The first rays of the sun were just piercing the shutters of the modest room Brannok had rented for the night. His eyes opened, immediately lucid, without the grogginess of sleep. A survival habit, ingrained since childhood.
He sat on the edge of the bed and began a meticulous check of his equipment. His scarred hands moved over each item with routine precision. The blade of his Cimmerian sword: clean, sharp, without the slightest chip. The leather of his belt and boots: supple, with no suspicious wear. The provisions in his pack: intact, sufficient for a few more days. The few remaining silver coins: counted and recounted.
Everything was there. Nothing had been stolen during the night. The city, despite appearances, seemed relatively safe, or at least, the thieves had known how to recognize prey that was too dangerous.
Satisfied, he stood and stretched, the muscles in his back cracking slightly. The day was beginning. His objective: to gather information. To understand this city, its queen, and this new threat, the "Children of the Serpent."
He went down to the inn's common room, ordered a frugal breakfast—hard bread, cheese, and a mug of curdled milk—and listened carefully. Conversations buzzed, but it was mostly meaningless gossip.
It was when he went out to wander the streets that his attention was caught by a crowd gathering in front of the large notice board in the market square. A town crier, perched on a barrel, was reading aloud a freshly posted proclamation.
"...AND DOES PROMISE, BY ROYAL DECREE, A REWARD OF ONE HUNDRED GOLD PIECES FOR ANY INFORMATION LEADING TO THE CAPTURE OF A PRIEST OR RECRUITER OF THE SO-CALLED 'CHILDREN OF THE SERPENT'! FIFTY PIECES FOR ANY INTELLIGENCE ALLOWING THE FOILING OF THEIR MALEVOLENT PLANS! LET HONEST PEOPLE MAKE THEMSELVES HEARD!"
One hundred gold pieces. The sum was colossal. Enough to live comfortably for several years. Enough to equip a small army. The Queen was not messing around.
Brannok moved closer, listening to the crowd's comments.
"A hundred pieces!By the gods, you could buy a house!"
"Yes,but for that, you still have to find those damned serpents... They're more elusive than smoke."
"I heard they meet in the sewers...near the tanners' quarter."
Brannok registered the information without a flicker. The sewers. The tanners' quarter. It was a start. He stared at the official parchment, sealed with the symbol of the crown. The hunt was open. And he, the hunter, had just found a trail.
A cold smile touched his lips. He didn't need the gold. But the bounty officialized the threat and gave him a perfect reason to poke his nose where it wasn't wanted. The "Children of the Serpent" had just gone from being a curiosity to being designated prey.
His path was clear. He strode purposefully towards the stinking alleys that led to the tanners' quarter. The smell of rotting hides and acrid chemicals filled the air, far worse than that of the arena. It was the perfect place for something unclean to burrow and thrive in the shadows.