In the frigid cold of the night, a small merchant wagon creaking and wobbling slowly made its way through a dark, gloomy town illuminated by small lanterns.
In every corner, there seemed to be shadows lurking, looking for a victim, someone stupid enough to let their guard down.
"Yup, this is the place." In front of an old tavern, where a couple of barrels of alcoholic rum were stacked, they stopped, and one figure came out to pack them up and load them onto the wagon.
While he did so, he was approached by a young man no older than fifteen. He stretched his hand out and said…
"Guild's cut."
At first glance, Enzo could point out a lack of manners from the young man; he even seemed to be under the influence. But what he had asked for just now was well within his rights.
He was clearly a member of the thieves guild.
Yes, this was Astoria.
