Arladerus yawned while stretching. The first time he had rested on a bed and pillow in about a week. He wanted to lie down and sleep until the end of time, but he knew he had more important things to do. He climbed down the stairs with a robe and boots and asked about the rumours of the city. “Do you know anythi-“
“Ah, before I let you go off, let me just tell you. I lied last night. There’s another tavern in this city, and they are damn busy. I just said that so you would pay me 50 Gold, and you did,” he said with a smirk. “Just follow the path you took to get ‘ere, and you’ll eventually come across more people, and a busier, larger tavern. Aye, good day.” And he left. The bartender knew what kind of people to scam; Arladerus was going to become a Divine Crusader, and evil thoughts, such as unsheathing his sword and slicing through the middle of the man were obviously out of the question. …
Right?
He would leave without giving the owner a little scare, at least though. He ran up the stairs, wore his greaves over his boots, strapped on his leggings, breastplate, wore his full-face helmet and pulled out his sword. He then threw all his belongings into a bag he had and trampled down the stairs, barged through the door the owner walked through to enjoy his 50 Gold, ran up to him, touching the old man’s face with the cold metal of the helmet. Just to see the look on his face.
He left the rotten building and stepped out to the familiar dusty dirty trail. He turned right, and walked towards the castle, which he assumed was the metropolitan area of the city. Arladerus took out a note that explained the details of his mission. He read the first line. “A horse will be delivered for you and will be available for pick-up. Directions: After reaching the tavern of the East Gate, continue down the path, and to your left, it will be at the end of the third street.”
As Aralderus counted the streets, he was annoyed that they had not allowed him to use his horse to journey to the city. Walking there was supposedly part of the mission and triumph. He reached the stables and examined it. The stables had five stalls; the second was empty, and the fifth contained a beautiful, healthy white horse. He recognized the stallion; everyday at the Priory of the Nine, he would walk by the stables and see that particular horse, roaming the fields and eating grass.
“Ah, I see you take interest in that white stallion. A fine bred, I must say. The years of care I put into making her into what she is now… since I have been so attached to this horse, I would have to charge you 200 gold for her.” Arladerus obviously knew that this man was trying to rip him off. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… shame on me, he thought. He then reached into his bag, pulled out a tube-shaped container, and took out a scroll, which contained the mission briefing.
“That’s my horse,” he said. “I know you’re lying, and I don’t like it. But I won’t harm you, as long as you give me my horse.” The stable owner was stunned; he unlocked the gate without saying another word. Arladerus hopped onto the horse, and rode out of the stall. Of course, he was still grateful. Out of habit, he reached into his pocket and gave the man 5 gold coins.