She closed her eyes while unconsciously furrowing, which made a few passersby take a wide berth around her in order to avoid going near the clearly well armed and supposedly angry adventurer.
'Ugh… I hate this…'
She opened her eyes again and uncrossed her arms before reaching for the back of her neck with her right hand. After tilting her head to one side and another to relieve the tension on her neck, she let out a short sigh as she pushed herself to walk towards the tavern.
Groups of adventurers gathered around the entrance after buying drinks to enjoy it in the chill evening air outside. Priscilla saw a few fellow female adventurers smiling and conversing with the rest which meant the men there were at least amicable enough.
She proceeded inside without making much eye contact with other patrons. One step in and her nose was hit with a mix of alcohol, tobacco and sweat. Many people were crowding the interior carrying tankards, wooden plates of food, trays filled with dried leaves and clay pipes. The air was heavy and unpleasant, but Priscilla decided to move up to the counter.
"One beer, please."
She reached for her pocket and slid six copper coins alongside the wooden surface. A man wearing a grimy apron came with her order with one wooden tankard full to the brim with beer. His slick brown hair was combed back, the hazel eyes were lazily inspecting the money before he took five out of the six coins and pocketed it.
He put the beverage in front of her and asked.
"Anything else?" He scratched his temple before wiping a bead of sweat with the back of the same hand. "We got some sausages cooking in the back on the coals."
"Huh, no, thank you." She grabbed the top of the tankard and rotated it until the metallic handle was facing her. "Do you know about a guy known as 'Father'?
"Ah?" His attention was on a tankard that he was wiping dry, but her words seemed to amuse him somewhat. The raised eyebrow and half smirk made it seem like he knew something. "Are you new in this city?"
She tilted her head in confusion.
"Why?"
"The only people looking for him are either the guards or bounty hunters." He glanced from the tankard to her eyes. "You don't look like the former."
'Guards…?'
She leaned forward a bit as she continued.
"So you know where he is."
"Hah, everyone in this line of business knows who 'Father' is—rather, was." He settled the dry tankard behind the counter and put both hands far apart while leaning forward. "Though, if you want more information—it'll cost you."
"Tsk."
"Hector, it isn't good business practice to extort money from new adventurers."
One familiar male voice came from Priscilla's right side which made her glance briefly towards it. A tall man clad in full plate armor approached them.
"Oho, Reinhardt. You know full well how we do business here. If Miss Adventurer here can't pay the fee then why would I give information?"
The name rang familiar in her ears as she looked up at his helmet.
'That name…'
"Ah!" She exclaimed with her eyes wide in surprise. "Sir Reinhardt!"
He lifted his gauntlet clad hands in a friendly greeting.
"Hey. Were you able to take any jobs?"
"Not quite. I'm looking for someone."
"The Lass is looking for 'Father'."
Hector's interjection made Priscilla give him a stern look that could almost bore a hole through him. To avoid any further trouble, Reinhardt decided to speak up.
"How about you buy me a drink and we'll talk over this." The armored adventurer glanced briefly at the tavernkeeper. "Would that be fine?"
"Well, I suppose that works." He replied. Priscilla begrudgingly nodded before leaving four extra coins on the counter which Hector was quick to pocket. "Aye, thanks for your patronage."
After getting his drink. Reinhardt ushered Priscilla to follow him outside the tavern as it was both too noisy and it didn't seem like the best place to talk about a bounty. They walked around to the side of the tavern where he stopped and started to fiddle underneath his helmet.
"Sorry." He said with his head tilted slightly up in order to access the leather strap beneath his chin. "It'll only take a minute." After loosening it up he grabbed the protective gear and removed it from his head—revealing a messy brown hair, dark brown eyes and a quiet, weary, but warm smile. "It has been some time, Miss."
"It certainly has. Once again, thank you, Sir Reinhardt." She bowed her head slightly. "If not for you, I wouldn't have been able to register at the guild."
"Oh no need to thank me, after all, you already did." He extended his hand to her which she replied by giving him his share of beer. "So, you're looking for 'Father', correct?" She nodded but his warm expression suddenly darkened just enough for her to feel something was wrong. "I advise against it."
"Huh? Why?"
"It's not… it's not an easy job, plus the reward itself isn't–"
"It's not for the reward." She had a glint of determination in her eyes that made Reinhardt widen his eyes in surprise for a brief moment. "It's for justice."
Her words made him hesitate for a bit, even smile bittersweetly before looking her straight in the eyes.
"I see. Very well." He took a sip of his beverage before pointing towards the church in the distance. "Beyond the church there'll be a lone shack near a tree, you'll find him there."
Priscilla flinched her head back in a mix of surprise and suspicion. If where that man lived was no secret, then why was he still there?
He clenched both her hand and teeth before looking up at him.
"Thank you for the information, Sir Reinhardt." She offered him her own beer, which he held while holding a sad smile on his face. "I must head off now."
"Mhmm. Be careful out there."
She nodded.
"I will."
With hurried steps she made her way into the alleys towards the slums. Reinhardt kept looking at her back until she vanished into the darkness, which by then he proceeded to speak softly, almost to himself.
"You are about to see how deep the corruption runs in this place." He glanced over his shoulder to a figure stalking him from around the corner. "Isn't that right? Elaine?"
Priscilla's fast pace was attributed to two things. The moon high in the dark sky and a nagging feeling of wrongness.
'All of this is strange… why would the guards and adventurers know where this man is, yet, never claim this bounty?' Her heart was beating fast and strongly—cold sweat formed in the palm of her hands as she swallowed dry. 'Maybe he's a powerful priest… I heard miracles can be as powerful if not more than elemental magic…'
She stared at her right palm and concentrated mana into it, which started to send faint sparks of electricity around it. After letting out a slow, deep sigh, she clenched it into a fist and started to pick up the pace—breaking into a light jog.
During the day the slums were, to put it mildly, a poor place to live in. At night, it was truly a place where danger could linger at any corner. The lack of lamplight, patrolling guards and the maze-like alleys meant that anyone armed with a decent weapon would be able to mug or kill anyone that came to that place unprepared.
Her eyes darted from corner to corner while gripping the scabbard with her left hand tightly in preparation for battle. Despite her lack of subtlety, she was able to go past the closed ruined church and reach the area where a lone wooden shack was built near a tree by the high walls around the town.
She noticed a faint light coming from behind the shack and decided to approach it silently. Walking slowly on her heels made her quiet aside from the occasional gentle metallic clink of the chainmail beneath her jacket. Her right hand reached for the hilt of her rapier and carefully drew the thin blade from within its scabbard. Faint moonlight reflected from the steel blade as she adjusted her grip—her free left hand was kept low with mana gently coursing through it, emitting a gentle light blue glow.
As she reached the windowless shack, Priscilla carefully peeked around the corner and noticed a scrawny grizzly man hunched over by a campfire. He held a piece of stale bread and food scraps skewered through with a tree branch. He wore nothing but a few rags which made her question if the person before her was truly a former priest.
'Aside from the hair… I can't see any resemblance.' She recalled the man's physique and it was nowhere like the sketch in the bounty papers. 'Hmm… can't be too careful…'
She took a slow, deep breath before she decided to openly walk into the campfire light. Her footsteps accompanied with the clink of her chainmail was sure to make enough noise to announce her presence, yet the man didn't even turn around—instead, he remained quietly taking care of the skewers.
Priscilla swallowed dry as she took another step closer while raising her voice to ask.
"Are you 'Father'?"
She asked while readying her legs to pounce forward to strike if he did anything else other than answer her question.
"Oh…? Are you perhaps new?" He turned his face towards her. His hollowed eyes, sunken cheeks and battered complexion almost made her flinch as if she had come across a ghoul. "I don't get many new visitors nowadays. Take a seat by the fire, we can talk a bit before you decide to arrest me."