The cold silence persisted as it seemed she was now more following him than he was following her.

  “Still nothing, huh?” yet he finally broke the silence; “Not even after all that…” His voice shifted in a way…different than before.

  “Huh?” The foreigner was…slightly confused. “What do you mean?”

  He merely gruntingly sighed… “Well, many things, but mainly: you haven’t beaten me up yet. Felt up your neck and waist, groped your body, even slapped your ass, yet my arm’s still attached…”

  “Ehm… Why would you think that I would do that?” she opted to ask with naive innocence; “It is clear that you are stronger than me, being the ‘man’ and such…” This, however, had a pinch of sarcasm.

  “Yeah, that’s the thing, lady…” he frankly began to reply, “it doesn’t matter how strong I am… I’ve clearly implied I’ve been wanting to fuck you and have shown zero respect for your womanhood. Any sane lady would have screamed bloody murder by now, or at least try to claw at me to back off.” His voice had shifted considerably. “You’re either the most disciplined person on this entire planet or you’re the most bafflingly naive, since for a lady who’s been leading her potential rapist straight to her home, you seem awfully calm and docile…”

  “Well, it is not that I am leading you; you are simply following me like the annoying insect that lands on the skin of me.” The foreigner could not help but be very blunt.

  “Annoying insect, huh?” The patron noted in mind. “Do you have any idea the type of danger you’re in right now? Or maybe you’re just not petrified of being violated and the fate after the fact like most ladies are… Cause that’s what should be running in the head of most; fear of being raped and the fear of being blamed for being raped…”

  The foreigner was not ignorant to the evident cold frankness in his voice; a vocal tone that seemed less forced. Nevertheless, her mask-obscured eyes became slightly evasive as if embarrassed, her speed slowing somewhat.

  The patron had glanced, eyeing her reply. “Hm. You’re a weird one alright.” he mumbled aloud as if musing in mind, sighing; “I bet you’re a mix of both, then… Aloof and naive, but not stupid; no, no… Bet you get trapped in your own head a lot—a thinker, a calculator…”

  “Huh…?” She was becoming more confused; she had not any the faintest clue what he was going on about.

  Yet, suddenly, his posture took quite the shift; “You know, mask, I’ve spent quite the time these past couple months or so…studying that nice figure of yours…”

  “Duh…” And just like that, her guard completely collapsed as his voice seemingly returned to that specific tone of his…

  “Sure, I mean, you’re a bit weakish and petite-looking, and but you aren’t scrawny. You’re clearly still able to yank a full-grown man down and crack his head… You’re definitely an athletic sort, I feel” he began to so remark away; “And, you know, sure you’ve also got more of a light chest on you, but at least you still got tits on you, haha! I mean, I felt them!”

  “Duhuh…” the foreigner merely mumbled… However, even though his voice had seemed to return to his usual, there was an odd…incongruency with respect to his voice and actual demeanor and stature, both of which seemed awfully static and disinterested—insincere.

  “But frankly, I think that suits you, don’t it? Apparently, girl tits can be pretty cumbersome and heavy—weighing you down…” his commenting thus continued; “You see, I like to study stuff in…detail, and something tells me—I just get this sense—that… You’re someone who likes to be light on your feet and move around a lot. Someone who’s built their body for alacrity and agility over strength; dodging, evading, and bending around more than bashing, slicing, and dicing…”

  “I see…” Well, that was…rather perceptive of him. But where was he going with this?

  “Most ladies can’t easily yank a man like me off them so easily… You look weakish, but you’ve got tenderly tough muscles on you—I felt them. Gets me thinking, you know… You can run away right now; you can escape, and even beat me straight up and down—that’s why I thought you would. But you didn’t… I get the feeling you let me have my way with you, not because you’re weak or couldn’t, no… But because you could easily hurt me… Speaks to your discipline and capability for restraint, don’t it?” Once again, there was a shifting tone; “ ‘Annoying insect’, was it now?… You feel in total control of this moment, don’t you?”

  Truly, she was continuously being given mixed signals from his demeanor; there was something about his voice and behavior that just…obfuscated his intentions.

  “That’s why I can’t help but fancy you so much. You’re just very appealing, you know?” His voice was suggestive yet also…ambiguous; “And your languages too; they’re kind of weird… I mean, one sounds like butchered Trinitarian mish-mashed with romantic flavoring, and the other sounds like…something vaguely Elklander—I mean you said that you’re from some New World colony, but even New World Elklander ain’t that weird…” he casually remarked onwards; “And, you know, speaking of that; I don’t think I’ve ever heard of some New World colony where ‘elves and man live together in harmony’ either.”

  “Well, this world is the big place and with the many of the strange places not yet found.” the foreigner merely replied.

  “Yeah, well…” He chuckled oddly. “You see, I’ve happened to have been all over this big old world.” he thus stated. “You know, we have some stuff in common I think; like you, I’m not even from this continent…”

  “I see.” Slowly but surely, dots took formation in her head, connections being made… Ah. So, thus, there was a reason for his apparent…interest in her languages? Beyond…intoxicated infatuation? Hmm…

  The foreigner did not like where this was going. Guard increasing, her right-hand was now more tucked within her handbag than outside.

  “And you know what else?” he continued on; “I’ve always been getting this sense that you’re more of a skilled fighter sort than you convey yourself to be—I mean, again, I really thought you’d beat me up by now… But, you know, another thing I got the sense of from watching that sweet ass of yours move around… You’re kind of regimented in the way you move and do shit, disciplined too” he had so astutely observed; “Then there’s from the way I’ve seen you interact with your old boss… Honestly, I can’t help but see a soldier in you…”

  Hearing this, the foreigner so sharply paused in place. “The warrior?” her breaths expunged; “You think that I am this ‘warrior’? Do I look like the warrior to you?” Her humored and dismissive voice belied the fact that she was now incredibly guarded… For indeed, how very observant of him. “Most clearly not. I am neither this warrior nor this…fighter you so see.”

  The patron had paused in kind; “That’s the thing, ain’t it?” He turned himself around, staring her down… His eyes, she saw… Cold, baggy, and almost calculative in their glare… Had they always been like that or…were these details she had completely missed up until this very moment? “I said ‘soldier’, not ‘warrior’.” he thus stated.

  “There is no difference?” Indeed, she had thought those two words were practically synonymous.

  “Oh, there’s a difference alright, especially in my true tongue. But even in this dump of a land, there’s a difference…” he bluntly spoke; “You’re right. You don’t look like any warrior, knight, or lady-at-arms at all; that’s because you aren’t any of that. You’re a trained and regimented professional; you’re a soldiery sort.”

  “Hm…” her lips mumbled so mellowly, attempting to keep her feign going… “But the ladies are not welcome in the armies of here. And I have the sense that this is the case for most of the places, no?”

  “Yeah… You wouldn’t be wrong… But that’s what makes this all the more weird, you know? I mean, a lady soldier! Would you look at that?” he merely replied; “But, you know, I’ve spent a lot of time around soldiers, so I like to think I know when I see one, especially one who ain’t where she ought to be; one who’s lost and doesn’t quite know what the fuck she’s even doing anymore—Trust me, been there too.”

  For just a moment, the foreigner’s attention slipped astray as her sight drifted down and away… For whatever reason, such words had struck far deeper than necessary, as if cuts to her fabrics.

  “That what’s I see. And that’s what I believe you are.” he reiterated.

  Yet the foreigner quickly rebounded, her mask-obscured eyes lancing sight straight back to him. “Well, there is quite the imagination to you, fine sir… The very strong one…” Her voice remained gentle and cordial, yet… “But, I must ask this to you: for what reason are you rambling to me about these things?” Indeed, it was becoming sterner and sharper; cracks forming within her feigning vocal mask.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a bit of a rep for, you know, rambling randomly…” He just casually shrugged; “Especially to women I wouldn’t mind sharing a long night with…” Again, his voice’s tone bounced back and forth between this and that… “But, if I had to narrow, I’d say…” He began to ponder, yet none of it seemed genuine; “Yeah, you kind of reminded me of someone, actually… Mainly because, reportedly, she had the same weirdness to her—maybe not as weird as you’ve turned out to be, though…”

  “Well, it is obvious that I am not this person, thus…” She failed to see where he was going.

  “Yeah, actually, about that…” He stepped a little closer; “Ever heard the name ‘Gunslinger’...?”

  “Hm?” Breaths sharpening, her stance immediately stiffened as her right-hand now firmly gripped that which was within her handbag, ready to draw.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “You know—just to maybe get your memory going—that once all-renowned Onyx-ranked adventurer, ‘best shooter in all the world’, mother to a few very…fucking annoying top-eggs…” He ahemed; “Half-elf, dark-blue hair, was always wearing a fancy masquerade—like you, but actually colorful… Long thought to be dead… Any of this opening a door?”

  “Yes. I am aware of her…somewhat…” Indeed, ‘Gunslinger’… That was her former associate’s very own pseudonym long ago. But by the time of the foreigner’s rescue, her former associate had long donned a new name; a new mask and a new face belonging to a different identity. “And she is dead. So, why do you… What is the point?” Indeed, why was he asking this? This could not be a mere coincidence.

  “Yeah, ‘dead’… There’s something funny about that…” he so began to reply, “you see, apparently—and these are just rumors—but someone looking awfully like her popped up out from fuck-nowhere… You know about the same time that fuck-festive between the Gods had happened back down central in Huckleberry… Yeah, apparently there was some noise about her heading into that fuck-zone and only to pop out with someone else, last reported to have headed top-north…”

  “…and?” the foreigner merely asked.

  “And didn’t you have another co-worker? A masquerade-wearing gal like you who was also a half-elf? One who randomly showed up one day some while ago and then randomly left only to show up again with you? One who was vague about who she was and who you even were…” he remarked, his head tilting with ostensible inquiry yet he had a faint smirk.

  “Yes. But she wore the different mask, and she had the green hair.” Indeed, her former associate had dyed her hair a more greenish color following her so-called ‘rescue’. At the time, the foreigner struggled to comprehend the why… Now, however, that why was rather apparent. Indeed… It seemed that it was not only just those unknowns from whom her former associate had been trying to hide.

  “And my…friend…is dead also. So, I still do not understand to where you are arriving.” She was frank.

  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard and heard… Your ‘friend’ is dead; though, not that there was ever a burial or body that was found, rightly? Or anything like that… And, you know, Gunslinger kind of just died randomly too, so…” he so remarked; “Kinda funny how that works. But I am starting to wander off in my head…” He so ahemed; “No, I only brought up Gunslinger because, again, you just remind me of her—or at least, what I’ve heard of her… She was notoriously private and secretive, kind of like you—except maybe more so.”

  “Alrightly… And? I still do not see to where you are arriving.” she reiterated.

  “Hm.” The patron proceeded to sigh with quite the yawn, for it was becoming rather late and he was rather tired. “Let me go on a hunch and take a guess…” Breaths beginning to speak, he stepped closer; “I bet you went around searching for work only to be met with the blunt reality of being a lady; bet you even tried to join the guard, didn’t you? I mean, why wouldn’t you, rightly? But only to end up failing because, again, lady…”

  Tsk. Again, perceptively accurate… Suspiciously so…

  “And… Allow me another hunch, huh? I bet you have an itch inside of you, don’t you? One that nothing you’ve done so far has been quite able to scratch, since it just lacks that something—that oomf to it. I mean, come on… You can’t take a fish out of the water and expect to thrive on land; it’ll suffocate it, and I bet you feel suffocated.” his voice so remarked… “But, you know, the city guard and army aren’t the only places where you can scratch that itch.”

  “Not the…only places?” Despite better instincts, her attention fell astray… “They are not the only…places?” Yet again, his words had struck more than necessary…

  “Nope. Not at all.” He shook his head; “See—and to circle back—I guess why I brought up all these points is that… Every time I see you and with how much you remind of me Gunslinger, I always keep thinking: ‘you know, that sexy ass ought to become an adventurer; think she’s got it’…” he remarked; “So, I mean, now that you’re free… Have you considered it? Joining the one and only Adventurers’ Guild. I think you really ought to…”

  “The ‘Guild of the Adventurers’…” the foreigner repeated, relaxing slightly… “I have heard it. But it is with the…bad condition, no?”

  The patron chuckled; “Tyeah. It’s in a real shit-found position broadly, on death’s doors practically—a slow and excruciating one too. But it’s still got fight in it, and the Coastfield branch is doing pretty well from what I’ve heard… It’s the hub of all the northwestern branches, so they say” he casually replied; “But, you know, either way… Ladies can join the Guild—no stupid business either. It’s how most women start their careers as fighters, in fact… Being an adventurer, former or otherwise, is quite the helping background for mercenary work.”

  “Hm…” Interesting… The foreigner was beginning to feel…strange on the inside… If what he was saying was true, that there were…no humiform restrictions, then… Yet, even so, from her prior interactions with the so-called ‘adventurers’ whom she had encountered, nothing about this ‘guild’ of theirs indicated a…formalized and systematized military apparatus.

  “And, just to say, I get it… The Guild may not be an army or whatnot, but… You know, there is a lot more to the Adventurers’ Guild than meets the eye—talk to enough people, you’ll hear it; spend enough time, you’ll see it…” he thus remarked, words continuing on. “And besides, ‘quests’, you might’ve heard of them. They may not be exactly like orders, but at least they lay out clear expectations and tell you what need to do and how to do it; all straightforward without too much ambiguity… And at the very least they give you objectives to do and pay you for it…”

  “Clear and…without the ambiguity…” Indeed, the foreigner relaxed further… For reasons not even she could comprehend, there was something so…drawing about such a notion. However, even so, she quickly snapped out of it and rebounded, her attention swinging right back to this so very suspicious patron; “Enticing, I may admit. However, there are the other plans to me in the present.” she thus stated, bluntly.

  Yet the patron’s demeanor stiffened and slumped, his glaring eyes becoming blunter; “Alrightly, now, now… Let’s be completely fucking real here: you aren’t some scholar or stoogey student, lady. No, no: I see a lot more potential in you—and not just me, no, no… It won’t just be me.” he so frankly yet so vaguely spoke, before momentarily pausing in his speech… “All your talents and even your fancy magic, they’ll just be wasted at the Collegium. Believe me…”

  ? … ? The foreigner stood there, slightly frozen, her mind needing a moment to…process what she had just heard. ? Quid? Quidna jam modo di?het? ? In this moment, every single dot connected into sensibility.

  Immediately, her right-hand drew the primitive firearm she had been keeping within her handbag this entire time, the handbag falling to the ground as both hands gripped that pistol; hammer cocked, finger near but not on the trigger, her posture and handling seemed clearly trained.

  “Ah. I see. And, thus, how is it that you know of this? You have been…‘stalking’ me, then?” Any semblance of her feigning persona had been completely dropped.

  The patron, however, appeared completely unaffected by this turn of events, although he was…certainly sweating. “Ah. This the real you, then?” His eyes merely peered. “Now, that’s quite the beauty you’ve got on you. Six-shot revolver, cap-and-ball… Chunky and heavy… Dwarven?” he observed, stepping a little closer; “Funny. Don’t really see those beauties in these lands. Nope. And, if I recall, didn’t Gunslinger have those exact kind of fancy dwarven guns?”

  Yet the foreigner’s pointed aim became sharper; “No. I am done with this. Who are you truly? And what is that you want with me?” she interrogated, voice hollow and frigid.

  The patron, however, just shrugged as he stepped even closer, to which the foreigner took a single firm step forward.

  “Answer.” Her aim only became even sharper.

  “Oh, no need overreact, lady…” He began to stroll with apparent indifference belied by his awkward sweat, both her eyes and her firearm’s aim tracking his movements perfectly; “A few birdies just happened on by and told me… Maybe you’ve met her, or him, or both.” he thus answered, vaguely; “As for what I want… Well, I want many things—heh, too many things honestly… But, in this case, I want to have a special relationship with you one day, but I already know…I’m gonna have competition with a bunch of eggs…”

  “…eggs?” This was the second instance of him referring to these ‘eggs’. What was that even supposed to mean?

  Nevertheless, emboldened by his steps, he ultimately walked right passed the foreigner who turned in synch and retained her targeted lock, to which he remained so utterly indifferent. “Now then, my throat’s fucked now…” he thus began to say, “real shame I couldn’t fuck yours too, teha!” His voice…bounced all the way back to his usual.

  ? Phí… ? the foreigner muttered… She did not actually want to shoot him; he was calling her bluff, ugh.

  “But, yeah, in the meantime,” the patron stretched out his arms, yawming as he continued to casually stroll down the opposite direction of her intended way, “why don’t you check out the Guild hall here? See if you fit in…” Suddenly, he flicked a gold coin into the air which fell her way, landing before her feet. “That’s to cover the entry.”

  Yet her targeted focus remained locked on him.

  “Anyway,” he simply waved, “don’t worry, whatever you decide, we’ll be talking again eventually. I mean, unless you wanna continue this somewhere else! I’m up and down for that, teha!” And with those words, he began to take off, walking faster. “Oh, one more thing!” he abruptly shouted from the distance, “if you do end up joining, be sure to not get rid of that token-marker I gave you a while back. Could be important someday! But, I mean, I do I have extras!”

  The foreigner’s attention remained locked in place, watching until he was definitively gone, after which… She sighed, lowering her gun… ? Qual hemonculos parvulos texents… Phí quomo jo non vidí príore? ? Truly, what a little weaving bug… How did she not see it before?

  This entire time, from the day he first stumbled into that tavern, she had presumed him to be some mere perpetually intoxicated nuisance… Yet such was…precisely what he wanted.

  She had presumed his questions and interests in her were impulsive and meaningless… But they, in fact, had been focused inquiries. His interest in her languages; his interest in her…features and all those other details he had randomly inquired about… Even his brazen behavior and intrusive conduct—his pestering, touching, and suggestive words… He had been prodding her, gauging her, testing her, and collecting information from her very responses, reactions, and…her replies.

  Indeed, every strange sense she had gotten from him in retrospect made sense now… Frankly, she would perhaps laud his effectiveness were she not presently annoyed deep down within that she had played right into it.

  Exhaling a recognizing breath, she uncocked her revolving pistol’s hammer; picking up her now dirtied handbag, she safely and carefully placed the firearm back into it. She then readied herself to just…turn around and go home, but then…

  Something shiny, glimmering…

  Right… Her mask-obscured eyes looked at that gold coin still on the ground.

  Hmm… “The Adventurer Guild, huh?” she mumbled aloud. That…patron, that spy, or whoever he even truly was… It was obvious that he had an agenda of sort; that he wanted her to go down this specific path for reasons his own.

  She herself had no reasons to follow this way.

  Yet… Even so, she could not help but muse in mind… Clear objectives and structured tasks to do; missions to be done… And from she had observed of the few adventurers who visited that tavern, these so-called ‘quests’ seemed…to pay reasonably enough. The Collegium plans notwithstanding, she would still need coin for the next few months ahead.

  Static and motionless, she contemplated and cogitated… Before, with yet another sigh, she thus picked up that gold coin, placing it into her pouch; she then turned around and…recontinued her walk home.

  She trusted absolutely none of this at all. However, she was more curious than she cared to admit. Indeed, there was…something enticing, even if the what remained obfuscated to her. And considering she had been given the coin to pay for this ‘entry’, in absence of any other alternatives, there was…no harm in…at least giving this ‘guild of adventurers’ an inspection—tomorrow, of course. It was not as though she had anything else needing to be done…

  Ah. But be mindful not to fall so far into the delusions around…

  And forget what continues to beckon within the shadows of your mind…

  That certain mission; that certain purpose; that task and reason for your being here…

  Of which you perhaps feel you have been neglectful.

  Even if you cannot comprehend it.

  Even if you are always reminded of it.

  By that certain lingering presence…

  Always felt.

  Always…

  Watching.