The state of the bar reminded Glenn why he preferred to work their cover operation in the daytime. All seven circular tables were filled. The room buzzed and murmured with townspeople gossiping about the latest rumors or sharing the mundanity of their day to day lives.

            Usually he’d work the day, then spend the evening taking care of expedition requirements, but tonight was particularly busy. Mostly because the town’s greatest source of wealth, Esthel Academy, would be reopening tomorrow for the fall school year.

            Glenn looked forward to it. Life followed a dull routine in the past sixty days of summer, and tomorrow would bring a return to his school-schedule. Running a tea and cakeshop. Talking with students, and giving them fetch errands under the guise of community service. The reason he gave was to procure materials for Galvin’s beer recipes. Which was true to a small extent. Most of the goods went to their research team.

            It was a simple ruse which masked suspicion, and had worked well for the past year with a few months in change.

            He stood behind the bar, pressing down a lever and filling a wooden mug with a light-brown liquid which barely constituted as beer. One of Galvin’s lighter recipes, and the most popular among the locals, though it was the equivalent of cheap canned beer back home. Something you flicked off the local corner store for a credit or two.

Not that he could fault the locals for poor taste. Beer development appeared to have been stunted in this world. Among many other things.

Besides, Glenn couldn’t care any less. He didn’t drink, outside of a few special occasions.

He let the foam burble up half-way up the mug. Something which would have gotten him a complaint in any modern bar, but another thing the locals fancied. As the bubbles reached the tip, he cut off the flow just as the floor rumbled as a metal fist clamped onto a wood. 

Glenn jerked his head up to see a group of men wearing bulky armored suits and golden capes sitting cheer around a table. Then all of them chugged their mugs at once. His neural implants detected his change in mood, bringing up blue screens and pointers in his vision around the men.

[Academy Guard. Category 1 Threat.]

Glenn relaxed, letting the blue boxes dissipate in turn. The academy guards. He’d done a full combat analysis on them a year ago, concluding they were more ceremonial than functional. Or in plain terms, a lot more bark than bite.

            “Order up for Table 3!” said Glenn, dinging a bell hanging from the wall.

            A fellow expedition member jerked around from the table he had been socializing at. He stood as tall as himself, though skinny and with the complexion of a ghost compared to Glenn’s broader bulk and tanned skin. A combination which got the man no short supply of joking jibes from others on the team, but plenty of compliments here. Apparently, it was a desirable feature. That, in conjunction with a face balanced with jagged masculinity and round welcomes, earned him no small amount of attention from the local ladies.

            Gale scratched the top of his brown hair, winking and waving at the women sitting in the table as he stepped away, resulting in a few dreamy waves and wistful sighs back. Glenn recognized several members of the group. The daughter of the town’s only general store and several seamstresses and printers. All of them were young, and looked not at all half-bad by his standards. Probably eye-catching with a touch of modern make-up. Wealthy too, if you considered they had no short supply of customers through the school.

            Gale swerved around the tables, avoiding hitting the customers as he reached the bar and picked up the tray of fresh beer mugs.

            “Sorry!” said Gale. “Got a little too into the conversation. You know.”

            In codeword, gathering intelligence on local customs.

            “No worries.” Glenn raised an eyebrow and smirked. “It’s part of the job, but work aside… you sure your girl is going to appreciate you reaching into other cookie jars?”

            “She isn’t my girl.” Gale rolled his eyes. “We’re just close, that’s all. She’s my type but there is nothing serious about it.”

            “Mhm…” said Glenn. “Just be careful. Remember where we are and our circumstances.”

            “You betcha.” Gale did his best boyish smile, which caused Glenn to roll his eyes. “And besides, she knows it can’t pan out. Her being high-borne and me being me. Besides that, there is nothing wrong with shopping around, even if you don’t plan on buying right?”

             “Careful with your choice of words.” Glenn glanced about, but all their patrons seemed to be too enamored with their own conversations to bother with them. “That last part isn’t exactly a local lingo.”

            “You just used three in the past minute.” Gale picked up the tray. “Four if you count local lingo.”

            “Fair enough,” said Glenn. “Take care out there.”

            “Roger that!”

            Glenn shook his head as Gale trotted off to Table 7, consisting solely of men and women from the town-watch. As far away possible from Table 1, where the academy guard muscle-heads were seated. An intentional arrangement on his part, as he was well aware of the two groups feelings for the other.

            He kept an eye on both of them, not that it was hard to do so. Both stood out pretty clearly from among the tavern denizens. Shining armor and golden capes for the guards. A simple sleek brown uniform for the watch. The watch was about as threatening as the guards, but knew their limits and acted accordingly. A sense of humble professionalism which Glenn found endearing.

Most of the other tables consisted of male farmhands. Steady and reliable customers. One would think they’d cause trouble but despite the heavy drinking, they behaved themselves well. They had built a strong relationship with the crews in the past year, mostly through Galvin’s beer and Glenn’s baked goods. Hard-workers too, but for menial rewards. Glenn sympathized with them. A man who made the best out of their lot in life, was someone worthy of respect.

Glenn even tried to help a few get better acquainted with the local women, though that exceeded his mission dictates. After all, this wasn’t his people, nor his country, and most certainly wasn’t his world.

Table six stood as an exception to their usual crowd, cloistered in the far corner of the room. Seated around it were instructors from the academy, four from the usual set of five. A male history teacher with long hair wearing something resembling a shrine-priest robe. Next to him was the male math teacher, puffing away happily at a pipe. Across from them was the military tactics teacher, who Glenn was pretty sure was also an officer in the Imperial military based on his demeanor and outfit, and beside him was Instructor Valera.

Who immediately caught Glenn’s glance and quirked a smile. She brushed aside a lock of red hair, then waved at him, which caused all the other instructors to look in his direction in turn.

Glenn flatlined his lips, displeased to have been caught, then forced himself to smile and wave back before looking away.

Out of all the instructors in the academy he was familiar with her the most. After all, none of the others showed up to the bar during school-days to imbibe in beer before afternoon classes.

How and why she got away with that was beyond him. Especially at the most elite finishing school for the young in the world. Just one of many things about her that befuddled him, like how she managed to maintain a figure like hers while guzzling beer like a fountain. She looked well, but he had a hard time finding her attractive after knowing her alcoholic tendencies. Maybe his standards had dropped a little too hard. It wasn’t like there was much to ogle at out here anyways.

A grunt came from the opposite end of the bar. Glenn turned to see a guardsman slouch onto the counter, sitting apart from his fellows.

“I don’t get it.” The guardsman’s head rose just enough to take another glug of beer. “I don’t get it.”

“Relax Jeri,” said an old man opposite him standing on Glenn’s side of the bar. He wore a stained brown apron, his name embroidered onto it by a seamstress a few months back. A scraggly beard and equally scraggly hair draped from his head in a salt-pepper color.

Galvin, his boss and the expedition team lead, pat a hand on the guardsman’s shoulder while sliding him another mug of beer.

“I’m sure she has her reasons,” Galvin slid him another mug of beer. “Any women worth going after always do. But at least you said it. Most men never get past that. There is a saying where I grew up along the coasts. Plenty of fish in the sea, but you won’t know that till you actually fish.”

“Plenty of f-fish in the sea.” The guardsman peeked up. “Ha-Hah. Good one, haven’t heard that before.”

Glenn already knew what had happened. Jericho had been running his mouth off for a month about the academy’s latest instructor, Lucille Avalade, of the same high house of Avalade. One of the most prestigious families in the Imperium, with a history stretching to the country’s founding after the C’thraxi Cataclysm.

Young and dubbed the blue valkyrie for a series of accomplishments he couldn’t recall. All of these factors made Glenn pretty certain of the result of Jericho’s attempts to woo her, which had now been confirmed. Luckily, she hadn’t been among the group of instructors, which would have made a few things awkward. Not that he expected to hear from her soon. From everything he heard, she leaned heavily to being prim and proper. Or in simpler terms, she was a stuck-up bitch.

Galvin caught his glance, giving him a thumbs up to indicate everything was in control.

Glenn nodded then went back to minding the bar. For the purposes of the cover operation, they had the tasks broken up to meet their core competencies. Gale being social butterfly with the groups. Galvin providing one-on-one heart to heart conversations. And Glenn…

He caught an academy guard slip by table one on his way back from the latrine, reaching down to smack the butt of a watchwomen.

The response was immediate. A watchman stood up to block the guard’s path. The rest of the table doing the same. Glenn immediately stepped around the bar and forward to defuse the situation.

“What did you do that for!?” said the watchman

“Nothing wrong as far as I see.” The guardsman smirked, as the other guardsman stood up and walked over to the confrontation. “Lady seemed like she wanted a nice strong hand for a change.”

“Why you!”

“Gentlemen.” Glenn stepped between them. “Let’s not get into a tussle here.”

“Not until that bastard apologizes!” the watchman glared.

“Nothing to apologize for.” the guardsman winked at the woman. “Right honey?”

The woman snarled.

Time slowed as his implants detected the escalating tension. The watchman stepped forward in the beginning of a lunge. The guardsman drew his arm back for a punch. He could see the angles and lines of attacks and all the points he could lever to disable both men before they could finish their strikes.

Glenn very well could have. Unfortunately, they had to keep a low profile, and a display of combat prowess from a simple bartender would draw suspicion.

So he dashed between the men, bracing himself as the watchman collided into his chest, and the guard’s fist smacked into his side. Pain bloomed.

[Hardened Body (Terra CL 2) Activated]
[Healing Stream (Aqua CL 2) Activated]

[Spirit Capacity: 35,450/36,000]
[Active Imprints: Energy Masking (Shadow CL. 3). Hardened Body (Terra CL. 2). Healing Stream (Aqua CL. 2)]

The imprints dulled the blows, but he followed the force of the impacts and crumpled to the floor.

“Now what is going on here?”

Glenn turned, feigning a wince as he saw a pair of brown boots in his vision. He looked up to see Valera. Displeasure marred across her face, arms crossed, and the air around her fizzling as she released her mana reserves.

[Warning: Category 3 Entity Detected]

Glenn blinked away the notification as both the guardsman and watchman, along with their respective groups backed away. Rightfully so. Valera was what they called a tri-mage, and could probably take on both groups without breaking a sweat.

Silence descended upon the bar, followed by the arrival of two more figures. Galvin with a concerned look, and Jeri, who had discarded his moping act and returned to being Guard Captain Jericho.

Glenn nodded to Galvin, letting him know everything was okay.

“Alright boy.” Jericho grabbed the offending guardsman by his shoulder. “I know you are new, but I think you may need a reinforcement in manners.”

He pulled and shoved him forward to the bar.

“All of you,” said Jericho. “Back to quarters. Now.”

The bar erupted in the clatter of boots as every guardsman shuffled out the double-doors without a word.

“Sorry about that.” Jericho sighed. “And my apologies to the town watch. I shall endeavor to enforce some discipline on the lad.”

“Just keep him away from us.” The watchman scowled. “This isn’t the first time one of your men tried something.”

The entire group of watchmen brushed past them and out the bar. Poor for business but at least they wouldn’t have to worry about any more altercations for tonight. At least in here.

“It’s all good Jeri,” said Galvin. “Perfectly understandable. No feelings hurt on our part.”

Jericho bowed then departed.

“You okay there?”

Valera offered a hand towards Glenn.

“I’m fine.” Glenn pushed himself up without relying on her help. Which he realized was a mistake after the fact. You didn’t turn down an invitation for help from a magus, especially not in the role he played as a lowly freeman.

She withdrew her hand, looking at Glenn with a mix of confusion and concern.

“Instructor Valera!” Galvin clapped his hand on Glenn’s shoulder. “I appreciate you keeping Glenn out of any further trouble.”

The old man turned to look at the other patrons.

“Just a bit of weekend fun folks,” Galvin announced. “Nothing more to be worried about!”

With that, the people turned back among themselves. Conversation resumed and the merry mood in the bar returned once more.

“Hardly seemed like Glenn’s fault.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’ll put in a word to the headmaster regarding the guardsmen. This isn’t the first time they’ve caused trouble.”

Galvin squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you,” said Glenn.

“Anytime Glenn.” She smiled. “It wouldn’t do any good to have you ruffled up like that. Most of the students would be in an uproar. Mine in particular.

She winked, then moved back to her table to the other instructors, while Glenn moved back behind the bar with Galvin.

“You okay there?” Galvin raised an eyebrow. “Seems like the lugger hit you pretty hard.”

“I’m good.” Glenn rubbed his shoulder. The one which Galvin squeezed.

            “Glenn you okay?” Gale crept over, dropping a tray of empty mugs onto the bar.

            “I’m fine,” said Glenn. “Though I think Galvin’s grip did a lot more harm.”

“Say it when you don’t deserve it.” Galvin snorted. “Didn’t even put even any extra energy into it. I know how you feel about these uppity folks, but remember this isn’t home.”

The doors to the bar swung open, catching their attention.

A woman stepped through, wearing a pale coat indicating reminiscent of what they called scientists in their world, but alchemists in this one. Her bored blank expression amid her blue eyes contrasted with a youthful pretty face. Atop her shoulder-length blue hair, she wore a black and red tiara with triangular nudges with, according to Gale, had a long-drawn historically complex and aesthetically suitable reason. Glenn just called them cat-ears.

She stopped by table seven, greeting her fellow instructors. Valera in particular. Then she spun, her eyes zeroing in Gale and walking to him like a homing missile.

Glenn looked over to Galvin and two snickered.

“Don’t keep your girl waiting kid,” said Galvin, then moved back to his place at the bar.

“Hi Gale.” she said, with that same blank stare that she always had. An odd person for sure, although Glenn could see why.

“Tali!” Gale leaned in for a hug, but she raised her hand to stop him.

“You smell like moldy grain.” She twitched her nose. “And spoiled water.”

“Well.” Glenn started working on wiping down another mug. “Not surprising if you look around. This is a bar after all.”

“Glenn.” She directed her blank expression to him. “As rude and inscrutable as always.”

“And you’re as blunt as ever Instructor Tali,” said Glenn. “What brings you to this house of moldy grain and spoiled water?”

“I wanted to see Gale,” she said, turning back to the younger man.

“Come on Tali,” said Gale. “Let’s go grab a seat.”

“I’ll have to cleanse it first.” She brought out a vial from her coat. “I ran some experiments with volplum and prenseed. I found it to be quite effective at eliminating odors.”

“Sure!” Gale grabbed her free hand. “We should talk more over the table though. Come on!”

Tali jolted upon human contact, and her vacant cheeks turn a shade more red. However, she went along as Gale dragged her away.

Glenn shook his head at the two, when the door opened again.

A man stepped in, wearing what could be loosely called a trench-coat. He stood about a shoulder shorter than him, snooting across the room through his spectacles.

Brennan. One of their expedition researchers, and probably here to deliver his weekly report. Although he was running on the late end of things.

Glenn nudged his head over, and Brennan took a seat the bar across from him.

“So,” said Glenn. “What can I get for you?”

“Something special,” said Brennan.

Glenn froze for a moment, before moving to grab a spare mug. Something special was code-word for an off-cycle request.

“Well,” said Glenn. “Here at Galvin, Glenn, and Gale’s we pride ourselves in strong spirits. How strong would you like yours to be?”

“Pretty strong,” said Brennan.

Which meant it needed to be done soon.

“I see,” said Glenn. “Well, would you like to pay in advance?”

“Of course!” Brennan slipped a small coin pouch over.

Galvin stepped over.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Glenn. “Our customer here wants something strong. Standard stock.”

“Oh-ho,” said Galvin. “Might be some time then.”

“A bit urgent,” said Brennan. “But nothing unmanageable.”

“Ah.” Galvin turned to Glenn. “I’ll take it from here, you’re good to go.”

Glenn nodded, slipping the pouch and disappearing past the door behind the bar.

He had a spry in his step, it appeared he would get the chance to burn off some steam tonight. Especially after taking a sucker punch to the gut.

Glenn passed by barrels and kegs, and the furnace and the section of the room where he held his baking tools. He pulled open a trapdoor, and shuffled down taking a glance around, just to ensure he was alone. Not that he had to worry. There were enough sigils and automatons running to mask any trace of latent energy, but even the best systems could fail at times.

He stepped to the far wall in the cellar, and a screen appeared.

[Analyzing… Analyzing… Crossworlder Expedition Authentication Completed… Codename: Marauder accepted… Greetings…]

The wall slid away, and Glenn stepped through to the stairway leading below.