Chapter 139 You’re Hired
The Jessup priest then beckoned them to follow him and led them through a warren of narrow, winding alleys. As they strayed away from the main street, the Trade District quickly lost its splendor, giving way to poorly maintained pavements, sidewalks and buildings. Often crammed together, sometimes even piled on top of each other.
Still being in the Trade District, these properties were also businesses of all kinds, whether they were stores, inns or pubs, but their clientele and activities were certainly a bit more shady.
On the way, Ikaris was jostled by a hooded man wearing a grimy cloak, and if Danchun hadn't grabbed and snapped his wrist in time, the guy would probably have gone through his pockets.
"Be careful, my Lord." She warned him deadpan as she knocked out the pickpocket with a harsh tap on his neck with the edge of her hand.
Ikaris and Nardor shuddered involuntarily as they witnessed this display of violence, but they nodded nonetheless. The priest who had been silent all along stared thoughtfully at Danchun, then turned to the youth leading the group and praised,
"You have a good bodyguard. A bit too weak, but she has the right attitude."
"She's not my bodyguard." Ikaris calmly denied. "But yeah, she's reliable. More than you think."
Danchun remained impassive, but the corner of her lip curled up slightly before returning to normal. 'At least you have a conscience.'
They encountered no further incidents on the way and stopped a few minutes later in front of a narrow building that blended into the scenery. The outside was covered with soot and ivy as if the place was abandoned. There were no signs or windows either, making it impossible to determine what was going on inside.
Confident, the priest knocked twice and a few seconds later they heard the latch click. A small sliding hatch in the door at their face level opened a few inches, revealing the wary gray eye of a middle-aged man who hadn't showered in a while.
"Who's there?" The doorman grunted ungraciously.
"Don't you recognize me, Goroth? It's Abram." The Jessup priest replied with a polite smile.
"Abram? Never heard of him." The man shook his head as he closed the sliding hatch.
The priest suddenly thrust his arm inside, blocking the closing of the trapdoor and grabbing the doorman by the throat. He yanked back hard and a thud, followed by a groan of pain, was heard as the doorman's face slammed against the door.
"Damn it! I was just kidding Abram, cut me some slack." The man bawled in panic.
The priest choked him for a few more seconds in front of the slackjawed mouths of Ikaris, Danchun and Nardor, then slowly released his grip. Then they heard the sound of a latch being lifted, then the sound of keys turning in a lock and the door creaking open. The smell of sweat and alcohol immediately wafted to their faces.
Ikaris and Danchun immediately plugged their noses and winced, tears welling up in their eyes. As for Nardor, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed and burst out laughing with a delighted face.
" Ah, that good old tavern smell, I've missed it! " The dwarf exclaimed happily after a second puff.
" You missed it? " Ikaris looked at him dumbfounded as if the dwarf had been cradled too close to the wall as a child.
Danchun didn't even make an effort to hide her disgust and contempt. "Do we really have to go inside? I don't want to expose myself to weird bacteria and viruses until my Qi is restored."
Ikaris gave her a sympathetic look, then gently but firmly pushing her while grabbing both her shoulders, he ruthlessly proclaimed, "If I have to go inside, so do you."
The young woman's lips twitched, but she had no choice but to go in first. Once the group was inside, they were able to confirm that the doorman was even uglier and filthier than they had expected.
It was indeed a tavern as Nardor had guessed. A somewhat empty and unsanitary tavern, but a tavern nonetheless. There were about twenty men and women sitting alone or in groups, silently sipping their liquors. Most of them were wearing dark, worn-out bandit or traveler clothes and long hooded coats as if they were trying to hide their identities.
For a second, Ikaris wondered if they had come to the wrong place, but at two of the tables he spotted distinctive wooden statuettes, while at another one of the customers wore a silver medallion depicting another saint.
"All the customers here have fallen from grace in one way or another." The man named Abram explained to the trio, ignoring the doorman glaring hatefully at him. "Renegade priests often end up here, but it's also a good place to get information or request other... services."
"What kind of services?" Ikaris asked fearlessly.
"The kind of service that a Jessup priest would not approve of." Abram answered evasively, his countenance asserting his intention to say no more.
"...Never mind." Ikaris shrugged. "I'm not here for that."
Nardor hadn't waited for them and had already engaged the tavernkeeper in conversation to order himself a pint of beer. Ikaris and Danchun refused to follow suit. They did not want to consume anything from such an establishment. Just to walk from the door to the bar, the wooden floor had squeaked so loudly with every step they took that they could imagine it giving way under their weight anytime.
The tavernkeeper was a big man in his fifties, paunchy but with biceps and forearms big enough to strangle a bull with his bare hands. His baldness was well advanced, but he had chosen to wear his hair long, his mane being limited to a few scattered grey strands. The result was a sloppy look as if he was clinging to his former youth in vain.
"Hey, what's up Abram? I haven't seen you here in a while." The tavernkeeper gave the old priest a hug. "Did you get a job for another one of those lazy idiots or are you bringing me more renegade priests? You know I prefer the second option because it means more customers for me."
"Ron, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you this time. I'm here to help this man recruit." Abram smiled as he introduced Ikaris, Danchun and Nardor.
The tavernkeeper sized up Ikaris and his two companions for a brief moment, then asked him directly,
"What kind of priests are you looking for?"
Ikaris repeated what he had told Abram and the tavernkeeper thought for a few seconds before suddenly barking,
"Hey Poppy get your ass over here! Someone's got a job for you!"
A drowsy man with his face immersed in his nearly empty pint of beer jerked upright, spilling the rest of his drink on himself. His hood tipped back, revealing the face of a youth in his twenties. He hadn't been to the barber shop in a while, his eyes were ringed, and he sported an unkempt beard several months old.
"R-really?" He muttered cautiously. "This isn't another one of your crappy jokes?"
"I'm not joking this time. Your future boss is the young Lord right here." Ron growled as he pointed to Ikaris.
"Oh blessed be Elsisn!" The young priest scrambled over to the boy, prostrating himself at his feet as he sobbed unabashedly over his boots. "I beg you, lemme work for you. I will accept to officiate in any temple! No, even a simple offering table will do! Just give me a chance to preach and spread Elsisn's gospel. I will work for free day and night! I just need a roof over my head and three meals a day!"
Ikaris and Danchun became speechless as they watched a man of faith humiliate himself without any restraint to get a job. How desperate was he to serve his Saint?
Clearing his throat, the teen helped the priest to his feet, ignoring the drool on his boots and said,
"Okay, you're hired. Don't disappoint me."
The priest's eyes widened in amazement as he heard that he was hired. His voice immediately choked with tears as he thanked him with a sob,
"T-Thank you very much! I won't let you down! I'll make the Elsisn Temple in your kingdom the 11th Wonder of the World!"
"Yeah yeah, stop bragging." Ikaris rolled his eyes, having no idea what the other ten Wonders of the World were to begin with.
He was still missing his priestess of Kinah. Turning his attention back to the tavern keeper he asked, "What about the other priest I want to recruit?"
"Newen and Mira are in their rooms at this time. I can have them called."
This tavern also served as an inn for these renegades.
"Then, please do." Ikaris nodded.
The tavernkeeper temporarily left his counter and disappeared up the only staircase leading to the upper floor. A few minutes later, he returned with two identical young women barely over the age of 18.