It was far from full, as far as she could tell from where she sat.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, rising from her seat and making her way towards the notice board. It chiefly held a number of smaller requests and advertisements, from trade offers for goods and services to simple jobs, universally written in simple writing on vaguely rectangular scraps of paper. Among these scraps, there stood out three proper missives, meticulously calligraphed on parchment in writing so clean it may as well have been printed.

Of these three, two drew her attention.

The first, because it explicitly stated in big, blocky letters “BEAST-SLAYER WANTED” at the very top, directing whoever read it to speak with the owner of this very inn for further information. 

The second listing that stood out was an offer to rent numerous buildings in the town, each line stating a building’s address, condition, purpose, and weekly rent. One of these offers was a place named Riverside Remedies, described as an apothecary and with a rent nearly twice the other’s at fifty gelt. Zelsys made a mental note of this with the intention to let Makhus know.

However, something wasn’t right. She felt it in her gut. To absolutely no surprise of hers, a trio of men walked in through the front door, if the weight of their footfalls was anything to go by. One of them - who she assumed to be their leader - swaggered up to the notice board, whilst the two others walked up to the bar and began hollering for the barkeep. The two were lightly tanned and short-haired, wearing simplistic, practical clothing and bearing surplus war-knives much like Makhus’s. One had a mustache and a bandolier across his chest, three muzzle-loader pistols holstered in it.

The presumed leader of the trio gave Zelsys an unabashedly scrutinizing look, mouthing the word “Nice.” to himself as he turned his gaze towards the board. She continued to outwardly look at the board, while she focused her attention towards the periphery of her vision.

The young man was quite tall, though still more than a head shorter than her. His skin was lightly tan, he had short black hair, no visible facial hair, and a youthful, narrow face whose raw natural beauty was only matched by the insufferably arrogant look plastered across it. He wore well-tailored, immaculately clean clothing in the form of a simple dress shirt and trousers combination.

“You’re new in town,” the young man said to her in an offhand manner. “Beast-hunter?”

Zelsys gave a simple nod, considering just snatching the notice and taking it to the bar. She saw an insufferable smirk form on the young man’s face before he said, “You won’t get much work competing with us. Join my crew.”

The tone in which he said it was not a request or even a command, but rather a simple statement, as if the boy had full confidence that she would just go along with it. Even though she may have considered it under different circumstances, just the way he said that one sentence made her want to actively go against him out of sheer annoyance.

“No thanks,” she mockingly dismissed as she snatched the listing that said “BEAST-SLAYER WANTED” off the board, and spun on her heel with the intent of inquiring about it at the bar. She could feel his rising anger, and it brought her great satisfaction. When the resentful words “Stupid cunt.” resounded from behind her, it was as if sweet music to her ears. 

What wasn’t as though music to her ears, however, was the distinct sound of the boy’s companions rambunctiously making their order of two pitchers of ale, demanding, “Put it on Mr. Halxian’s tab!”

The barkeep nodded along with a rather noticeably fake smile, which soon faded to a more genuine one when he turned his gaze towards her, noticing the parchment in her hand. 

“Had you pegged for a beast-slayer!” remarked the four-and-a-half-fingered man, idly cleaning a mug as he began to explain the situation. “So about the contract… I don’t know what it is, I’m pretty sure neither do the folks payrolling this. It’s been scaring folks away from one of the nearby fields, destroying crops, killing what little livestock we have, what have you. The important detail is that every time it shows up the Fog rolls in, so we know it’s got an Azoth. Show it to me and you get your payout, two-hundred gelt plus hazard pay based on the gem’s grade.”

Zelsys raised an eyebrow, “You don’t want the Azoth?”

“I’m just a middleman,” twinkled the man. “They paid for extermination, not extermination plus resource-gathering.”

Mildly unpleasant background noise soon became the impossible to ignore gurgle-screeching of a raging rot-bear. The two thugs began loudly discussing which table to sit at, only for Halxian to take the opportunity to patch up his bruised ego by picking on what he thought to be easy targets. His victims of choice were three Ikesians that were sitting around a table out of the way, keeping to themselves and quietly drinking.

She turned her attention towards that table, fully wishing for either of the three to rebuke the young man and his cronies. The young man blustered at them, “Hey, you three, Ikes. Go find a different table.”

All three gave the young man a brief look, then returned to drinking. Makhus clenched his hand around his mug, eliciting a creak from the metal and laughter from Halxian. “You can’t intimidate me, snowman. I’m a Fog-breather. Unless you want me to re-enact the end of the war on you three, you’ll get up and vanish like your precious Sage of Fog. Understood?!”

The barkeep blinked a few times, visibly frustrated. “I’ll deal with it, just a moment,” he sighed, but Zelsys stopped him with a look and a shake of her head. 

She casually approached Halxian and his comrades from behind, and by some miracle, he didn’t notice - or perhaps, he chose to ignore her. What he couldn’t ignore was her bluntly stating, “How about you vanish instead?”

Instantaneously, the young man whipped around, staring defiantly up at her, his eyes filled with a cocktail of self-confidence and resentment.