Wanted: Escort

by Shannon Kostyal

“Wanted. In search of escort. Must be familiar with Delmarka Forest. Melee skills a plus. Inquire within.”

Jax studied the billboard outside the tavern. It was littered with wanted ads—everything from bar maid to stablehand. But it was the advert for an escort that kept drawing his gaze back. The juvenile corner of his soul snickered with amusement at the wording, but it didn’t prevent him from casting a speculative look at the tavern entrance. Absently, his hand shifted to the pommel of his sword.

His last adventuring party had come to an unfortunate end. Through no fault of his. He hadn’t even been there. The poor sods had brought a temp on board to fill the hole left in his absence rather than wait for him. They weren’t dead, of course. He’d have been at least a little choked up if that had been the outcome. No. Not dead.

But they had disbanded. Jorg, a giant mountain of a man, had retired to a life of farming. Get him drunk enough and he’d rant about rust monsters and wasted money. Lorne… Well, Lorne probably returned to his dubious earlier career of highway robbery. Jax wasn’t certain, because Lorne refused to talk to any of the former party members without payment for his time. He always had been an opportunist. Korath hired out to a mining company. His explosive style of wizardry apparently made a more efficient way of digging out tunnels in solid rock. Talia returned to her temple. She was probably the least bitter of the crew.

Jax had no desire to retire from adventuring, but it had left him in a bit of a pickle. Solo adventuring almost always ended in death, and he rather enjoyed living. For the past month he’d tavern hopped between villages, listening for news, and more importantly, for work. 

Today looked like it was his lucky day. Decision settled, he strode past the billboard and into the darkness of the tavern, his gaze sharply alert. It wouldn’t be the first time a tavern had lured adventurers in with the promise of work only to pressgang them into city guard service.

The inside of the building was comfortably cool and well ventilated. Windows strategically dotted along the outward facing walls, providing dust speckled streams of light. He could pick out the locals almost immediately by their clothing. Mostly farmers enjoying a late afternoon meal and a game of dice. In the left corner three guards huddled around a table. One of them cast him a speculative look. Jax tensed, but none of the guards made any move to get up. 

He was pretty sure the group gathered at the bar were adventurers. Like flocked with like, and usually the only time a person saw a hodge-podge like this in one location was at family funerals or at prison hangings. He studied the group; a half-elf archer, a shifty faced human, a stylish bald man with a curious metal fist-topped rod, and a pretty robe-bedecked girl. If he knew his adventurers, he would bet his chainmail that the half-elf was a ranger. The scrawny man was probably another Lorne—questionable career choice, but admittedly needed skills in the right circumstances. The bald man, from the look of his expensive clothes and mysterious rod, was probably a magic user of some sort. The girl—now there he paused. 

She looked too nervous to be a cleric. They seemed to exude a natural calm even under the most trying of situations. Druid? He tested the word out in his head, but just as quickly discarded it. She didn’t have the wildness about her to match. Maybe it was a family funeral.

Squaring his shoulders, he strode forward, his long legs eating the distance between door and bar. The group paused in their discussion with the barkeep, and suddenly he was the focus of five pairs of eyes.

Clearing his throat, he focused on the barkeep.

“I saw the ad outside.”

The barkeep, a short, squirrelly old man, barked out a laugh. “You come to be the new bar maid, lad?”

Jax blinked, opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it. He could see the teasing humor in the old man’s eyes. The scrawny man in the group attempted and failed to suppress a chuckle.

“If it’s a picnic in Delmarka Forest you’re looking to hire servers for.” His voice was even, and Jax had to congratulate himself on his quick response.

The barkeep grinned broadly and waved him closer. 

“Good… good. Come young man, let’s have your name and a bit about yourself.” 

Jax glanced to the others in the group. The half-elf looked mildly disgusted, but the others studied him speculatively. Even the girl in the robes. He wasn’t certain why her attention seemed to disarm him, but it did. Clearing his throat again, he returned his focus on the barkeep.

“Name’s Jax. Trained in warfare from a young age. Da’ was a city general in Lrathlon. I’d been appointed captain of the city guard just two months before the cataclysm.” His tone was even and curiously flat. For the level of the emotion infused, he might as well have been reading from a recipe book. 

The barkeep nodded in understanding. Folks didn’t talk much about the cataclysm that took out Lrathlon. Not in public, where prying ears could hear. The kingdom had lost some of their best from all areas of specialty. The general had been well-regarded—a rarity for city guard of any flavor.

Jax shifted, his hand dropping unconsciously to stroke over the pommel of this sword.

“I took to adventuring after that. Last party disbanded while I was away. Rust monster took them out and left them bankrupt.”

Snickers of laughter erupted from the skinny fellow, and he noticed a look of deep amusement sparking in the barkeep’s eyes. Eyes narrowing, Jax studied the pair. Something was amiss, but he’d puzzle that out later.

The barkeep’s expression shifted, and the humor slid back into the hidden depths of his eyes.

“Well, Jax. If you’re that man’s son, and share even a tenth of his traits, I suspect you’ll fit the bill well enough. Let me introduce you, as I’ve taken a special interest in this adventuring party.”

Jax’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Barkeeps often worked as messengers. Almost like a temp agency, but rarely did one actively express interest in a specific party. They had a sponsor. Fascinating.

“I’m Moki, esteemed owner of this establishment.” The barkeep thumped himself on the chest to emphasize the introduction, and then continued on, gesturing to the group. 

“The scamp there with the uncontrollable case of giggles is a long time associate of mine, Balyron. The follicly challenged gentleman is Nightengale. Our pointy eared friend is Asanos, and the young lady is Leyla.”

Jax paired names with faces as he studied each of the party members. A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth as he looked back at Moki.

“So what’s our first mission?” The question was confidant, as if he had no doubt of his acceptance into the party.

Moki’s eyes crinkled with humor and he shared a conspiratorial look with Balyron before looking back at Jax.

“Wyvern infestation. Nasty little buggers. I recommend you lot supply up, sleep here tonight, and get an early start in the morning.”