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The sun was shining through the windows of the tavern, beating down on the mass of drunks strewn about on the floor. The men groaned when the light hit their eyes, trying desperately to hide their faces. Among these men was Askold. The large man grunted loudly, bringing up an arm to cover his eyes, in an attempt to protect himself from the sunlight. It failed miserably, and now the adventurer had a throbbing headache. What happened? The young man rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried to recall what happened. His head felt like he'd been punched by an ogre, only causing more stinging pain as he tried to think.

Reluctantly, the young man forced himself to sit up. His eyes were glossy and bloodshot, making it hard to discern any color other than red. But he could still see just fine. So he scanned the room a bit, catching sight of the patrons of this fine establishment from the other night. The front doors were off the hinges and one man lay out there, still unconscious. And the other were sprawled across the floor, tables, and the bar itself. Many of them were bruised, and dried blood clung to their skin and clothes. Ah, that's right! They were all playing a new game the other night while drinking. Man, that was fun.

So with great effort, Askold managed to start lifting himself from the ground. His hands tried desperately to find something to support himself. Tipped chairs, flipped tables, other drunkards trying to get up... Nothing was exempt from his clamoring about. It took a great deal of time for the young man to finally rise to his feet, with his right hand rested on a bar stool. He stopped moving for a moment, just trying to get his head to settle. That was one hell of a night. But why the pulsing headache? Did he get hit, or something?

The adventurer had almost managed to regain himself entirely, but some passed out man on the ground knocked the stool out from under him. The large, sobering tower of a man stumbled backwards, arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. He had been just barely managing not to step on anyone, but he did trip over the very last one he came across. Askold turned himself in midair, prepared to hit the ground again. Luckily for him, however, the bar was in reaching distance. He managed to grab onto it and pull himself up before hitting the ground.

But where did Armand go? He wasn't amongst the people on the ground, and his wagon wasn't outside. Did he leave him here? Well, nothing wrong with that, he supposed. After all, the scrawny merchant did say that he'd only bring him to this town, at least. Oh well. Best to just leave now, then, right? However, before he could leave, the young adventurer heard a loud slam behind him, followed by a series of hard stomps on the floor. "Hey! You're not just gonna walk away from this!"

The broad-shouldered young man turned around to find out who was yelling at him. It was a short man with red hair, though the spot on the top of his head was bald. Then again... Pretty much everyone was short compared to Askold as well. So the young man looked down to him, a legitimately confused look in his eyes. What did this man want? "D'you think I'm stupid?! I saw you break my door in that brawl, and you're not leavin' without payin' for it!" The man huffed and wheezed, his face red with anger.

He held out his hand, his eyes locked onto the young man's. However, as the young man carried on with his perplexed facial expression, still no less confused, a small bag of coins was set in the proprietor's extended hand. Both people looked over to see who had placed the coins down. And it just so happened to be the man who Askold thought had left. Armand had returned, and his wagon was full of supplies again. The merchant wore his wily smile, curling the end of his thick mustache, just like when they had met yesterday. Askold wondered why he did that, but it didn't really matter right now.

"Forgive Askold's behavior last night. He simply had too much to drink, and even then, he was still doing his job." Bethero the merchant kept his smile, his greenish blue eyes glancing between the two of them. Now, both the tavern's owner and the young adventurer were upset. They both tried to say something at the same time, but the merchant lifted up one hand and extended his pointer finger. He let out a few tsks, wagging his finger before continuing. "You see, sir... This young man is my bodyguard. I paid him to protect me. So when these... Ruffians acted up, he only did his job. I'll pay for the damages..."

Armand then turned his attention to Askold, and poked the adventurer's chest. "And it shall be deducted from your pay! Are we clear?" The young man didn't honestly know how to react. He simply nodded in his confusion, just deciding to go along with whatever the little man said. So Bethero turned his attention back to the tavern's owner, poking his chest this time. "And if you insist on holding me up, I'll have my mercenary hold you up, and hang you by your shirt on those antlers!" The merchant moved his hand upward, motioning toward the decorative antlers hanging on the wall above the bar. "Are we clear?!" The proprietor simply nodded as well, causing the scrawny man to smirk.

"Come now, Askold. We have goods to trade!" Armand said in a rather smug tone, turning around and signalling for the adventurer to follow. Askold simply complied, his feet carrying him forward and out of the tavern. Once they were outside, the merchant jumped up onto the wagon and took up the reins. The horses moved when he gave the order, and the young man simply followed along.

It didn't take the pair long to leave the town and take the road, heading further south. There was silence between the two of them for some time. An hour passed, and only the clacking of hooves against the frozen dirt road could be heard. Finally, Askold decided to speak up, his still slightly bloodshot eyes turning to look at the merchant. "Why'd you decide to keep me around? I just cost you money and everything, and I know how much you love your coin."

Bethero didn't turn his head to look at the young adventurer, instead, taking a glance from his peripherals. He let out a sigh and took one hand from the reins, rubbing his temples a bit before deciding to give any answer. "Because, it's clear that you're a worthwhile investment. With strength like that, I'd be stupid not to hire you to guard me and my wares. And with my smarts, we'll get quite the profit out of this arrangement. Now... What do you say to being business partners?" Armand said, turning his gaze to the boy and extending his hand.

At first, the young man was confused about this whole thing. But what the merchant said did clear things up a bit. So he smiled and gave a nod, reaching out to accept Armand's business offer. "Alright, then. We have a deal." Would this man technically be a friend now? It was something that Askold never had, and a concept that excited him. Until just a few days ago, he had never left home, not even to go to Brennen Village with his father for supplies. The farther they'd even left the property was on their hunting path, which wasn't too far away.

But ever since he had left home, in the six days he had begun his traveling... He had already made a friend, had fun playing those neat games at the tavern, found a new drink that made him feel good. And, his friend just so happened to be a travel buddy, too. Things were moving fast, and it made him rather excited, just thinking about what other things he would see out there. It was clear in his eyes. So many questions flooded his mind now, as the wanderlust took over.

Like if there were other kinds of monsters out there, and how they differed from the troll he killed. What kinds of treasures lay in store for an ambitious adventurer. One question that came to his mind, however, struck a peculiarly curious cord in his mind. Did dragons truly exist? And if they did, could they be killed? Could he kill one? Just the thought of being known as a man who killed a dragon got the young man excited. He would've probably ran off to try and find one, woodcutter's axe in hand, if he had not already agreed to travel with Armand.

So he simply sighed, turning his head back to look at the merchant again. "Hey, Armand. Where are we headed next?" He asked curiously, obviously still overly excited from when he let his thoughts wander. The young adventurer wanted to travel the world, to see everything, and fight all kinds of things. Would he have enough time in his life to see all the world had to offer? Askold really did hope so. It would suck if he died before he could kill a dragon.

Bethero the merchant didn't like the look in his young companion's eyes all that much to be honest, but it did make him smile a bit. He remembered wearing that very same expression when he began traveling. Though, he highly doubted they were for the same reasons. "Yes, actually. We'll be going to Durem. It's a city, barely ten years old now. But they have a mercenary guild there, so we can get you registered."

Now that was a bit of a confusing concept. "Why do I have to register to be a mercenary? Hell, what does registering even mean?" Askold brought up one of his large hands, scratching the back of his head in confusion. These were all new concepts to the young adventurer, so all of it really just went right over his head. Well, other than the mercenary thing. His father had hired a mercenary before, to kill some wolves in the area. But that was it.

The merchant just sighed a bit, shaking his head. "Because being a mercenary is a profession, much unlike being a thug. You need to have a license, as it were, to accept jobs and the like. If you don't have that license but do accept a job, you could be fined or arrested. And trust me, neither of us want that."

Bethero continued on about the dangers of doing these things illegally, and why it was best not to find a way to get into jail. It was all very interesting, really, but Askold couldn't help but yawn a bit. The merchant looked over at the young man and sighed, laughing a bit to himself. It'd take them a few days to get to Durem from where they were, but these were generally safe roads. So he didn't expect much trouble. And if they did run into any, well... That's why Askold was here. And soon enough, he'd be a full fledged mercenary...