Dreisterne

CHAPTER 15

The Remembrance Week Festival spilt across the streets of Trevorton like a living tapestry. Banners of vibrant colours fluttered from rooftops, and the air buzzed with laughter, music, and the tantalizing aroma of food wafting from countless stalls. Every corner brimmed with activity: jugglers performed for delighted children, merchants hawked exotic wares, and musicians played lively tunes that seemed to echo the joyous spirit of the crowd. Dreisterne wove their way through the festival, taking in the sights. Harald was the first to lose himself in the revelry.

"Ah, meine Freunde, observe!" he declared, pointing to a stall adorned with colourful signs advertising sweet fried doughs of any variety. "What culinary splendour hath graced this festival! It would be nothing short of kriminell to pass by without partaking."

Keith rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Knock yourself out, H. Just don't come crying when you've spent your florins on 'em."

Harald replied, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. "I have no fear for my wallet, for I am the portrait of dietary und monetary restraint." He proceeded to purchase a beignet topped with powdered sugar and a steaming cup of coffee, savouring them with an exaggerated sigh of delight.

Nathan shook his head with an amused smile but couldn't help commenting, "We're not pulling you out of trouble if you end up in a sugar coma."

The trio's light-hearted banter came to a halt when Blaine, the jolly combat instructor of the Freelancer's Guild, flagged them down. "Oi, Dreisterne! Perfect timing. I need a favour."

Nathan's brow furrowed. "What kind of favour?"

"Just manning the guild booth for a couple of days," Blaine replied, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "You lot have a reputation, and nothing pulls in recruits like seeing the famed Dreisterne lending a hand."

Harald raised a hand in mock protest. "Ah, mein Herr, surely you do not intend to use us as bait for the Guild's recruitment drive?"

Blaine clapped Harald on the shoulder. "Bait? Nah. Let's call it... mutual benefit. For two days, you three just sit in, hand out a few flyers, smile a bit, and the Guild gains some fresh blood. In return, you get a nice, fat pouch of silver florins each. Fair trade, eh?"

Nathan sighed but nodded. "Fine. Two days, and that's it."

Grinning, the instructor led them to the Freelancer's Guild booth. It was nothing remarkable; just a sturdy table draped with the Guild's banner and stacks of recruitment flyers. But its location, near the heart of the festival, ensured a steady flow of foot traffic. Also, the guild's kitchen crew opened a booth next to it, and Harald was delighted to learn that he could have a free flow of beignets and coffee as long as he watched over the booth.

"15 silver says that Harald's going comatose from all the flour and sugar before tomorrow ends," Nathan muttered to Keith, making sure Harald heard nothing from him.

"Try him needing a bigger belt, Nate. You're on!" Keith responded, snickering at the thought of a cantankerous, pot-bellied Harald demanding more beignets with coffee.

From the moment Dreisterne took their places, the booth became a magnet for attention. Festivalgoers eagerly crowded around, some curious about the Guild, others simply wanting to glimpse the trio whose exploits contributed to their meteoric rise to fame, becoming the stuff of local legends.

Keith leaned against the table, tossing flyers to passers-by with a cheeky grin. "Join us now, folks! Fame, fortune, and questionable life choices: all included, free of charge!" His easy, laid-back nature drew all walks of life to the booth, curious to see what the guild has to offer straight from his mouth, if not just chewing the fat over the day's weather.