The city was louder than I expected.
Voices overlapped from every direction: merchants shouting, footsteps against stone, distant laughter, arguments, the clatter of metal. It was chaotic in a way that the Elven Lands never were.
Unrefined.
Messy.
Alive.
I moved forward slowly, my gaze shifting from one detail to the next. Stalls lined the streets, filled with goods of varying quality, some well-crafted, others barely worth a glance. People passed by without hesitation, each focused on their own business.
And yet
A few glances lingered.
Not many.
Not obvious.
But enough.
Not because of what I wore… but because of what I was.
"...An elf," someone muttered under their breath as they passed.
I ignored it.
The pouch at my side felt heavier than it was worth.
Every coin mattered.
Wasting even one would shorten the time I had left to stabilize myself.
I needed somewhere cheap.
Somewhere quiet enough to think.
It didn't take long to find it.
A tavern, tucked slightly away from the main road. Not large, not particularly clean, but not falling apart either.
More importantly, it wasn't crowded.
Perfect.
The moment I stepped inside, the noise dulled slightly.
Not enough to stop conversations.
But enough to notice.
A few eyes shifted toward me, brief, measuring, curious.
Then, slowly, most returned to their drinks.
Most.
I approached the counter.
The man behind it looked up casually, then paused.
His gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary.
"...An elf?" he said, not quite a question.
I didn't answer.
Instead, I placed my hand on the counter.
"Food and a room."
Straightforward.
His eyes narrowed slightly, as if reassessing something.
"...You got coins?"
I placed a few on the counter.
Enough, but not excessive.
He glanced at them, then back at me.
For a moment, it felt like he might say something else.
Instead, he took the coins.
"The room's small," he said. "The food's not great, either."
"That's fine."
A pause.
"...The price is higher for non-regulars."
Of course it was.
I said nothing.
Arguing would change nothing and would draw unwanted attention.
He slid a key across the counter.
"Upstairs at the end of the hall."
The room was exactly as expected.
Small. Bare. Functional.
A bed, a table, and a little else.
But it was enough.
For now.
I sat down slowly, letting the silence settle.
Then reached for the pouch again.
Counted.
Recounted.
Memorized.
"...Not enough."
At this rate, I had only a few days before the coins ran dry.
Which meant I needed to find work.
Soon.
Back downstairs, I took a seat in the corner.
Away from the attention, but not like I could escape the eyes of the people in the tavern.
Food arrived shortly after, simple but warm.
I ate without rushing, my focus split between the meal and the conversations around me.
Listening.
Learning.
Voices blended, rising and falling without a structure.
Most of it was meaningless chatter.
Complaints. Laughter. Drunken arguments.
But buried within it.
Fragments.
"Told you, I'm not going near that forest again…"
"...goblins, I swear it, more than before."
Goblins.
So the surrounding area wasn't stable.
Not surprising.
"...Count Edward's gone mad if you ask me."
"It's about the mine near the border, isn't it?"
"...gold'll do that to anyone…"
A dispute.
Nobles fighting over resources.
Predictable.
"...heard he's calling for more men."
"Soldiers, mercs, doesn't matter as long as they can hold a weapon."
So even the nobles were short on manpower.
Or desperate.
I took another bite, expression unchanged.
The information settled quietly in my mind, piece by piece.
Goblins in nearby forests.
Unstable roads.
A territorial conflict between nobles.
And a growing demand for fighters.
Not ideal conditions.
But…
Useful ones.
After some time spent digesting the bland food and the information, I headed to my room, thinking about what my next step should be.
I lay down on the bed and shut my eyes.
Not sleeping.
But pondering…
"...It's decided," I muttered
Tomorrow I will…