had better beans than Khlen’s apartment.
He took a cautious sip and winced as the coffee burnt his tongue slightly. He placed it on the table and wiggled deeper into the orukian egg chair that he was sitting on, deciding it was better to wait than risk another sip.
Around him, the apartment sat quietly in the faint morning sun. Khlen’s apartment was small but she’d designed it well with some logical decor that Gusteau appreciated a lot. The centre of the main room of the apartment was a long island table that functioned as the kitchen counter and the dining table. The kitchen wrapped around the far wall and she had a soft human couch along the edge of the other wall. Other than that, Khlen had a few cupboards and left the rest of the space open and she dynamically moved what she needed in and out as she needed.
Gusteau also loved the fascinating mix of items that Khlen had in her home, with her belongings being spread evenly on the spectrum of mundane to delightfully bizarre.
He recognised the regular pots and pans that were used in north human cooking, and she had everything Gusteau would need if he cooked, but dispersed amongst it were other utensils that he’d never seen before, like a cup mixed with a pestle that had a lid and straw, a giant bamboo basket that sat next to the stove.
Even the chair he sat in was a relatively new experience for him. Its seat was set low to the ground and the cushioned seat curled around to envelope him in the chair, perched on the large circular stand. The benefit of being cuddled by a chair while he waited for his coffee to cool was not lost on him. The cushion and rug around his shoulder heated him up quickly and the temptation to fall asleep called to him in gentle tones.
It was cozy, that was what he liked about it. The table sat as a nexus and when Khlen was up, her home came alive as she worked. Then, there was a room for her bed and a small woodstock set into the wall and that was it.
And the location was everything. Gusteau was so jealous of where her apartment was situated on the hill-side of the River Haran; it wasn’t the swanky part of town by any means but it afforded a great view of the Valley plains beyond the river with a bathhouse and the River Market a comfortable walk away.
Her apartment was great but, realistically, it was Gusteau who needed to find better accommodation. He’d still been staying at the Great Flagon Tavern since he’d got to Ol’Haran and it was, frankly, an embarrassment.
Khlen had told him many times to move before but Gusteau couldn't find a place that was as cheap as the Flagon. He had a bed for sleeping and a table for rune filling and bijou binding and it cost him fifteen silver a month, which was a very charming price point.
He warily tried his coffee again and his eyes returned to Khlen’s bedroom door.
There was no movement yet.
But his coffee was just below scalding hot, which meant it was now drinkable. He hummed to himself and took another few sips before closing his eyes and falling back into the chair. Today was the eighth of February, a year ago he’d been stationed up north still in Reachol. The winter in the north was cruel and unforgiving, and more than happy to doll out frostbite to any who weren’t prepared.
Surviving the war had pushed him to the very edge a year ago. And then, it stopped. Suddenly and cruelly. He had been in a coma for four days and then in hospital for a month. Then rehabilitation for five months, wallowing in self-pity, before he made his way to Ol’Haran. He swallowed another mouthful of coffee and tried not to think of Manny and Aliza who had never made it home.
Gusteau shot up out of his chair with a sudden burst of energy. The dishes wouldn’t do themselves and he had all morning to drink his coffee. Or the next hour or so, at least.
He grabbed both sides of the sink and exhaled. He and Khlen had had a late night and it had left him feeling a little tender and the room around him in a bit of a mess. Their plates from dinner were stacked up on the side of the sink with food scraps sitting congealed on the top plates.
He tutted as he sorted through their dishes and mentally prepared himself. Cleaning them now would be no small task but he was ready.
He quietly placed each of the dishes into the sink and picked up the pot he’d used earlier. He placed it back onto the stove and moved back across the room to get more wood. The woodstock was tiny but fit a surprising amount of wood. He reached in and pulled a few smaller logs from the pile and then grabbed a few bits of kindling from the bottom just in case.
“Ah ah ah,” he breathed through the pain in his back as he stood up with the logs. He carried them carefully back through the room but one piece slipped from his grasp and banged loudly on the floor.
“Damn.” He carefully placed the others on the table. He wasn’t made to be quiet.
There was no chance that Khlen hadn’t heard the commotion, light sleeper that she was.
Gusteau grabbed the log from the floor and picked up one of the bigger logs as well and then stepped over to the oven. It glowed warmly and he welcomed the heat in the morning. The fire under the oven was still burning hot from when he’d made his coffee earlier, so it was only a matter of putting the new logs in the hottest-looking embers. He placed the pot back over the oven to reheat and moved over to the pantry to get the coffee once more. Khlen liked two scoops of coffee with a filled teaspoon of cinnamon and Gusteau smiled as he added them to one of her larger cups.
He left her coffee next to the oven and returned to his own for a sip. He still heard no movement from the other room and sunk into his chair to relish in the quiet once more.
He and Khlen had spent a few nights together so far and each one had been a blessing. They’d stayed up late into the evening and slowly get up like a couple teenagers.
He resisted the temptation to take a look at his runes. They were in his bag at the door but he wouldn’t have time to tinker and he didn’t want to read any of the articles he’d taken from the Institute's library. He was content to slowly prepare himself for the day ahead and he’d force himself not to be proactive.
Eventually, the water began to bubble in the pot and he wandered back over with his coffee to see to the dishes. He took the pot off the heat and poured a good amount of it into the sink before putting it on the far edge of the stove.
The water in the sink let off a gentle steam in the crisp, morning air. Gusteau frowned and shook his head. He’d activated the heat runes in the main room but they were clearly getting a little old. After twenty or so minutes, the room still hadn’t heated very up much.
He reached over to the rune that was stuck on the window and rested his hand delicately over it. Closing his eyes, he pushed a little of his magic into it and felt the magic slowly seeping through the gate’s filter. Interestingly, it wasn’t that it was in poor shape, it was just overall poor quality. Its efficiency was dreadful and it only leaked out miniscule level of heat. Whoever had made the rune had not directed the heat to the front of the rune so a lot of the heat was wasted on the windowpane rather than being directed into the room itself. No doubt some two bit local runesmith. Gusteau took back his magic, removed his hand, and opened his eyes again.
Out of the window in front of him sat Ol’Haran. It was a gorgeous old town from where he stood halfway up the hill; A town that he had no regrets in choosing to travel to. Khlen had spoken of her home so fondly when they were in the army and Gusteau just knew he’d enjoy living there as well.
It was a storied town as well, it was the capital of the old Kingdom of the Schlupunt and it felt like the towns of the fairytales Gusteau had grown up hearing. The main areas of the town clung around the slopes of Mount Haran with its outskirts spreading out into the lowlands at its base.
Gusteau stood by the window and watched the people in the streets below him move about their business. Then, his feet started to itch again and he returned to the dishes.
Gusteau grabbed the water jug on the bench and poured a healthy amount of its water into the sink. He carefully dipped his pinky into the sink and found the dish water to be delightfully warm.
“Perfect,” he whispered to himself before moving back to the boiling pot.
He poured the rest of the hot water into Khlen’s cup and then put the pot and the remaining water straight into the sink. He swirled a spoon through the coffee and tapped the spoon lightly on the mug’s side. With any luck, it would be the perfect temperature by the time she woke up. Even the idea of seeing her with a cup of coffee that he’d made for her gave him a goofy grin.
He grabbed the scrubber and grabbed the pot out of the water before yanking his hands back out of the water. He took the water jug again and applied another liberal pour of the water to cool it down again.
With a quick test with his pinky again, Gusteau began washing the pot. He moved as quietly as he could but it made little difference as the dishes clanged together mercilessly.
“You don’t need to do them, Gust.”
Behind him, Khlen stumbled out of the bedroom wrapped from head to toe in her giant heated quilt. She flashed him a quick smile and shuffled over to her coffee when she spotted it sitting on the bench.
“I warmed up the chair for you,” Gusteau offered her eagerly. She hopped into it and he was rewarded for his efforts with a happy croon.
She crawled deep into the back of the chair and twisted the quilt around her to form a fluffy cotton cocoon. Gusteau watched her wiggle and settle until the only part he could see was her little snout poking out at the top of the chair.
Gusteau brought her coffee to the table and then returned to the dishes with renewed vigour. He worked through them much quicker now he was able to exchange silence for speed.
He did an occasional check and found Khlen dozing. Gusteau wiped his hands on his jacket and moved back to his coffee for another sip. Scooping it up, he wandered back to the table and carefully manoeuvred into the chair opposite Khlen.
“What’s your plan today?” she asked casually.
“Back to the Board at one after noon and then down to visit Lilly and then training,” Gusteau replied. He owed his half-sister a visit considering she was one of the last of his family that talked to him. She was wonderful and had done so much for Khlen and him when they had first come to Ol’Haran. He’d intended on visiting the last month but it was hard to find the time in his busy schedule.
“Ah good, tell her I say hi, please,” Khlen wiggled her face out of the quilt and opened her up just a sliver, “And back to the Board already?”
Gusteau sipped his coffee. It had only been a day and he already felt ready to be on the road again, “Just having a look at the new contracts that are out.”
“I’m not going anywhere before Thursday, Gust.” Khlen warned him gently.
“Nothing until Friday morning,” he confirmed, “But we’ve got the markets tomorrow night still?”
Khlen flicked her tongue above her coffee, “That sounds lovely.”
“Perfect,” Gusteau leaned back into the chair and settled in. The coffee warmed his belly and with tomorrow confirmed, his next few days were looking wonderful. He had training with Hoden in the late afternoon, and then plans to train with Ana tomorrow morning and then he’d fit in a few trips to the shops to restock his adventuring gear and his runes. He’d rebind the runes for their next adventure when he had some spare time and then he would get to see Khlen again.
“How did you sleep?” Khlen asked him across the table.
Gusteau exhaled heavily, “Not great. It took a while and I kept waking up.”
“One of the dreams?” Khlen now had her eyes open and watched him openly. The fact that they’d be friends for so long meant there wasn’t much Gusteau could get past her.
“Same nightmare, back at Reachol.” he confirmed.
“You can talk about it, there are people for this. I have one physician who I trust.” Khlen offered.
Gusteau pursed his lips and tried to act interested, “Maybe another day. I just need a bit of time to get my head around it.”
“Makes sense but the offer is there.” She reached her right hand out and picked up her coffee. Gusteau had a mouthful of his own coffee and watched her doze with her hands wrapped around her mug.
“I also need to go to the Ral’s Runes this morning,” Gusteau noted innocuously.
“What about our brunch?” Khlen enquired suspiciously.
Gusteau shifted in his seat and tidied the table to buy some time, “I was thinking breakfast,” he offered hopefully.
Khlen took a drink of her coffee and didn’t reply.
“What are you doing today?” Gusteau asked belatedly.
“I am having breakfast with you and then I am training with Ana later on.”
“Oh, at the Hill Grounds?” Gusteau didn’t try to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Yeah, she asked for around three after noon,” Khlen confirmed. Ana had taken on Khlen’s advice to get more serious about martial training to heart it seemed.
“I might see you there as well, Hoden and I are going to train from four,” Gusteau commented. He might even try to get to Hoden’s house a touch earlier.
Khlen’s smile reappeared at his suggestion and she sat up. The quilt covered her like an oversized shawl with her hands poking out either side and she settled into a proper seated position..
“Well, I have bread and eggs in the pantry. I figure if you have to reschedule, it only seems fair you cook.” She theorised playfully.
“That would be brilliant,” Gusteau got out of his seat to move back to the oven. He grabbed a log on the table and tossed it into the fire before he closed the hatch shut. He heard the whoosh of the fire and leant over to fetch the large saucepan. It was a large pan, perfect for breakfast. Gusteau gave it a spin and placed it gently onto the stovetop.
He hurried over to the pantry as the pan heated. Her pantry was only stocked for a few days at a time and had little in the way of condiments. Gusteau had a small stash of snacks in his tavern room and he still had to throw some of the food out when he went out on long contracts.
He grabbed the eggs and two baguettes out and his hand hovered over an all too familiar paper packaging of the salted beef that Khlen loved to bring on their adventures.
“Want some beef in it too?” Gusteau called back out to the living room.
“Ooh, yes.” Khlen called back sleepily.
Guteau grabbed the beef as well and moved back to the stove to find the fire beneath it going nicely. He dropped off the ingredients, popped the pan off the heated part of the stovetop for a minute before heading back to take another sip from his coffee.
He watched Khlen doze peacefully nestled in her chair. Her scales glinted with the soft sunshine that came through the window. She’d planned the whole kitchen setup based on how the sun came in through the window in the morning. She had told him about her setup when he’d first come to visit. She always had a plan or an idea formulating in her mind and he loved hearing her talk about them.
Gusteau had fallen for Khlen years ago really, but never felt confident enough to mention it. He’d just never thought he would have had a chance. Or the time. Or he didn’t want to risk finding out if it was more than just being friends.
Or in the army, it was all business and in Kudraul, he was going through a lot of acclimatising back to normal life. He’d not been able to see her much when he was back in the capital and it never felt right. Not until they’d moved down south. And then, at long last, they’d made the leap and the sparks had flown.
Gusteau grabbed his coffee and drained the last of it quickly before getting a move on. He needed to get breakfast going.
Back at the counter, he grabbed one of the larger bowls and cracked six of the eggs and whisked furiously. A couple of chillies and a handful of coriander from the windowsill would help. He quickly chopped them both and that would have to do. He could get her a little basil plant next time he came over. Maybe. So long as it wasn’t too presumptuous.
He poured the mixture into the pan, put the pan back on the fire, and listened happily as the eggs gave a satisfying sizzle. He had no idea if that was too presumptuous really, in the past he would have bought Khlen basil without a second thought. Now, with everything, it was uncharted territory.
Gusteau added the beef to the omelette and stirred it into the mixture absent-mindedly. Khlen and he had been meeting up for a month or so but they’d not discussed it nor put a label on it.
It was easy and casual and oh how Gusteau loathed it. He was a grown man, he had no need to spend all of his time with Khlen nor did he begrudge her living her life, but knowing where he stood would make things easier.
It also didn’t help that she was the person that he would normally talk to when he had a tricky situation like this.
“How is it going over there?” Khlen asked him.
“Nothing. Everything. Everything is going according to plan,” Gusteau poked at the omelette. It had become somewhat solid and looked pretty appetising with the speckles of green, red, and brown mixed into the yellow pillowy eggy mixture. He added the bread into the kiln to the side of the stove. “A couple more minutes.” He called across the room.
“No hurry from me,” Khlen replied, “Just enjoying the show.”
Gusteau flipped the egg and did a little dance with his hips. Good news.
“Hey Khlen,” Gusteau began hesitantly.
“Yeah?”
“The kid that got away. He hit me with wind magic.” The mention of it made his left hand hurt. The menders had been horrified when he showed them the damage that his acid had done.
“Boy, did he,” Khlen agreed lightly, “He sent you flying back.”
“He didn’t have a bijou. He had his hands in the bag and the bag didn’t move. He didn’t activate the wind, he casted it.”
Khlen sat up in her chair and stared at him. He shrugged and her face became more serious, “Ok, well. That’s bad then. I mean he used magic without a focussing charm, you know what that means.”
“Cour magic,” Gusteau concluded dejectedly. For a human to use Cour Magic, it was practically a death wish. Humans that could use Cour magic didn’t last long.
“And no chance he maybe activated the bijou in the bag?”
“Doubtful. He looked across at me and boom. I was in the air. No delay, no activation, just boom.” Gusteau wished he was wrong, Good Gods’ will he was wrong.
“Well, he’s a ticking bomb then. Is that why you are heading to the Board today?” Khlen walked over behind him and engulfed him in a hug with her and her quilt.
The warmth radiated off her scales and the inside of the rug and sent a rush of ecstasy through Gusteau’s body.
In contrast, her words cut through him like ice. He’d not considered that he would have to report the Cour magic. And when the Board heard about the kid and they’d hunt him down.
“I’ll have to but I wash my hands of it after that. With Filienne’s grace, he won’t be anywhere populated when he goes off.” The idea of it made Gusteau sick. They’d all heard stories of towns swallowed up by a Wild event. Of the destruction that could be wrought if the Cour-touched children weren’t dealt with. Gusteau had only ever seen one Wild storm before and he was in no hurry to relive the experience.
Khlen pulled him close in a hug and he closed his eyes happily.
“It’s really not in our hands in any case. The House is responsible for dealing with Wild mages.” Khlen comforted him.
Gusteau picked up a plate and flipped the omelette out of the pan before stepping himself, and by extension Khlen, over to the bread.
“Breakfast’s ready.” Gusteau said, changing the subject.
Khlen gave him one last squeeze and then let go with a delighted hum. She crossed the kitchen and threw the rug over the roof of her egg chair before taking a seat. Gusteau plated everything for the both of them and brought over their plates.
“Looks amazing,” Khlen reached out for the plate and took it before he could put it on the table.
“My pleasure,” Gusteau sat down and pulled his chair closer to the table.
Khlen shuffled back into the chair’s cushions and tore a piece of bread and omelette and popped it into her mouth. The morning sun had started to increase in strength and Khlen’s scales sparkled a deep emerald green along her scales.
Khlen finished her mouthful before pressing him, “What are you looking at, Monsieur?”
Gusteau shoved a piece of bread in his mouth and started eating. After a few chews, he shrugged and pretended to not be able to speak.
Khlen smirked at him, “I can wait. What are you looking at?”
Gusteau swallowed his food first and then his pride. He cleared his throat and replied, “I just think your scales look beautiful in the sun. I always have, honestly.”
Khlen said nothing for a second and instead broke off more bread to eat. “Well then. You may continue to admire me.”
A wave of exhilaration swept through him and he busied himself with another bite.
She had never hidden her body since he’d known her. She had laughed at him when he had brought it up. It was more bizarre how uptight humans could be was her opinion. She was proud of her body and refused to cover up if she didn’t want to.
“Just wait until you see my scales after a shed then,” Khlen added thoughtfully after a moment.
“I ah, well. That sounds good.” The words fell out of his mouth and fell dead at his feet.
Khlen grinned evilly, “Oh Gust, it's fine. All things considered, I think you can be a little nosey.”
“Sorry, I just didn’t want- ,” Gusteau forced himself to stop and he cleared his throat.
“I can’t wait to see it.”
“I would hope so.” Khlen kept a smirk on her face but returned to her food.
It was several minutes later before his curiosity forced his hand, “Does it really make a big difference?”
“The morning after a shed; it is gorgeous,” Khlen replied happily, “I set the mirror up out here sometimes and just watch the light dance on my scales for a good while most of the time. Or some of the time..”
“Amazing, how often does it happen? I’ve just never known,” Gusteau clarified at the end, nervous he was asking too much.
“Every six months or so but it can depend on illness and stress. Mine is meant to be next week and it can’t come quick enough.”
“And does it hurt?”
“No no, it more just feels,” she paused to search for the word, “tight before you shed. Like you are wearing pants that are just slightly too snug.”
“Huh,” Gusteau sat back in his chair. He knew the feeling a little too well these days.
Khlen continued to eat while he processed. She took a chunk of the bread, ripped off the crust and used only the soft fluffy bread on the inside with her omelette.
“Oh, sorry Khlen, you like fresh bread,” Gusteau apologised after it dawned on him. He’d forgotten again.
Khlen waved her hand dismissively, “It’s fine, the bread was a bit stale anyway. The crust is just so crumbly when it’s reheated.”
Gusteau took his bread and tore a chunk of the inside of his baguette.
“How about a trade?” he offered.
“No no, but you can just have my crust as punishment,” Khlen answered playfully.
Gusteau leant over the table and grabbed the bits of crust that had accumulated on her plate.
With the markets not open, he’d need to consider what he would be doing for food that night. He hadn’t been back to his room for about a week, give or take a few days. No doubt the bread on his desk in his apartment was now past good as well as any other odd assortment of foods he’d accidentally left for the mice.
Perhaps Hoden would want to grab food after they trained. It’d be good to spend time with him out of contract time. And he’d have plenty of time tomorrow to head to the hillside markets to resupply. He’d just have to make sure he got enough food for today, really.
Gusteau looked back up to find Khlen standing next to him. She’d finished her breakfast and, to his surprise, he’d nearly finished his own. He’d not realised how ravenous he had been. Without a word, she held her hand out for his plate.
“Thanks,” he finished his last bit and passed her the plate, “I can do the dishes though, I’d be happy to.”
“No no, if you need to hurry, I can clean up,” Khlen took the dishes to the sink and placed the pot of water back on to boil.
“Well,” Gusteau hesitated, “I really can just go to Ral’s another day.”
Khlen wiped her hands on a dish cloth and turned to him, “Oh really? So we do have some time.” she smiled at him impishly.
Gusteau shrugged honestly.
“Well then,” Khlen walked back into the bedroom, leaving the door open for him.
Gusteau didn’t make it to Ral’s Runes. He’d spent most of the morning with Khlen before he dropped by Lilly’s for a quick visit. It was past midday when he made it to the Silver Spoon but he had no regrets.
The dining room of the Silver Spoon had its usual midday hubbub, with a good number of patrons dispersed through the dining room for lunch. As he stepped into the dining room proper, Gusteau searched the room for anyone he knew.
Several members of the Southern Guild Adventuring Party sat at the front tables but their leader, Wren Toin, was nowhere to be seen. The Southern Guild Adventuring Party was an institution in Ol’Haran with twenty five odd members all together. They contracted mostly in silver contracts with the occasional copper but they had been a constant for decades in the south and were well regarded despite not taking the higher tiered contracts. It was a respectable decision to help the common people.
Further to the back of the tavern was Areli Sjun, a Red Damnable, sitting with someone Gusteau didn’t recognise. He watched Gusteau disinterestedly from his seat and sipped at his drink.
The Red Damnables was another of the famous parties of the south, for better or worse. Rumours of their deeds had floated around for many years and the war had been their moment to catch the limelight. No job too dangerous, nor too foolhardy for their party.
They’d done incredible things, multiple times in the Northern War, far behind the lines of the Mevikian Tribes and being called vengeful ghosts by their tribes by the end of the war. Their adventuring party had fought for Weidenland in ways others couldn’t imagine and made it back somewhat intact.
They’d fought in ways that no decent person would if Gusteau were to believe the rumours. From the conversations he’d heard around the House tables, they were unscrupulous demons, hellbent on violence and death.
Gusteau had kept any interactions with them curt and direct. Especially now they were run by Harlea.
Harlea the Drunk, the Sick, the Mad. Gusteau had had run-ins with the crazy red man before and he was shocked to find the man leading the Damnables in Osexi’s place when he’d come south.
Granted, when Gusteau had heard what had happened to the Red Damnables in the last days of the war, he’d been horrified for more reasons than just their new leader.
Gusteau’s eyes drifted from Areli before he noticed. There were few others that Gusteau recognised. He turned back towards the bar and smiled at the barkeep, Cece.
“Good morning, Gusteau. Back already?” Cece asked politely.
Cece was one of the owners of the Silver Spoon and she was an utter delight. She was a faetyr but Gusteau could hear the southern Weiden twang that marked her a local.
“Can’t seem to keep away,” Gusteau took a stool at the bar. “What food have you got going for today?”
Without looking, Cece poured a drink and handed it to one of the waiters, “There’s a lovely stewed mutton with rye, or pinenut, for a silver and two copper or we have a few baked cod with baked potatoes left from last night at eight copper for you,”
Gusteau pretended to mull over the decision for a second, “I think I might go for that cod and some potatoes.”
“A wonderful choice, grab a seat and I’ll have Heure bring it out for you, darl.”
Gusteau went to thank her but Cece had already moved back across the bar to the next person. He pulled the copper out of his belt and left it on the bar.
Instead of sitting down, he moved past the bar to the contract board on the far side of the tavern. The contract board had twenty or so contracts pinned on it but only five of them were of any interest to Gusteau.
He unpinned three of the contracts and searched for the contracts he’d seen the night before. He couldn’t see the contract for the cultists nor the wolves.
He frowned. He must have been too late. The remaining three were all bronze, perfect for their party like they had all agreed to. No silver or gold until they were all ready.
Gusteau pulled the first contract closer to his face. It was the contract about helping a village in the high passes to Mahenia with a mysterious blockage in a mountain tunnel. The one that Ana had wanted to do. He placed it between his right-hand ring and middle finger to save for later.
The second was a bounty on some poor oruk who couldn’t pay their debts, which was an easy no from him.
He pinned the second back up on the board and switched the tunnel contract to his left hand. The third contract was a military contract that offered one hundred and fifty silver for the location and detainment of a deserter who had made their way down south. It was very very good money but not worth it if the bounty was so high for just one person. Gusteau pinned the third contract back up as well.
He gave a last cursory look at the board and spotted one other new contract he hadn’t seen. It was a silver contract for a Wild Node removal along the western coast. It was a tempting offer and given they had three mages in their party that could theoretically handle it. Though, Khlen would likely kill him if he accepted it without consulting her.
They’d get to silver contracts eventually. But for today, his choice of contract was easy.
He shifted back and checked the tavern’s dining room again for any friendly faces. He needed to network more but he knew no one in the south and the few attempts he’d tried at small talk had not been successful.
With a sigh, he sat at one of the tables near the board and placed his bag on the chair next to him. He could check his bijous and his remaining runes at least and see if any of the used runes could be rebound. Most mages wouldn’t bother with refilling runes but Gusteau had the prerogative of being able to check them properly and the financial situation where it was worth it.
He pulled out his travelling belt and placed it on the table. It was a scrappy looking belt with various small pockets sewn along it, several by his own hand. Its leather was distressed and worn and weathered and he loved it more than any of his other worldly possessions. It had been with him for years, throughout the entire Northern War and had served him well through it all.
He carefully sorted through each of the belt’s back pockets to search for the bijous he had made before their last contract. He placed each of them on the table in front of him and kept a track of just how many botane bijous he had and how many cold bijous he had. He took out the small notebook from the large pouch at the back of the belt and checked the tally from before they’d left Ol’Haran.
He had twenty one bijous recorded. Then, with fifteen used and three rebound during their trip, he was down to nine bijous by his normal count. Or seven because his notebook said that two of his botane bijous had expired as well. Those two would need to be unbound and then replaced, but at least there was none that was unaccounted. He annotated that two expired charms were from his rings and moved on to his bag.
He reached under the table and heaved the bag up onto the chair next to him. He opened it up and rummaged for the cushioned rune pockets that were sewn onto the bag’s interior.
He opened the first cushioned pocket and carefully pulled out the expired runes he’d placed inside the layers of velvet. He flicked to the back of his small notebook and found the correct page for his current rune tallies. In front of him was a small mound of six runes set next to his notebook. He sighed a deep, weary sigh.
His tally from yesterday was eleven runes but six of them were exhausted and he had no idea how many he’d be able to recover. He never seemed to have enough runes these days. He could refill them but if they were cracked, there was little he could do. He flicked through the pages at the back of his book and watched the number of runes he had slowly declined.
He missed the old days where he could simply put in request forms and have the runes he needed within the day. And when he had a trained assistant who would bind his bijous in the exact way he liked per his instructions. All of it being no questions asked.
There was nothing he could do about it now except keep motivating his party to develop. And rebind the runes he could.
Gusteau pulled in a deep breath from his nostrils and tried to relax his mind. He found the process of rebinding to be calming with the requirement of him clearing his mind to be a peaceful process. His fingers brushed along the six runes and he pushed magic inside to feel their barriers.
He prided himself on how flawless the barriers were. He’d been known in Kudraul for his bindings and he had had several House members request he bind their runes on special occasions because of his reputation. As his old tutor used to say when he was a child, a quality mage is measured by the bindings of their runes and the mechanisms of their bijou charms.
Content that none of them were badly damaged, he tapped lightly on the first of the six runes and began a proper check.
He pooled magic into his hand and carefully fed it into the bottom of the rune’s reservoir. He watched for any reaction but the base held well. He pushed the magic around the inner edges of the reservoir were reasonable, with no distortions nor hairline fractures that boded ill for the rune. He worked up and around and monitored for any cracks or deformation marks. The first looked good but he had little hope that he’d be so lucky throughout.
He worked through the second and third before he found another reusable rune in the fourth. Then the fifth was distorted but the sixth looked good.
He pushed away the four exhausted runes and focussed on the three that could be re-binded. He could refill them during the day and the rest would have to be sent to the extractor at Ral’s later in the week.
Gusteau picked up the smallest of the three runes and pulled the table’s candle over to his left hand. He put his hand over the flame and opened up the gate in his left hand to pull the heat in for conversion.
He focussed on the rune in his right hand and checked the rune’s walls again and found no deformation marks in it.
Content, he slowly began to fill it with magic again. He closed his eyes and the sounds of the tavern dropped away. The quiet talk, the occasional laugh, and the welcoming din of people living their lives moved into his background as he concentrated deep within himself.
It was similar to his days as a rower when he was younger. Once he found his rhythm, the magic came easy. Most of the trick to filling the rune was ensuring that the attributes of the magic stayed consistent throughout the process of filling the rune.
Time passed quickly for him. It was more of an artform than a craft in many ways. His meal came and went while he was filling the second rune. He snuck bites between his work, careful not to let go of the connection of the rune as he forked the odd potato or piece of fish and put it in his mouth. He ignored the several curious onlookers who watched him while he worked.
After the second rune was full, Gusteau then paused to check in with the tavern around him. The dining room had emptied out considerably now that the lunch rush was over. It was far quieter with only a few of the tables at the back with any patrons. Gusteau’s eyes surveyed the room before eventually locking onto one particular newcomer: Harlea of the Red Damnables.
He was a brute of a man. Even now, he sported a whopping black eye that had swollen up and shut half of his eye and his nose looked like it was broken.
It was not that Harlea was even exceptionally big, being only being slightly bigger than Gusteau himself, nor that he was in that much better shape than Gusteau. It was an aura of barbarity that curled Gusteau’s nose whenever he saw him. Gusteau regarded him openly and Harlea met his eyes evenly.
Gusteau locked eyes for a moment but blinked first and looked at others in the tavern. He pretended to scan the room and refused to give Harlea the benefit of a second glance.
Gusteau picked up his next rune and ran his mind over the bindings and checked the candle to make sure it was still lit.
The candle was fine but he struggled to concentrate as the flame flickered and magic slowly pooled. As soon as he finished his last rune, he could relax and enjoy his time at the tavern. He closed his eyes and concentrated on pooling the magic into the palm of his hand.
“Such pretty little rocks,” A gruff voice commented next to Gusteau. Gusteau first steadied the magic and then himself before he opened his eyes.
Harlea sat on the other side of the table with a smug look on his face.
Gusteau carefully stemmed the magic off into the air and let out a breath before he placed his hands on the table.
The room bustled around them but their table was quiet as the grave. Gusteau stared at Harlea impatiently.
Harlea stared right back. There were no weapons permitted in the bar but Gusteau had no idea what the madman might have beneath the flowing red fabric of his untucked shirt.
“They’re runes, Harlea.” Gusteau corrected eventually. He had better things to do and better places to be than sitting with the likes of him.
“Harlea? How flattering that you know who I am,” Harlea sneered and leaned back on the chair. The chair creaked and groaned as it laboured under his weight.
“It’s not flattering, we met in the war.” Gusteau did little to hide his disdain. The gall of this man. Gusteau hadn’t known how their first conversation would be in Ol’Haran after such a long time but Harlea had truly not learnt any decorum.
“Ah well, the war. You’re a long way down south then?” Harlea stroked his moustache and looked into the distance. “I’d say you’re a Kudraul local by my guess.”
“It should be hard to guess if you put your mind to it, Harlea.” Gusteau hinted impatiently.
“Don’t have much mind to put to it though, right?” Harlea acted relaxed but Gusteau could see the unkempt anger simmer just below the surface.
“You still managed to put two and two together about where I’m from. Seems like you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
Harlea pulled a face, “Little old contract dog me, I wouldn’t give me too much credit. Fighting and fucking is all we’re good at.”
The words echoed somewhere in the past for Gusteau but he couldn’t put his finger quite on when he’d heard them. He dry swallowed and took a second to find the words that Harlea would need to go away, “I think you undersell contractors. They can be noble and decent.”
“Just not me hey?” Harlea growled back.
Gusteau put a painted smile on, “Sporting a black eye that big, I’d guess you’d have trouble looking noble right now.”
Harlea raised an eyebrow and continued, “You’d have trouble being a noble as well, being disgraced and all.”
Gusteau saw red, “Like you can call anyone a disgrace, you dick.”
Quick as a flash, Harlea snatched up a marble rune from the table and inspected it in his hand, “Thing is, you sit here in the Silver Spoon still like your shit don’t stink. But you barely even count down here, Gusteau. You were kicked out of the army because of your dishonourable behaviour and now you come all the way down here, far from Kudraul so you can play adventurer. Doing contracts that you always turned your nose up at during the war and acting like you are somehow different.”
“Difference is I have enough members in my party. Last I heard, only four of you survived and you pretend like you are still the real Red Damnables.”
In an instant, Harlea was already out of his chair, looming over him with a crazed look in his eyes. Gusteau stayed in his chair but leant back in his chair as far away from him as he could.
Harlea took a belaboured breath but didn’t move. Then before Gusteau could move, Harlea swiped everything off the table and left. The plate shattered on the floor and his runes bounced around the tavern floor around the neighbouring tables.
“Hey!” Cece called from the bar, “None of that!”
Suddenly, Gusteau was left in Harlea’s wake and everyone turned to look at him.
Gusteau waited for Harlea to pass a few of the surrounding tables before he ducked under the table to collect his runes.
He tried to gracefully collect all of the runes from the floor and put them onto the table. The runes would need to be checked again, making his work for the last half hour pointless. By the time Gusteau had resurfaced, Cece was at his side with a broom and pan.
“The hells was that, Gusteau?” she asked him unimpressed.
“Why are you asking me? That man is unhinged.”
“There’s no fighting in the Silver Spoon and I do not appreciate your tone.” she scolded him.
Gusteau found himself at a loss of words.
Cece sighed and pointed to the Boardroom, “Go inside, Janshai has just stepped out but she’ll be back in a minute.”
Gusteau gathered his things and gave a final quick apology. Part of him railed against the injustice of being told off like a child but he knew when to keep quiet.
Harlea came up to him and he was chided. But there was nothing he would be able to say to make it better while Cece cleaned.
He moved out to the bar and around to the door into the Boardroom. The tavern sprung back into life and Gusteau quietly slipped through the door.
The Boardroom itself was gorgeous. It had a similar layout to the rest of the tavern but with good care and attention to keep it clean with several artefacts scattered around the back wall of the room. The wooden floor in the room was spotless and the sunlight that came in through a giant bay window contrasted noticeably with the poorly lit dining room.
Gusteau moved past the Board table and to the window. He leant on the windowsill and tried to calm himself down.
It was a beautiful day outside and he’d back out and amongst it soon enough. Any time he’d spent in the Boardroom had been purely business at the table so he’d never been able to explore inside the room. The view from the Boardroom was stunning. The tavern sat halfway up the Hill Haran on one of the tiers of the roads cut into the side of the hill and looked over the Harborkey River as it cut lazily through the outerholds of town. He shook his head and watched a river boat drift away from the Claypoint Docks.
It wasn’t like it was just Cece either. Harlea and the Red Damnables had this inexplicable immunity that still baffled Gusteau. During the war, the Red Damnables were an utter menace. They were known for their feats of bravery out in the field during the war, but everyone forget the chaos they created when they were in the garrisons. Any time they were in town or resupplying, trouble would follow.
Not to mention the rumours about the countless horrors they wrought on the Mevikian villages. They had massacred, pillaged, and looted the northern coasts and when the war ended, they were hailed as heroes for it. The Houses never punished them and they returned south to just continue to work contracts like nothing had happened.
He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to let it go. He shouldn’t have taken the bait with Harlea. It was idiotic to pick a fight with Harlea in the south.
Everyone knew that contract work was who you know and Gusteau had been working hard to ingratiate himself with the House Families and other important people in Ol’Haran. Getting into an argument with Harlea in the middle of the Silver Spoon Tavern would do nothing to help his position.
He checked his pocket for the contract he’d taken from the board and relaxed. Completing contracts was the most important part.
Behind him, the door squeaked on its hinges and Gusteau turned to see Janshai come in. She looked at him confused.
“You aren’t meant to be in here.” she stated disapprovingly.
Gusteau put his hands up and apologised, “I know, sorry, Cece let me in. There was a slight altercation outside.”
Janshai did little to hide her contempt, “It was you and Harlea before then?”
“He came up to me.” Gusteau responded quickly.
“Indeed.” Janshai ignored him and sat at the table. She sorted through her pages and took a sip out of her mug. Gusteau hovered by the window and watched her work.
She was a tall looming figure and she rarely smiled nor showed many emotions other than tempered disapproval. She was quite gaunt by Weiden standards and, given her Board position and the quality of her clothes, it wasn’t from lack of food nor money.
Janshai looked up at him and gestured to his seat.
“Ah yes, of course.” Guteau hurried to the seat opposite her. From what he could gather, she was a respected trader up in the Hill districts but she’d been an adventurer back in her heyday. Despite being a decade or more in the past, people still regarded her as one of the best adventurers of the northwest.
“Right, do you know the names of the contracts you would like to sign?” Janshai asked indifferently, with her eyes not looking up from the documents she held.
“Well, I was hoping to sign on for the contracts 2401233401 but I also wanted to check whether we had any off-listing contracts?” Gusteau slid the contract onto the table and tried to hide the hope in his voice when he asked about the off-listing contracts. They’d done well with the owlbear, there was a chance that they might be offered another contract soon after to keep them employed.
“Contract 2401, ok.” Janshai glanced briefly at the contract paper and flicked through the folder in front of her until she found the correct page.
“Contract 2401233401, it is an investigation and resolution contract based in the town of Agstad. It is listed at two hundred and forty silver and it comes with equipment for the blockage’s removal provided.” Janshai explained without looking up until the very end.
Gusteau scratched his chin and smiled when he made eye contact with her, “Well. That is very considerate of them. You wouldn’t happen to know how far away Agstad is from Ol’Haran, would you? I’m still new to town is all.”
“A day if you don’t dilly dally. And the off-list contract: contract 2701233405.”
“So I do have an off-list!” Excitement swept through him at the idea.
Janshai cleared her throat and patiently waited for him to recompose himself.
“Apologies.”
“It is a House Joi request from someone by the name of Sebastian,” Janshai continued.
Gusteau couldn’t help but notice how bored she seemed. The fact that she would have gone through the selection process to become a Board Member and so blatantly not want to do it confounded him.
Janshai’s eyes drifted back to the page as she read the document aloud, “It is a copper contract; cease and desist order for a young man who has been bothering a Family Resthart member at a price of twenty silver. The contact name is Sebastian Joi and they’ve asked you to meet them either at Eliza’s Tailor, a reputable tailor on the hill, this afternoon at five thirty after noon or at Finer Tastes tomorrow night at seven in the evening.”
“Very good, I will sign both and this Sebastian can expect me this afternoon,” Gusteau could organise with Hoden and then start training early and make it to Eliza’s.
Janshai raised her eyebrow but said nothing as she passed him the contracts. Gusteau mouthed thank you quietly while he grabbed them both and signed them eagerly.
Janshai took it back and began to thumb through the folder again.
“For contract 2401233401, we can hold it for a maximum of 48 hours for you to organise your party. But if you do not confirm your departure, it will then go back up on the board and you will be disqualified from reapplication.”
Gusteau sat up again and cleared his throat, “Oh no, process it today, please. We will leave on Friday so they can expect us on Sunday.”
“On Sunday?” Janshai's voice piqued in surprise, “You’re familiar with the thirty silver fee if you don’t deliver on the contract within the agreed window?” she asked as she shuffled the folders and placed them back into the pile.
“I am,” Gusteau replied and took another sip of his water. He could do both. It would be fine.
Janshai placed her hands on the table and gave him a faux, forced smile, “Goodbye Mr. Vent.”
Gusteau sat in his seat awkwardly for a second before stammering out a goodbye and leaving the Boardroom.
