Sunlight poured down upon the dusty cobbles of Torid, causing the air to shimmer in the unseasonably warm spring heat. Within the marketplace, people from every walk of life went to and fro, each doing their best to finish whatever task had forced them out into this horrid heat so that they might escape to somewhere cooler.

  From within one such place, Rayne watched the unfortunates, observing the sweat that beaded their brows and caused their clothes to stick damply to their skin. For some, like the servant carrying his master’s purse, respite lay at the end of their journey. For others, such as the two beggars following the servant, their only refuge was the approaching dusk, still a good hour or two away by Rayne’s estimation.

  Unable to contain himself, Rayne let out a sigh. He was bored, his boss was in his office, and the clerk’s floor was devoid of customers. With chin in hand, he stared out the window by his desk and played his favorite game: who is the richest in the market?

  Flicking the beads on his abacus, which clacked gently against each other with each movement, he idly considered how bored the other clerks must be, what with their views limited to just the floor they occupied. This feeling of pity was quickly forgotten as he saw one finely dressed lady—undoubtedly some noble or their trophy—walk about the market.

  A few servants followed her, carrying linens and silks high above their heads, as if the possibility of them touching the ground—or worse, commoners—would warrant their execution. Seeing the fierce scowl of the lady had him pondering if it really might; at the very least, they might be fired for allowing ‘her majesty’s’ clothing to touch the filth that made up the riff raff of the streets.

  With a quick end to his game, he allowed his eyes to wander over the crowds once again, futilely trying to find anyone who could rival the lady and her servants. So enamored with his sightseeing, or possibly just with his avoidance of anything constituting work, that it took the man standing before his desk three coughs to gain his attention. With a start, he brought his hands back down onto the desk and took in his newest client, hoping to whatever gods may exist that he had not just pissed off someone important.

  “Ahem!”

  Unfortunately, it seemed that Rayne’s prayers had not been answered, for the well-dressed man before him looked furious.

  “Welcome to the Office of the City Registrar,” Rayne greeted him politely. “My name is Rayne. How may I assist you today?”

  “About damn time,” the man growled.

  He was roughly middle aged, with a thinning widow’s peak and a pair of spectacles that sat low on his bulbous nose. Beneath that was a moustache that contained more wax than an average candle, and a pair of thin lips currently pressed in an annoyed manner. His clothes were tailored, but not made from fine materials, indicating that he worked for a prestigious house, but was not himself a part of it. A servant perhaps, or a steward.

  Unaware of Rayne’s analysis, the man blustered on. “I’m a steward on a mission for Baron Redmond, and your lack of professionalism has cost me valuable time. Your manager shall be hearing from the baron’s house later.”

  Cursing inwardly, Rayne put on a fake smile and stared at the man. His daydreaming had cost the steward before him perhaps ten seconds, less than the time he had spent to complain. But there was nothing to be gained from arguing, and so he put on his best customer service facade and smiled at the man.

  “Certainly, sir. And what does the good baron need today?”

  With a harrumph, the steward reached into his vest pocket and withdrew an envelope, which he let fall onto the desk with a loud thump. “The baron needs you to process these documents. They’re for his upcoming journey to Thrade. He plans to take a full protective detail as a result of the recent goblin scare, and for some reason, this means that the city requires us to file for his retinue.”

  The snort he let out let Rayne know just what he thought of this policy, designed to prevent nobles from entering the city with a personal army by their side and taking it over from the inside.

  Staring at him, Rayne suppressed a sigh. The news he was about to deliver should have made him happy, and yet three years of dealing with such people had primed him to know exactly how the pompous little prick that stood before him was going to take it.

  Summoning his brightest smile, Rayne beamed at him. “I’m afraid you have the wrong office, sir. You’ll want the—”

  The rest of his sentence was immediately drowned out as the steward reacted in exactly the way Rayne had suspected he would.

  “What do you mean, the wrong office?!” The man was shouting now, spittle flying from his mouth and landing in his moustache. “I’ve been handling Baron Redford’s matters for over a decade now, and not once in that time have I ever been given such shoddy service! This is the registrar’s office! You handle the city documents! Well, the city wants this document, and you had better damn well process it, you ignorant, malfeasant whelp!”

  Feeling a headache coming on, Rayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sir, this is the registrar’s office. We handle register-related matters, as well as disbursements for official jobs. If the baron was getting married, you would come here. If he had performed a service for the city and required payment, you would come here. But noble retinues are the purview of the guard. What you want is the Office of the Guard over by the main gate.”

  This was the wrong answer, and immediately, the steward flew off into another tirade about respect and the importance of diligence, ironic considering his own lack of it, Rayne thought. Whatever else the man had to say, he did not know, having tuned out somewhere between the fifth and ninth synonym for impertinent brat.

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  After far too long, Rayne’s manager—a fat, balding man named Kline—appeared, and the good baron’s steward was ushered into a private room, away from unpleasant young clerks who used awful words like ‘No’.

  Knowing that he was likely in for a tongue lashing from his manager later, despite having done nothing wrong, made Rayne depressed, and he nearly did not notice that another man had appeared, this one looking quite unlike the one before.

  His surprise must have shown on his face, but luckily, the man waved off his startled and alarmed expression with a short laugh.

  “Worry not, lad, some of us understand that angry words don’t make people work any faster.”

  Rayne let out a short breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The last encounter still hung over him like a cloud, but he could not afford to let it weigh him down. He needed this job too much for that. Recomposing himself, he gave the man a courteous nod. “My apologies nevertheless, sir. How may I assist you?”

  The man gave him a quick nod in return and then pulled out an envelope from beneath his shirt. “I’m just here to collect my fee for a job done. I’ve heard you do that here.”

  There was a grin on his face as he said this, having clearly overheard the previous conversation. Not that that had been hard. The steward had been loud enough for the entire market to hear and then some.

  Taking the letter, Rayne began to open it as his eyes took in the man before him. The newcomer was not dressed like his usual clientele. Metal bracers covered his arms, and his legs and torso were protected by a thick leather jerkin that covered most of his body. Jutting over his left shoulder, the butt of what appeared to be a crossbow could be seen, the rest of it hidden behind his thick midsection. From the looks of it, he must be an adventurer, and a quick glance at the envelope confirmed his suspicions.

  The document in his hands showed that this fellow had taken a job to chase away an infestation of giant rats that had nested in one of the local farmer’s barns. There was the signature and stamp approving the quest from the guild alongside another signature and stamp from the guard signifying its completion. At the bottom of the envelope was written the pay of six silver and twenty-five copper.

  That was more than Rayne earned in a whole day, all for one job! And for the simple act of killing rats! Rayne shook his head. Life simply wasn’t fair.

  The adventurer coughed meaningfully once again, drawing Rayne out of the contemplative silence he was not even aware he had entered. Like many children, he had entertained dreams of adventuring in his youth. The freedom to go where he wished, without need for classes or stuffy tutors. The glory and praise won with one’s sword arm, rather than a perfect score on the most recent test. And of course, there was the pay. His eyes strayed to the letter in his hands, which gripped the paper slightly tighter. Yes, the pay.

  Remembering himself, Rayne hurriedly collected his thoughts. “Sorry. I’ll go and grab your coin from the magister." He stood up and gave the adventurer a quick bow, just to be safe.

  Letter in hand, he walked past the other clerks, each busy with their own more normal customers. Some were writing out letters for commoners; conversely, others were reading letters out. The majority, though, were interacting with nobles one way or another. All around him, his coworkers toiled away, hands moving quickly as they paid out salaries, collected fines, and processed documentation.

  Occasionally, just as it had been for him, some noble would appear to give them a dressing down for some perceived slight or because their luxury wines were taxed at a two percent higher increment than last year. They would put on a polite face as they weathered the storm, keenly aware that each and every one of their coworkers was glad not to be in their position at the moment.

  Reaching the back of the floor, Rayne made his way to one of the magisters writing down something or another on a ledger hidden just below the lip of the desk.

  “Rayne.” The magister looked up as Rayne interrupted their writing. From the way he shook his wrists, Rayne doubted the man minded too much, and he nodded in recognition.

  “I have an adventurer here for his mission rewards.” He turned himself so that the magister could see the man standing before Rayne’s empty desk.

  The magister peered at him for a moment and then took the adventurer's letter, giving it a quick once over with a practiced eye before reaching under his desk to pull out a large lockbox.

  “Grab his coin.” With that, the magister reluctantly went back to writing, sparing only a quick glance to ensure that Rayne knew not to take more than the allocated amount.

  Technically, this was supposed to be his job, but a lack of funding had left the registrar’s office scrambling, and everyone had to pull their own weight and then some. Left with no other choice, Rayne took out the coins and got to counting.

  For some clerks, it would have been half a minute’s work, making small and neat piles of five to ten coins apiece and multiplying by the pile. His math skills might not have stood out at the Academy, but they were not so weak as to mess up an order of this size. It took Rayne only a few seconds to finish, deft fingers snatching up the requisite coins. And if he had messed up, then the burly adventurer waiting for him at the other counter was sure to let him know.

  On second thought, let’s double check. Ten seconds later, Rayne nodded to himself, satisfied that he had properly accounted for the adventurer’s due. Collecting the coins into a small stack, he grabbed a pouch from one of the many drawers in their office and slid the coins inside, where they jingled happily in their new home.

  Thus finished with the task, Rayne returned to his place, gripping the pouch in front of him as he made his way back to the adventurer.

  When he reached his desk again, he found the adventurer playing his own favorite game of watching the market square from the window. Unlike Rayne, however, the adventurer noted his return, and an easy smile graced his face as his eyes found the jingling pouch that Rayne carried.

  “Good lad, I was almost worried you’d gotten in trouble there for a moment. I’m aware most adventures get their reward from the guild, but given that this was a commission from the city…” His smile faltered for a moment. “It wasn’t an issue, was it?” he asked.

  “No, sir, I was simply making sure that you received the proper amount,'' Rayne replied coolly.

  The adventurer's smile returned as Rayne quickly signed his name on the mission envelope, marking that the job had been paid before handing it back.

  With the purse now firmly in hand, the adventurer gave Rayne one final nod before departing, his armor looking rather dusty in the sunlight as he exited the registrar’s office out into the sunlit square of the market proper.

  Rayne sighed and looked back out the window. As the adventurer came into sight below their office, he idly wondered if they were now the richest in the market.