Magical Soul Parade

Chapter 217: Prowlers On The Loose (I)

Whether Finn truly had the bearing of a great figure or not was debatable. But what was certain was that tonight, he was like a king to these dock workers.

The tavern they headed was called The Barnacle’s Rest, a squat building wedged between two warehouses near the eastern docks. It was the kind of establishment that catered exclusively to dock workers. Their speciality was a good serving of cheap ale, cheaper food, and no pretense of respectability.

Finn, who’d previously never really drunk alcohol, did so with gusto tonight. Downing mug after mug of the tangy dock ale that tasted of fermented grain and salt. The workers cheered with each empty mug he slammed down, treating it like some kind of competition he was winning through sheer determination.

By the end of the night, Finn had practically blown all the money he’d earned for the day. But in doing so, he’d become something like a brother to these simple men. They clapped him on the back, shared frankly vulgar jokes, told stories of the sea that were probably half fiction. And Finn laughed along with them, his usual calculated demeanor loosened by alcohol and genuine camaraderie.

Jon, who had learned of the situation and came here himself, sat in the corner, nursing his second mug and watching the spectacle with a mixture of amazement and concern. How did Finn do it? Make friends so easily, so naturally? Jon had worked these docks for months and barely knew half the men here by name. Finn had been here one day and they were treating him like family.

By the time they staggered out of the tavern with Jon half-supporting Finn’s weight, it was already deep into the night. Way past the time Jon usually left the city. The gates would be closed, the guards unwilling to open them for anyone without special dispensation or a heavy bribe.

“We’re stuck,” Jon muttered, looking around the darkened street. “We’ll have to stay in the dormitories.”

But it wasn’t a problem. Finn had bought drinks for more than just the oakum workers. Workers from other sections of the docks had joined the celebration, drawn by the noise and the promise of free ale. And dock workers, despite their rough exteriors, had their own code of hospitality.

Several men were more than happy to allow Finn and Jon to stay the night in their crowded dormitories. Two grizzled men, previously sailors, even insisted they take their double bunk, saying they’d sleep on the floor without any complaint.

“You bought us five mugs!” the men declared, waving away Jon’s protests. “We’d sleep on the damned roof if you asked!”

Jon was more than surprised at the display. Yet again, he found himself wondering just how easy it was for Finn to make people like him. Was it natural charisma? Or something else entirely?

.

.

Night rest was uneventful, if uncomfortable. By the next morning, it was Finn who woke first, shaking Jon awake despite the sky still being fully dark.

Surprisingly — or perhaps not so surprisingly — Jon was the one who woke groggily, his head pounding from last night’s ale, while Finn seemed perfectly fine. As if he hadn’t drunk like a madman just hours before.

“Where are the bathrooms here?” Finn asked over the cacophonic sounds of hundreds of men snoring.

The dormitory was a single massive room filled with bunks stacked three high. The air was thick and humid with the stench of sweaty bodies, alcohol-laced breath, and other unpleasant odors that made Finn eager to escape. Jon felt the same. Now that he was awake, he could barely stand the smell for another minute.

Together they rushed toward the door, stepping carefully over bodies sprawled on the floor, trying not to wake anyone. The wooden planks creaked under their feet, and someone muttered in their sleep, but no one stirred.

The moment they pushed through the door, cool morning air hit their faces like salvation.

Jon immediately started wheezing. “If you ever do something like yesterday, I’ll just leave you at the tavern. There’s no way I’m ever bunking in there again.” He spat to the side as if the pungent smell had left a taste in his mouth.

Finn chuckled. “It was worth it regardless.”

He paused wistfully, then, changing the topic entirely, he asked, “…Jon, are you game for the adventure of a lifetime?”

Jon paused mid-step, staring at Finn like the guy was simply spitting nonsense. But after seeing what Finn was capable of over the last few days, how unpredictable things kept happening around him as if the world itself was in love with the fellow, Jon swallowed and asked hesitantly, “What do you mean?”

But Finn had recovered back to his usual playful air and seemed to have asked the question rhetorically. He was already walking toward the bathhouse nearby, a communal structure that serviced the dormitories.

Jon hurried to catch up. “Wait, what did you mean by that?”

But Finn was already asking another question. “Boss Murdo’s daughter, Vara. What God does she serve?”

Jon was thrown off guard again by Finn’s seemingly random question. He sighed, recognizing the pattern now. It was better he answered quickly if he wanted a response from Finn.

“The Shadow God, of course. Boss Murdo is an ardent believer. Very devout, pays all his dues to the temple. Everyone in his family is the same.”

Finn hummed noncommittally, then asked another question as if remembering something related. “What was the reason you were so hesitant back when we first entered the city? When I asked about that tall building next to the Shadow Temple?”

Jon’s expression immediately shifted to something more guarded. “Don’t poke your nose into matters like that. You shouldn’t just go around asking such questions.”

He checked their surroundings briefly, scanning for anyone who might be listening. The path was empty except for a stray cat picking through garbage.

“The Merchant Union and the Temple don’t see eye to eye,” Jon said quietly. “The temple’s been trying to contain the influence the merchants have on Hoshin Bay. These merchants come from different lands, shuttle between places where different Gods are served. A common characteristic is they all have very loose, open views about social constructs and traditions.”

He paused, organizing his thoughts. “Because wealth is associated with them, and frankly many people suck up to them, they have influence. That influence has been affecting Hoshin Bay. At first it was subtle, but recently the Temple’s hold began to slip terribly and they had no choice but to start taking bolder actions.”

“Like what?” Finn asked.

Jon moved closer, lowering his voice even further. “There are lots of scandalous, vile rumors floating around Hoshin Bay about certain merchant families. Many think the Shadow Temple is the one spurring them, because of the conflict.”

Finn suddenly paused and tilted his head slightly. A weird look briefly crossed his features, but it disappeared just as quickly as he continued:

“What kind of rumors?”

But just before Jon could speak, the bathhouse door opened, startling Jon into a fright.

A man walked out silently, passing them without a word or even a glance, heading back toward the dormitories.