Two hours was all he needed, Harken woke fresh and alert, heading down to the common room on the second floor of the little four story guildhall. The roaring fire was going strong and the room was warm, cozy and lively, the perfect place to unbridle one’s soul.

He dropped into a seat with the fire to his back, letting Sparrow out to sit amongst the roaring flames.

Always smart a day after you murder two people to watch your back.

The guild desk was already active, six people waiting in cue for the one lonely Lambkin girl who was managing the desk. Her glasses balanced on her little nose as she sternly addressed the haberdasher in front of her. Her modest high neck in contrast for the other two girls who worked the dining room.

Those two Lambkin danced about the room, waiting on tables, and cleaning as they went wearing gorgeous skirts that didnt ebmven go all the way to their hoves. One of them, the eldest he assumed from how she ordered the other around, even had a contract of her own. It inhabited a mop, walking around on its cotton legs, cleaning the floor on its own.

As it passed by him he nodded to it.

“Could you bring your mistress? I hate to rush, but I truly am in a hurry to leave, but I would love to eat first, please.”

It bobbed in a semblance of a nod, flipped up onto its end, the mop head twisting up into a spear point and zoomed between the tables to the taller of the three women, the one behind the counter instead of the one giving the orders.

She grabbed the handle and tilted her head as if listening to the room. Then she called over the one giving orders and handed the high collar coat to her.

Harken gave a little gulp, the way she eyed him made him feel hunted, especially brandishing that spear.

So it was no mere, lesser or even mundane contract like his own two? That was a Greater contract, maybe even a Lord, he felt a shiver, he was glad he had been polite and not simply demanded it get its mistress. No one wanted an angry contract, but a Greater or Lord could command lesser contracts.

“Good mornan sar,” the pretty woman murmured as she approached, “Great te see ye back.”

Harken nodded, “Hello, yes, just passing through again,” he had forgotten he had been this way months back with Margareet and the rest of his former party. “Could I get a good breakfast, and meals for two days as well? Bread and if you have it, some dried meat. The woods east of us here are not game rich.”

“Oh, ave course sar, how fass ar ya leavin?”

She seemed overly interested, but as she got close he realized why. Sidling up to his side, her free hand coming to rest on his knee.

“I have to see a man about a unicorn,” he stammered, “B-but after that I’d like to leave, so, uh, mid day.”

He smiled up at her sweetly, no harm in a bit of a flirt, he remembered how he had been shot down last time with this woman, he was suprized he had forgotten her, but than, lambkin beastfolk looked alot alike. It was her horns that reminded him, and the way her glasses rested on her nose.

Lambkin were known beauties, strong but usually meek, they were also a hearty race, with humanoid upper bodies and the lower half of dire sheep. Their bodies curvaceous; and this fine woman no exception; and they grew the wool used throughout most of Fluv in regular textiles.

That explained why these women didn’t have collars in these parts. Most beastmen were seen as labourers, but this woman and her kin here were clearly ex-adventurers settled down.

But it wasn’t just textiles that made the Lambkin so popular.

“Can I intrist ye into some fresh as dawn milk ta,” she purred leaning in on his bartop table so her heavy chest practically spilled out of her barmaids blouse.

“Really?, If I remember right, you didn’t fancy elphine?”

She shrugged, an act that made her ample chest bounce about like a pair of happy white slimes.

“I don see na hume hussy hanging on ya this time givin me dem fightin eyes.”

Even a beastmen, her body covered in a fine as silk wooly coat, was more than worth a delay.

“I really should be off to see the ferrier,” he grumbled reluctantly.

She gave him a pouty look, “Really? Buh he won be open till eleven bells?”

He noted that the eighth bell had only just rung when he rose.

“How fresh are we talking?”

  ~~~  

Moon had been waiting all night for Harken to return to the guild, but when he had finally stumbled in reeking of booze soot and blood he had let his boss pass unmolested. One of the others in the stables, a naggy old mule started to laugh, cracking wise about how hard it was to find a lone elf in these parts that didn’t smell like that. But he had had to move on though, after Moon had kicked him in the teeth.

Harken was a good man, mostly.

Moon was reminded of the elphine man’s profession at that moment as the weight of Margareet’s body rested on his back, but Moon trusted Harken regardless.

He wandered over to the window looking out into the road, it was still early so the town was still pretty quiet. This town was a dive, it didn’t come alive till mid-day.

And here came Harken now, walking past him with a not so subtle wink his way. A lovely lambkin girl leading him to the Guild Chief’s residence around back on the ground floor behind the stables.

Moon sighed, giving Harken a nod back.

Moon missed his bits, a unicorn without his lower horn was only half a unicorn.

Harken wasn’t cruel though, Moon knew that wink.

It meant that at their next stop he’d get a treat.

Moon thought for a second, if he played his cards right and took the lead, then they’d end up in Caloon by tomorrow night, or the next morning at the worst. Caloon meant~

“Harken!”

Harken stopped for a second, turning to him.

“Get you Caloon for ten silver?”

Harken turned to him, their code meant ten times that, which meant his choice at Caloon’s famous Lovenest cafe or a high price of ten gold in his saddlebag.

“Are you mad?” He looked at the barmaid, then back to Moon, “Five.”

He looked at him flatly, Moon didn’t haggle, and Harken knew it.

“Awe, come on?”

Moon didn’t haggle.

“Fine! But be ready to haul all my gear you old coot.”

“That’ll be a haste fee.”

Harken didn’t retort to that, just cupped the lovely lass on the ass and bustled her into the little cottage.

Harken was a good man.

Moon chuckled, though the laughter he felt was cut off when the quiet air of the early morning was broken by the ruckus sound of love making. He grimaced and looked around, he couldn’t leave the stables, not laden with Margareet as he was, but the walls between him and them were painfully thin.

Moon didn’t haggle, but he sure did miss his bits.

  ~~~  

Harken laid back, well rested no more, his body covered in sweat and smelling of his partners perfume, bright lemon, and a hint of vinegar l, that was oddly enough appealing.

“I didn’t catch your name?”

“Oh, we dun nee tha, just call me, Bae, when you pass through, an we great.”

“No, I insist. I’m not one to wed, but I’m not one to run from a ladies bed either.”

“Well, thas great,” she stood up and stretched, picking up her glasses from the nightstand putting them on. “Because ye could ne run fast enough sweetlin. Walking naked as the sun across the room to the door, her woolen curves drawing his lingering gaze, she stopped. “Ma sis laid out yer breakfast,” she peeked out the door and stooped down, her little tail flicking about as she bent at the waist making his loins stir again to see her fine round backside on display.

“Would that I had the time to stay longer,” he growled playfully.

She stood up with a click of her tongue, “Naty naty boy, nuun oh tha now.” She returned to his side and stretched out with him, sharing his breakfast, goldenboar bacon and scrambled cocatrice eggs cooked and folded into finger food wraps.

“Devine,” he whispered, as she proffered her fingertips for him to lick the delectable grease from.

But as with all good things in life~

The clock tower bell rang out, ten bells.

He teased her breast playfully, “Time enough for~”

“Oh no,” She scooped blankets around her defensively, giggling as he attempted to get around them. “Ye best be wash’n off swee elphin, ma sis’ll be in a right fit if’n I don get baaah. So, don ye be in me room when I ge baaah.” She got up, collecting her dress and dressing slowly so he could savour the image. Then grabbed up his plate and mug from his milk.

“If I don’t see you; before I leave that is. This was fun.”

“I’ll find ye when I nee ta, hunter Harken,” she giggled, and left, leaving him to dress and leave her rooms.

Hunter, not Killer, the distinction was so finite, would she have felt the same to sharing her sheets with him, had she known his other side? He hopefully would never know.

Warm memories on the road always came in handy on long journeys.

  ~~~  

Sparrow sat amongst the coals for a good long time. pecking at the wood in meager half hearted attempts to set fire to the building. Careful of course not to catch the eye of Humboldt the Wick, the greater contract who’s caster seemed to be the master heragaMinding his own he was content, that was till Harken left him behind.

He could have gone and returned back to his wand, but he was cozy here, nestled warm and happy in the flames.

And as Harken left, he took Humboldt’s caster too.

Sparrow chirped happily, he did hope his caster was not off to do some fighting, but if he was, he would be left wanting.

Two men who had been watching Harken from their corner seat stood up, crossing the hall, about to leave. But they were the ones Sparrow had been tasked to watch. It was not his forte, but a cindery bit of wood in beak he leapt across the room after them.

They hadn’t even made it to the door when he dropped the bit into the one man’s hood.

They didn’t see him, no one saw an elemental unless that elemental deemed it. So either saw was a glowing ember before he dropped it on them.

Sparrow retreated up into the rafters laughing musically to himself as the one man’s cloak caught flame, and the second sought a means to put it out, and decided in stupidity that the nearest cup on the bar may help.

The boom was highly appealing.

“Was that funny to you?”

Humboldt had snuck up on him.

Sparrow nodded.

“We’re they bad people?”

Sparrow didn’t know for sure, but they had definitely been after his caster.

“Ah, I see,” Humboldt’s many arms gripped the ceiling with little sucker’s, waddling away through the rafters cleaning the cobwebs as he went. “Behave yourself.”

Sparrow made no such promise.