Stick Tale: City of Light

Prologue

           The glow of lights hug the patrons as they sit down. A white, plane tablecloth protects the wood from food and beverage stains. Tired voices fill the air with stories of the day, while the shuffling waitresses move to and fro from kitchen to table. The smell of stew, beef and ale linger as patrons dance, drink and celebrate. While many gamble away their fortunes in games.

          One of the patrons, a decrepit old man sits at a lone table near the wall. He was large, yet he carried himself like he wanted to shrink and hide away from the world. He wore dusty brown clothes and a worn grey cloak, which blended him with the tavern's bleak walls.
          He hunched his shoulders and bent his neck over his drink as he hoarsely spoke, “I've seen lots durin' my time. But I'll tell ya kid, whatevea your sayin' ain't there.”

          “But I know it's true!” came a soft reply, “I've seen it, him, her whatever it is. We need to investigate it!”
          The boy was young, probably 16. He was hunched over, just like the old man but instead wore a blue tunic. His dark eyes glimmered while his brown cat like tail swung impatiently.
          The old man sighed, “We both ere know the lord ain't gonna do nothin' bout it. And the Clan won't do nothin' cause the lord won't do nothin'. Its hopeless kid.”

          “But what if we hired a few mercenaries?” the boy murmured. “Surely, they would be able to find something.”
          “Like I said kid, it ain't easy. Mercs ain't gonna risk snoopin' around Veroram and risk the Clan's wrath.'”
          “But surely there's something we can do! You know my brother never lies!”

          The old man hushed him, “Yer bringin' attention he're. Quiet down first” the boy grumbled but went quiet when he noticed the eyes of the other partons on them, “first even if yer brother's word is true, we ain't got no one wantin' to dip their hands in that fucking place.” He spat on the floor.

          “But there are!”

          Old grey eyes met dark eyes. “We ain't riskin' it kiddo.”
          “But what if we have no choice,” was the retort, “the only ones who would be willing are them and you know it.”
          “You know how much the Clan hates em'. Heck, the emperor would wage war just to get to em'.”
          “But Veroram is near the border, it's not claimed by anyone ! Surely they'll be able to do it.”
          “And why'd ya think no one claims it? Cause the Clan ain't let anyone claim it. No kingdom'll risk war with em.”

        “Fine,” the boy looked at the old man, “if you don't want to do anything then I will!”
          The old man sighed, "Yer only doin' this cause of yer brother ain't you?” he asked. But the boy only locked eyes with him in reply

          The old man hardened his gaze. It was a contest, to see who would blink first. And the first to blink woul lose. Finally, the old man closed his eyes. He could not compete with one with feline blood.

          “Fine. Do as yer want. But don't say I ain't warn ya.” he whispered.
          The boy smiled and took off running towards the door, leaving the old man alone, who only sighed and looked down.
          “Bar maid!” he spoke again, “I'll need a refill!”

          Outside, the boy rushed towards the town square. He ran as fast as his legs could, for he did not want to waste more time. Shouts of disapproval and anger were hurled his way as he bumbed into numerous people, but he paid little mind to them.
          At the square, he arrived panting and covered in sweat, but he did rest. He immediately rushed towards a large building with grey stone walls and blue roofs– the adventurers guild. A place where people can put up quests or missions for a price. These quests can be public where anyone can take it up, or be given to specific parties.
          As he opened the door, he searched frantically for an open counter. And luckily he found one.

          “I'd like to send a quest to an adventuring party!” he scrambled to the counter. But the counter was already closed for the morning. But before the man at the desk had anytime to reply the boy continued, “I would like to send a quest to Stick Tale!”