7 She Means Business

Tycon warmed his hands with the clay mug. The tavern girl, Sorina, had filled it with a warm blackberry wine.

"So the sign outside of the inn… is a squirrel?" Tycon mused, "--with two oversized testicles."

Dragan, the giant-blooded man with flaming red hair, drained another flagon of ale. With a refreshed 'ahh,' he slammed it on the table, making a satisfying plonk sound, "Well, Wolfbanger said it was a chipmunk."

"A chipmunk then."

"This place's name is clearly 'The Big Ball Chipmunk Inn,'" Dragan nodded sagely.

Tycon squinted his eyes in response. Dragan was far too proud of himself for his theories... but the logic was sound. Big Ball Chipmunk Inn. 

It was late in the evening, so everyone had left the dining hall, save for Tycon, Dragan, Wroe, and Sorina. Barza had excused himself, exhausted after the day's events. As the man couldn't afford his own inn room, Tycon had bid him sleep in his-- with the caveat that he cleaned himself prior. Tycon doubted the man would be able to sleep after recent events but the man deserved some alone time to process it all.

Dragan had explained that he and Sorina had been getting along fairly well, conversing about life, recent events, and the dubious name of the inn. The chipmunk sign was the inn name's only indicator.

Tycon hadn't initially assumed Dragan to be a good conversationalist. but apparently that was incorrect. He refocused his attention on his wine, licking his lips to enjoy an improved sense of smell and taste from the subtle action. 

Sweet bark, tree sap, and a hint... of citrus? The taste was lovely.

Suddenly, Wroe's eyes lit up as if he had an epiphany. He tossed his light blue hair up and back out of his eyes and revealed a full, white-toothed smile. The male Daeva was annoyingly beautiful. 

Tycon happened to glance over at Sorina, who was clearly staring. Wine was dripping down her open mouth, dribbling down her chin.

"By the gods, Sorina, have some self-respect," Tycon said, snatching one of the girl's cleaning rags and dabbing it against her chin.

Wroe's smile fell upon Sorina's enraptured face. His deep, ocean blue eyes, full of innocence and the vigor of youth, filled Sorina's stomach with the feeling of tiny swirling fish. Tycon, either through his improved senses or powerful imagination, could hear the poor girl's heart rate quicken, threatening to pound through her chest.

"The Nutty Squirrel," Wroe proclaimed. He nodded to himself as if he had ascended far above the troubles of mortal men.

"Chipmunk," Dragan corrected. 

Tycon cleared his throat to gather the group's attention, "Let's put aside discussing the inn name and of squirrels with testicular cancer."

Dragan opened his mouth to argue, but Tycon cut him off, "Chipmunk. My apologies."

"...He said it was a chipmunk, Boss," Dragan muttered.

"Onto other topics. Dragan--"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"When I asked you who else was in our party, you said Tarquin, Lulu, and… Uh. What was it… Wolfbanger?"

Wroe quietly slurped his tea, a decidedly non-angelic way of drinking, "Mm. By the way Boss, I appreciate you finally calling me Wroe."

"I figured it would be confusing, because people call me Tycon," He quickly made an excuse. 

Dragan spoke simply, "But we call you Boss."

Tycon ignored Dragan's comment, "Where is Lulu?"

Sorina spoke up, flustered for whatever reason, "Lulu? She... She went into the forest."

Tycon narrowed his eyes, sensing her unease, "And what's wrong with the... forest?"

The tavern girl grimaced, "Sir Tycon, they say a demon lives in the forest."

Tycon leaned back in thought, readjusting his seating on the table bench.

"Mister Dragan. Mister Wroe. Should I be worried?"

The two gentlemen looked at each other before looking to Tycon, "Nah." "I doubt it."

"Well, there you have it, Miss Sorina. I'm sure Miss Lulu won't be troubled."

The girl placed a hand over her heart, breathing a sigh of relief, "Mm. Alright."

"And then I've met the horse." Tycon continued, "So that makes four, including myself. With Barza, Guild Invictus is at a solid five members."

Dragan tilted his head, "Boss, what about Wolfbanger?"

"I... don't know. What about him?"

"Aren't we counting him as part of the team?"

Tycon narrowed his eyes, "I thought the horse was Wolfbanger."

"No, Boss..." Wroe interjected, tilting his head, "That's Horse."

"Does Horse look like he bangs wolves?" Dragan met Tycon's gaze with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

Feeling an inordinate amount of pressure from Dragan's gaze, Tycon felt a great need to avert his eyes.

...Then a greater issue came to mind, "Mister Dragan, are you telling me that we call this person... Wolfbanger... because he 'bangs' wolves?"

"Boss?" Wroe's voice took on a worried tone.

"Not now, Mister Wroe." Tycon interrupted. A worrisome new mystery had presented himself.

The young barmaid raised her hand as if she were in a classroom lesson, "Can I join your group?"

"What?" Tycon furrowed his eyebrows in surprise at the woman's forwardness. "Why?"

"Well, Mister Barza's in your group." Sorina nodded.

Tycon's mouth twitched, "Have you... any skill at fighting? Miss Sorina?"

"I slapped a man last week for putting a hand on my butt," she declared proudly.

"How do you fare under pressure?"

"Sometimes, I have to work in the kitchen and the head chef yells at me the entire time."

"Do you have any special skills that would make you useful in a mercenary guild?"

"Well, Sir Tycon," Sorina blushed and twiddled her fingers, "I can read and write."

Both Dragan and Wroe 'ohhhh'ed in awe, as if seeing the young woman in a new light. "Boss, she can read. Let's keep her!" "A woman as skilled as she is beautiful!"

Tycon was momentarily stunned speechless but managed to maintain his composure. He hadn't realized that basic literacy was a lauded ability...

Still, he had yet to be convinced. 

"Miss Sorina, understand that I am the one in charge of Guild Invictus... The conditions we travel, the dangers of--

Tycon stopped, realizing the young woman was practically glowing with confidence.

He raised an eyebrow in amusement, "There's something you haven't told me."

Sorina smirked, scoffing defiantly, "Sir Tycon... I must inform you that I have... A Business Degree!"

Silence reigned in the dining hall. Dragan's broad, chiseled face turned solemn as he nodded to Tycon. Wroe held in a breath and his eyes glowed from blue to a heavenly gold as if he had glimpsed upon greatness.

Tycon nodded in awed acceptance, "It would be my greatest pleasure to welcome you to Guild Invictus, Miss Sorina."

"Thank you very much, Sir Tycon. I look forward to working with you all."

Tycon reintroduced Dragan and Wroe to Sorina, and the four shook hands. Tycon reassured Sorina that he'd formally introduce her to Horse, Lulu, and… Wolfbanger, when appropriate.

The evening wound down and Sorina agreed to let the manager know in the morning that she'd be submitting a letter of resignation in order to seek a life of adventure and glory. The three gentlemen bid her a good night and watched her leave the table.

"A nice girl," Dragan smiled as he drained his last flagon of ale.

"Agreed," Tycon mused. He drained the last of his wine.

"Boss?" Wroe gently prodded.

"Oh, Mister Wroe." Tycon smiled with chagrin, "I interrupted you earlier. For that, I apologize."

"Oh, no, it's cool, Boss. I was just worried about something."

Wroe looked to Tycon and Dragan, as if looking for something, "Where's Bucket?"

Tycon looked from Wroe to Dragan, seeing frowns of worry and confusion set into their faces.

He narrowed his eyes at Dragan, "Who is Bucket and why do I care?"

Dragan frowned, "Old Boss' kid? You told Quay you'd take care of him when you got guild leadership?"

He pointed hastily to Wroe, "And I thought he was WITH YOU!"

Wroe raised his hands in shock, looking to Tycon, "Boss, I thought he was with Dragan!"

« System… Inquiry… What age is Bucket? »

[System response: Bucket is approximately 9 years of age.]

Dragan pointed angrily, "You lost Bucket!"

Wroe pointed back, "You were the one who lost Bucket!"

Tycon stood up from the table, slamming his palms down, "WE collectively lost Bucket. Now get off your arses. We're going to find him, NOW!!"