"Would you like to order?"
"Five more drinks over here!"
"Is the food I ordered not ready yet?"
"Yes, yes, your food is coming right up!"
The voices of customers ordering food at the stall's tables blend together in a lively cacophony. At nearby stalls, where other wagons are parked, shopkeepers and vendors call out to passing customers. The hearty laughter of a man raising his glass high, the sound of music, and the chatter of voices fill the air.
"Sir, sir, are you looking for something specific?"
"Try some kupu! Grilled over a wood fire, the aroma is unbeatable!"
"Hahaha! Today's my lucky day!"
"Come taste the fireliquor of Torte!"
"From the south, the finest goat-hair carpet from Kisha!"
*The strum of strings from a musical instrument*
"Those damned Ixtarn merchants, coming all the way here to do business like that."
"Let's drink tonight!!"
"Your drinks are here~ Oh!"
"You won't find prices as good as ours anywhere else!"
"Ugh! It's too expensive, way too expensive!"
*The beat of a small drum and the chirping melody of a flute, like birdsong*
"Let's explore more tomorrow. We've got plenty of time, don't we?"
"Alright! My coin's good tonight!"
Amid the passing crowds, the sounds of voices from food stalls and taverns surrounded by stalls and wagons echo through the air. People raise their voices to be heard over one another, creating a vibrant din. The tangled mix of sounds fills the Grand Market, making the late night feel anything but quiet.
"If you go a bit further and veer off the main path, you'll find the spot where merchants from Vanald and Weild park their wagons." Dianf said.
Soon after, the group continued along the brightly lit market, as radiant as daytime, and found the quieter spot Dianf had mentioned. They parked two wagons there.
Reave and Kein, who had spent the entire day on horseback, groaned as they rubbed their aching thighs. Diara stepped down from the wagon and began watering the horses that had worked hard all day. Iris and Gravel, too, tied up the horses and fed them water and fodder, tending to their needs.
Around them, other wagon travelers were wrapping up their day. Some set up tents, while others yawned and stretched inside already-pitched tents. The crackling of campfires and the distant hum of voices from the still-lively street of shops, taverns, and food stalls filled the air.
"Since someone needs to stay and guard the wagons, how about we take turns? Some of us can head to the food stalls we saw earlier, or bring back food for those staying behind."
Diara suggested, approaching Kein as he prepared to light a campfire.
"I'll go with Kein!"
Reave volunteered, raising his hand to fetch a late dinner for everyone. To ensure he wouldn't be short-handed or get lost, he made sure to bring Kein along.
*****
Reave and Kein returned to the bustling street of stalls, weaving through the crowd and asking for directions until they reached a lane lined with small food carts.
"Wow, look at that, Kein! Have you ever seen an iron cauldron that huge? How many servings could that hold?"
Reave said, stopping to point at a man in distinctive clothing—a red patterned cloth wrapped around his head—standing on a wooden box. The man was skillfully stirring a massive cauldron, many times larger than a standard one, with a long wooden paddle resembling an oar used for rowing. Inside, chunks of finely chopped meat and green and pale yellow beans were being stir-fried.
"Probably a hundred servings, right? Mmm, it smells good. Should we get that?" Kein suggested.
"Let's look around a bit more before deciding. How about we check out the end of the street and then circle back to choose? On a night like this, we should enjoy the sights. Diara's already talking about leaving tomorrow, so this might be our last chance to explore!"
Reave said, bouncing with excitement as he strode energetically through the food stalls.
The sizzling sound of battered chicken pieces frying golden-brown in a pan full of oil, their savory aroma drawing in customers, filled the air. At the next stall, a vendor stirred a thick soup in a large, cylindrical pot, ladling it into small, shallow wooden bowls and offering the vibrant red broth to passersby, shouting boldly.
"Taste the finest delicacy on the continent!"
"Ugh, it's impossible to find anything here that doesn't look delicious! It's a shame we can't eat it all!"
Reave said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Pork glazed with a sweet, dark sauce and grilled over glowing red coals, fish of various colors and sizes—red, black, blue—roasted to perfection, and lavish platters of fried lobster mixed with fragrant spices and vegetables caught their eyes. Customers eagerly rubbed their hands together, awaiting their orders. Others savored meatballs wrapped in vegetables. The endless parade of dishes tempted Reave and Kein relentlessly.
There were also stalls selling all kinds of bread. Some baked dough on the walls of round, fire-heated clay ovens, others used makeshift brick and mud kilns to bake their loaves. Long, slender breads, small round ones—each stall offered breads of different shapes and sizes, clustered together at the end of the street.
food stalls from all corners of the continent gathered here, tickling the noses, dazzling the eyes, and stirring the stomachs of visitors like Reave and Kein who wandered this small street of culinary delights.
After a brief discussion, the two narrowed their bread choices down to five or fewer.
That's when it happened.
"Why the hell are you here?!"
Reave shouted, loud enough to briefly draw the attention of passersby.
A man wearing mismatched metal gauntlets, with hair sticking out from a cracked helmet and half-closed eyes, stopped in his tracks. Crumbs from the food he was eating clung to his roughly trimmed beard as he chewed. At Reave's shout, he slowly raised a hand to wave.
"Hey… uh, who were you again?" the man said.
"Ha! Killed so many people you can't even keep track anymore?!"
Reave retorted, reaching for the sword at his waist. Kein quickly stepped in, grabbing Reave's arm to stop him from drawing the blade.
"Hmm… meeting you here… you're one of those soldiers from the Hidden Moon Witch, hauling statues, right? Almost didn't recognize you with the new outfit, heh heh." Gulick said, flashing a broad smile at the two.
"Not here, Reave. And we need to tell Diara about this, fast."
Kein whispered urgently, trying to make Reave see reason. The reality was clear: even if they drew their weapons and attacked Gulick here, they had no chance of winning. Kein recalled how Gulick and his men had retreated unscathed during their last ambush. The priority was to inform Diara that Gulick was here.
"Oh, relax, you two. That job's done. I returned the client's money, and we sent Baron Verde back safe and sound." Gulick said casually.
"We're not foolish enough to trust a bandit's word!" Reave snapped.
Stepping forward, Kein spoke up.
"Then tell us why you're here."
"Huh? Oh, vacation, of course. Even though the job failed, I still got a bit of coin from House Verde. There's no place on the continent with food this good, so I'm here to forget the failure and refresh my body and soul. Heh." Gulick said with a low chuckle.
"We'll have to put off avenging Dalt, Reave. It's just the two of us—we can't take him. As much as it sucks, that's the reality."
Kein said, grabbing Reave's shoulder and pulling him back slightly.
"Revenge, huh? Well, I'm always ready for that. It comes with the job. But… Dalt, was it? His death was just collateral damage, part of the gig. You're soldiers; you should know to expect that much. I'm not trying to disrespect your dead friend. And since that job's over, neither the Hidden Moon Witch's statue nor her lackeys—you guys—are my concern anymore. So go on, do your thing."
Gulick said, reaching for the leather waterskin at his waist and uncorking it.
Judging by the grimace and the heavy exhale after he drank, the liquid inside was clearly not plain water.
"One day, I'll wipe that smug grin off your face…"
Reave growled, still gripping his sword's hilt tightly, glaring at Gulick.
"I'll look forward to that."
Gulick replied with a grin.
"Oh, and while you're here, try the farta from Kisha. It's lamb coated in yellow bean sauce and grilled. Five wagons down, look for the guy with a yellow cloth over his shoulder—he runs the farta stall. Easy to spot."
Before Gulick could finish, Reave and Kein turned and vanished into the crowd.
"You gotta try it! It's really delicious… Haha, looks like I've made some enemies…"
Gulick called out to the empty air where they'd disappeared, his figure looking oddly lonesome.
"What's going on, boss?"
Deep voice boomed from behind Gulick. A tall, burly man with sunburned skin and a muscular frame, wearing a tunic that left one thick shoulder bare, stepped forward.
"Nothing much. Just some folks I ran into before."
Gulick said, flashing a smile and a wink at the man, likely one of his subordinates.
"Someone's looking for you, boss. Came right to the tavern where we were drinking, asking for you by name."
"Ugh, I told you I'm on vacation. I don't wanna talk business," Gulick said, squinting one eye at the burly man.
"Should I send 'em away?"
"Hmm… hold on. Did you recognize them?"
"Recognize? The guy was wearing a mask, so all I could see were his eyes. Voice was unfamiliar, too."
"A mask, huh… Alright, let's go check it out. I'll hear them out and decide if I'm cutting my vacation short."
Gulick said, patting the big man's shoulder before turning to lead the way down the street.