Once he let go of restraint, Charles had been relentless. Not once, not twice, but three full rounds before exhaustion finally claimed him. Anne didn't make it easy—she was masterful at her craft. A single touch could revive a man, and she knew every trick to stretch his endurance. The night had been loud, decadent, utterly draining.
When Charles woke, the spot beside him was cold. Only the faint scent of perfume and a few red strands on the pillow remained. She'd slipped out while he was dead to the world. That was… troubling. One day, someone might exploit that vulnerability.
Still, he lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow. A dumb grin tugged at his lips as he stared at the ceiling, mind drifting across memories of soft curves and smoother skin. Half an hour passed before the door creaked open, and a young girl stepped in to wake him and settle the bill. She had to call him twice.
When he finally stirred and met her gaze—still grinning like a fool—he nearly died of embarrassment.
"Shit," he muttered, sitting up. "Hope I've got enough cash left…"
He'd been too drunk on wine—and lust—to ask the price last night.
Dressed and slightly hungover, he made his way down to the lobby. Behind the desk stood a poised woman, flipping through a thick black ledger. She looked up and smiled warmly.
"Hello," Charles said. "I'd like to pay my bill."
"Oh, good morning, handsome. You must be Charles—friend of Gerart? Spent the night with Anne?"
"Yes, madam."
She flipped through the ledger with practiced ease. "Ah, here you are. That'll be three small gold coins. I gave you a discount since you're Gerart's friend."
Charles handed over the money, barely keeping a smile on his face. Three small golds. More than half of what he had left. Hell, even half that sum was more than he'd ever held since escaping the Panther tribe. And now it was gone. Just like that.
"Thank you for your patronage," the madam said sweetly. "We look forward to seeing you again." She paused, then added, "Oh—and Gerart left a message. Said he met up with some buddies and went on a hunt. Won't be back for a month or so."
"Thank you. See you around," Charles replied, forcing a polite nod as he stepped out. That old bastard. He couldn't have told me last night? He still had questions for him…
His stomach growled in protest. "Hope there's still breakfast left at the inn."
Thankfully, Matilda had saved him a plate. He might've kissed her in gratitude—if not for Clovis glaring from behind her, like he wanted Charles gutted on the spot.
He wolfed it down and headed upstairs to clean up.
Back in his room, he counted coins: two small golds and some silver. Time to think.
He needed to join a guild. With his skillset, the Hunter or Mercenary Guilds made the most sense. The Hunter Guild promised faster returns—and besides, he'd already ticked off two mercs yesterday. Best to let that cool off.
He also wanted to visit the Mage Guild and test for magical aptitude—but that would cost money. For now, that dream would have to wait. And the library. Gerart's words had made it painfully clear: he didn't know nearly enough.
But first things first—join the guild.
---
The Hunter Guild was quiet just before noon. A few older hunters swapped stories, while the front desk half-orc, well-groomed in a green suit, looked over Charles with a bored expression.
"Welcome to the Hunter Guild. Got a request? Fill out the form. Can't write? I'll help," the man said in a monotone.
"No—I want to join the guild," Charles replied.
The half-orc nodded, rattling off instructions: "Two silver for membership. You'll get a token and a booklet on common prey. Everyone starts at Rank E. Complete jobs to earn points; 300 points gets you to Rank D. Got it?"
Charles filled out the form—name, address, weapons used—and paid the fee.
"Where's the job board?" he asked.
"That one by the entrance. Pick a job and bring it back here."
Charles scanned the board. Rank E jobs were sparse, but two caught his eye:
Wanted: 10 Sand Hare pelts. Reward: 1 small gold.
Seeking one fresh Naggoros corpse, under a week old. Reward varies by condition.
He brought both back to the desk.
"One week to deliver. Fail, and you owe five silver. Good luck," the half-orc said.
"Thanks. I'll need it," Charles muttered, stepping back into the heat. The city sun hit like a hammer, but knowledge was worth the sweat. If he wanted to survive the wilds, he had to know what he was up against.
---
Next stop: the library.
The building rose like a monument: white pillars, a high domed ceiling, and an air of solemn quiet. Few people wandered the aisles; most tables sat empty. Charles paid one silver for a full month of access and spent three straight hours reading. He devoured everything he could about sand hares and Naggoros: habitats, baiting techniques, methods to preserve corpses for sale.
When he stepped back into the afternoon sun, he felt sharper, muscles tense and mind racing—ready to test every trick he'd just learned.
Then came supplies. A trip to the general store emptied his coin pouch fast: a large backpack, blanket, rations, a water bottle… When it was over, he had just four silver coins left.
He sighed. This hunt had to succeed.
He ate dinner, then went up to tell Matilda not to hold his room—no sense paying for a bed he wouldn't sleep in.
Before dawn, he reached the city gates, where the guards lazily swung them open.
"Hell, here we go," he muttered. His destination was an oasis, two days into the Veil. The guild's booklet had no specifics, but in the library, he'd found a fifty-year-old hunter's journal—yellowed, brittle, but full of treasure. It mentioned an oasis teeming with wildlife: sand hares and the massive, snake-like Naggoros.
The march was grueling. Each step sank into scorching sand, the sun hammering his back, yellow dunes stretching endlessly.
But when the green finally appeared on the horizon, his heart soared.
He broke into a trot. Before long, he stood at the edge of a shimmering blue pond, ringed with tall grass and scattered trees.
"First things first," he muttered, tying the last strap on his pack. "Camp. I'll be here three days, after all."