Away from the packed center of the plaza, in the upper loft of a tavern overlooking the square, the members of the Blood and Fire Mercenary Corps crowded the windowsills. They leaned out, straining to catch every word of Ava's speech drifting up from below.
It wasn't until the Q&A session wrapped up that the mercenaries finally pulled their heads back in, the tension breaking instantly into a chaotic din of chatter and clinking tankards.
"Hah! Just like the Commander called it!"
"Pay up, boys! I win. Twenty Blackstone coins."
The one demanding the payout was a dwarf named Stoutgut. Despite reeking of ale, his eyes were sharp, and his long beard was bound into tight, practical braids—a sign that despite the drinking, he was ready for business.
"Bad luck," grumbled the bookie, a gnoll named Bloodear. "No twists, no drama? Do they have zero faith in the Human Kingdom?"
Bloodear sighed, fishing a heavy purse from his belt and grudgingly counting out coins to the winners.
