xenon
LimeTime966
Ashh
rabidbacon
Izurich
CloseEnough
Xaltwind
Rightful Heir
Teyao
BrokenPromiseMeanwhile, in Capitol City…
Fletcher Foley, a tall, muscular blonde man, was happy to be done with his day at work. Maintenance for the city wasn't the most stressful work, but it could be tedious. Of course, it was necessary for his other job, so he kept at it. And thankfully, being an informant for the Merchant's Guild paid a lot more than the government did. And speaking of money, today was payday, so the guy was on his way to his favorite drinking establishment to spend some of it.
The White Lotus certainly wasn't the fanciest place in town. However, it certainly wasn't a rough place either. It was plain, clean, almost nondescript with its wooden furniture and well-lit environment. Of course, that's how the Guild liked it. Why attract the high-and-mighty to where they might overhear something they shouldn't? Better for those pompous bureaucrats to waste their time and money in their own clubs or in the brothels they pretended to be above frequenting.
And so, Fletcher entered the place like he had done many times before. It was a slow afternoon before the night rush, so nobody was there besides the bartender.
“Vaellon!” the man yelled, a happy greeting for the elf behind the bar.
“Fletcher!”
The older creature with silver hair and black bags under his eyes was attentive towards his only customer. Then again, that wouldn’t have changed even if it was crowded; the government employee had been drinking there for over thirty years.
“What are you having?”
“Give me a-ah, damn it all.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I forgot, I promised the old ball-and-chain I wouldn't drink anymore.
“Ah, well at least let me give you something on the house then. Something that should help cheer you up.” And after mixing a few ingredients, Vaellon gave the man what would be called a Shirley Temple on Earth.
“Fuck you and your entire pointy-eared race,” Fletcher said, though his facial expression indicated that he actually found this all to be rather amusing.
The barkeep's expression indicated he shared that sentiment.“Well, look on the bright side. Now you can use your money to get rich!” The elf gestured to a newspaper article on the table about the Four Rivers Shipping Corporation, and both men laughed hysterically.
“Sure, and then what, the Witch Queen trips and falls down the stairs?” Neither of them wanted the evil caster to win, but it was common knowledge that the Empire had been gathering all of its forces around Fornost. Valheim and Rivers End, the two biggest cities served by the business, were basically sacrificial lambs due to the government's policy. If either city was attacked like the rumors said they would, most of South Central Mytheria would be laughably easy to conquer. The shares of the company were consequently a terrible investment, and both of them knew it.
But something caused Fletcher to pause a moment, deep in thought. Then he took out his coin purse and placed it on the table. “Actually, I'm going to do that right now.”
The bartender looked at him like he was expecting a joke; however, the informant was serious. “I know what you're thinking, V. This isn't about the money, it's about my quality of life.”
“...you're gonna have to run that one by me, Chief.” Extremely confused, the elf waited for clarification on whatever this was.
Now excited by his idea, Fletcher went on. “See, when I go drinking, I only spend a little each night. Now if I go back home with no money at all after payday, the wife will have to let me drink again!”
Fletcher Foley, a tall, muscular blonde man, was happy to be done with his day at work. Maintenance for the city wasn't the most stressful work, but it could be tedious. Of course, it was necessary for his other job, so he kept at it. And thankfully, being an informant for the Merchant's Guild paid a lot more than the government did. And speaking of money, today was payday, so the guy was on his way to his favorite drinking establishment to spend some of it.
The White Lotus certainly wasn't the fanciest place in town. However, it certainly wasn't a rough place either. It was plain, clean, almost nondescript with its wooden furniture and well-lit environment. Of course, that's how the Guild liked it. Why attract the high-and-mighty to where they might overhear something they shouldn't? Better for those pompous bureaucrats to waste their time and money in their own clubs or in the brothels they pretended to be above frequenting.
And so, Fletcher entered the place like he had done many times before. It was a slow afternoon before the night rush, so nobody was there besides the bartender.
“Vaellon!” the man yelled, a happy greeting for the elf behind the bar.
“Fletcher!”
The older creature with silver hair and black bags under his eyes was attentive towards his only customer. Then again, that wouldn’t have changed even if it was crowded; the government employee had been drinking there for over thirty years.
“What are you having?”
“Give me a-ah, damn it all.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I forgot, I promised the old ball-and-chain I wouldn't drink anymore.
“Ah, well at least let me give you something on the house then. Something that should help cheer you up.” And after mixing a few ingredients, Vaellon gave the man what would be called a Shirley Temple on Earth.
“Fuck you and your entire pointy-eared race,” Fletcher said, though his facial expression indicated that he actually found this all to be rather amusing.
The barkeep's expression indicated he shared that sentiment.“Well, look on the bright side. Now you can use your money to get rich!” The elf gestured to a newspaper article on the table about the Four Rivers Shipping Corporation, and both men laughed hysterically.
“Sure, and then what, the Witch Queen trips and falls down the stairs?” Neither of them wanted the evil caster to win, but it was common knowledge that the Empire had been gathering all of its forces around Fornost. Valheim and Rivers End, the two biggest cities served by the business, were basically sacrificial lambs due to the government's policy. If either city was attacked like the rumors said they would, most of South Central Mytheria would be laughably easy to conquer. The shares of the company were consequently a terrible investment, and both of them knew it.
But something caused Fletcher to pause a moment, deep in thought. Then he took out his coin purse and placed it on the table. “Actually, I'm going to do that right now.”
The bartender looked at him like he was expecting a joke; however, the informant was serious. “I know what you're thinking, V. This isn't about the money, it's about my quality of life.”
“...you're gonna have to run that one by me, Chief.” Extremely confused, the elf waited for clarification on whatever this was.
Now excited by his idea, Fletcher went on. “See, when I go drinking, I only spend a little each night. Now if I go back home with no money at all after payday, the wife will have to let me drink again!”