"Still not paying," he said flatly, waving a hand as if to brush the thought away. "It's your treat."
This bastard…
Jake clenched his fist under the table, the urge to punch his so-called friend rising like a tide. But he exhaled, forced a thin smile, and let it go.
An attendant came over, a girl carrying a small wooden tray. "What will you gentlemen have?"
They ordered drinks and a few plates of food. Soon, mugs of frothing ale and steaming dishes filled their table.
The bar itself was warm and lively, hunters and townsfolk alike mingled here, laughing, shouting, and clinking mugs. The smell of roasted meat and spilled alcohol hung in the air, cozy and intoxicating.
Time passed, and mugs emptied one after another. By the time their heads grew heavy and their cheeks flushed, the banter began.
Jake leaned forward, smirking over the rim of his drink. "Tell me, bro… you're handsome enough to make half the girls on the street blush. So why don't you have a girlfriend yet? Hm? What's the excuse this time?"
Reynor took a lazy sip and shrugged. "Because I'm dirt broke. You can't get laid on an empty pouch."
"Ha! And what about you? Why don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Who do you think I am?" Jake slapped his chest proudly. "Unlike you, I get laid."
Reynor raised a brow. "Paying to get laid doesn't count."
Jake sputtered. "Tch, nonsense!"
Reynor leaned in, lowering his voice as though revealing a great secret. "I'm just warning you, fooling around too much can get you sick. Ever heard of an STD?"
Jake blinked, utterly clueless. "…What's an STD?"
"It's a disease you catch after fooling around," Reynor said solemnly, wagging his finger like a teacher scolding a student. "One day, your little brother might just fall off."
Jake stared at him, wide-eyed, then slammed his mug down. "Bah! Lies. You just made that up to scare me."
…
The night rolled on in waves of laughter and ale. Reynor and Jake's mugs clinked together again and again, their drunken banter mixing with the rowdy chorus of the bar.
But as Reynor leaned back against the wall beside their window, something caught his bleary eyes.
Outside, shadows rushed past, half a dozen figures, each strapped with swords and axes, running down the street with urgency.
Reynor squinted, voice slurring as he muttered, "Oi… are they… chasing somethin? Don't tell me… Beast got in the city…"
Jake took another gulp of his drink, unbothered.
"Must be another breach," he said casually. His tone carried no urgency, as if the sight of hunters chasing shadows was as common as rain.
For all the city's defenses, for all the walls and wards meant to keep them safe, it was never truly free of danger. The beasts had ways of slipping past.
Many disguised themselves, walking unnoticed among mortals. Some were little more than beasts, but the higher-ranked ones could take human form, with minds sharp and cunning as humans. To hunters, distinguishing them was a constant, deadly gamble.
Reynor's lips twisted into a drunken grin. "Scary world…"
The night continued. Eventually, the two staggered out of the bar and parted ways at the street corner, each wobbling in his own direction.
Reynor hummed as he went, voice breaking into half-songs and half-words. "Ooooh, the great hunter Reynor, golden finger of destiny… hic… protector of ladies…"
He laughed at his own nonsense, weaving unsteadily down the narrowing alleys where the lamplight faded.
Unlike the inns by the main road, this part of the city was hushed. Most shops had shuttered, doors locked tight.
A few taverns still glowed faintly, but as Reynor staggered deeper, silence settled. His place lay in the cramped backstreets, where rent was cheap, and the walls leaned like weary old men.
Noticing something, he stopped. At the corner, half-hidden by shadow, a figure sat slumped against the wall. It was a girl.
Even through his haze, Reynor blinked in surprise. Her hair spilled around her shoulders, catching the pale moonlight, and her face, though faintly pale, seemed to glow against the darkness. Beauty like hers didn't belong in alleys.
"Uh… hey," Reynor mumbled, swaying slightly. "You… okay there?"
Her head lifted slowly, eyes meeting his. Her voice was weak, almost fragile. "Could you… take me to your place? …I'm hungry."
Reynor's thoughts sloshed around like water in a cracked barrel. Normally, he'd never bring strangers into his den.
But something about her expression, the pitiful curve of her lips, made him nod without thinking. "My place's right there… just 'round the corner. Come on."
She rose shakily to her feet and followed. Reynor glanced at her, words tumbling from his mouth. "So… what're you doin'… in an alley like this?"
Her answer came soft and startling, "I was being chased. By hunters."
Reynor barked a drunk laugh. "Hah! This beauty's got jokes, eh? Hunters chasing you? Hilarious…"
He stumbled up to a worn two-story building, its wooden stairs creaking under his weight.
"This dump's mine," Reynor declared proudly. He pushed open the door to his upstairs room, nearly tripping over the threshold.
Inside, the space was cramped.
Reynor collapsed face-first onto his bedding with a sigh.
"Snack's… in the cabinet. Up there. Help y'self…" His arm waved vaguely toward the corner before flopping down limp. Within moments, his snores filled the room.