Title: Very Professional
Rating: T
Warnings: Alcohol, mild language, Matt's terrible manners
Genre: Humor
It was all hands on deck in the bar that evening. Men and women from all walks of life had come together for a night of drinking and merriment, seeking to escape the chilly darkness of the snowy night outside. Servers and patrons shuffled between tables and haphazardly placed chairs and stools, carrying cups and flagons of ale, or platters of food. The bartenders dutifully drew more drink as they were called, and raucous laughter and shouts could be heard from every direction. The air was thick with the smokey stench of the cook fires and the musk of many bodies. Every little while, a crash sounded as a drunken patron missed their step or chair, before being discretely escorted from the taproom by one of a pair of muscled men. Through it all, a few musicians provided jaunty music from a tabletop in one corner, instrument boxes open and overflowing with coins.
It was into this chaos that the tavern door opened once more, allowing a frigid gust of air and a flurry of snow to sweep into the room before being cut off. A nervous young man hesitated at the edge of the crowd by the door, rubbing his cold hands together and eyeing the shuffle of patrons and staff. He'd come here hoping to find someone to retrieve the ingredients he required from a few monsters. Normally, he asked the local guild for supply retrievals, but the rates had shot up for the winter months, and he couldn't wait until spring for the ingredients he needed. As he watched a pair of men suddenly topple over a bench to brawl openly on the floor, he wondered if finding a single sober soul might not be even more rare and costly than the monster parts.
He edged around the bouncers breaking up the brawl, and sidled along the wall to reach the bar. Luckily, it seemed the barkeeps were beginning to wind down, as they were actively sealing bottles and kegs for storage. A roar form the crowd as the latest song came to an end had him jumping into a patron seated on one of the stools, and he barely kept his feet as he was shoved away. He hurriedly slid a foot further away and began trying to flag down one of the servers. It took shouting above the din to get one of their attentions, but soon a harried middle-aged man leaned over the bar.
"I'm looking for any mercenaries capable of retrieving dragon fangs and scales! Do you know if any are here now?" he half-shouted.
The bartender cocked his head in curiosity, but didn't press. "Bad time of year to be asking, but you're in luck. We actually have one of the best around drinking with us tonight. See that blond man? Over there in the corner." He pointed across the room to a single man clearly involved in a drinking contest with five other patrons. "That's Matt. He'll be able to get whatever you need."
The younger man eyed the unsteady wobble Matt gave as he drained his tankard followed swiftly by a second one with three more drinks waiting at his elbow. "My gods. Is he even going to live the night?"
The bartender laughed. "Matt'll be fine, though I can't say the same for his competition! We've already cut that table off for the night, so now's a good time to talk to him."
With a nod and a skeptical frown, the young man bid the bartender a goodnight before picking his way through the crowd. By the time he reached the table, the drinking contest was nearly over, and two of the participants looked ready to throw up, while a third was slumped over the wooden table by an empty tankard. Matt and the final contestant, a young woman, had their eyes locked as they chugged with a notable decrease of speed. Both were flushed from alcohol, and for a moment, it seemed they might tie. Then the woman blanched and tossed her remaining drink away as she shoved her chair back in a mad scramble. She tripped and the sound of retching came from under the table.
"And tha's fuh-five!" Matt drunkenly crowed, banging his empty tankard down. He grinned lopsidedly as he fumbled to drag a small pile of gold coins closer.
The woman came up incoherently slurring what their onlooker assumed were curses before an irate server came over with bucket and mop, and pointedly shoved her towards the door. The new woman scowled at Matt.
"You always do this!" she snapped, violently slopping at the mess under the table.
"'M s'rry."
"Sure you are. Next time, you're cleaning up the mess, Matt. Pardon me, sir." The last part was to the disturbed man hovering by the table. She then turned her full attention and mutters to her cleaning, leaving Matt grinning somewhat stupidly at his new guest.
"Come t'- t'… wassthe word? Chug?" Matt asked, leaning against the table. He shoved the unconscious man beside him off his chair and offered it to the newcomer, ignoring the indignant splutters from the serving girl.
"No, thank you," the man replied, perching himself delicately on the edge of the vacated chair.
He studied Matt's attire. It didn't look like anything a skilled mercenary would wear. The blue shirt had frayed hems and the shadow of a suspicious stain on one side, while the black jacket hanging over the back of the chair bore several visible patches. There were no weapons on his person or in sight, but he supposed that was likely good, given the way Matt seemed to be swaying in his seat. An armed man plus drink seemed like a recipe for disaster, anyway.
Still, if Matt were standing, he would tower over him, and he certainly had the muscled arms required for swinging a weapon around. But would one man be enough to kill a dragon? He reminded himself of his need for rare monster parts, but made a mental note to withhold payment until delivery.
"Prolly a g'd thing. Dunno tha' they'd le' you at this tab'l," Matt chuckled, blissfully unaware of the scrutiny he was under. He stretched his arms before him and cracked his neck. His words were still slurred, but he appraised the man with a startling keenness. "Didja need somethin'? Wha's yer name?"
"Robert," the man introduced, holding out his hand.
Matt shook with drunken enthusiasm. "Nice to meet you Bobert!"
"Robert."
Matt didn't seem to register the correction, but Robert was more focused on the fact that Matt's drunken flush seemed to be rapidly receding. Was that normal for drinkers? Was he going to be expected to help this Matt character out if he suddenly fainted? He didn't want to spend the next several hours scrubbing vomit out of his clothes.
Oblivious to Robert's concern, Matt separated a small pile of coins from his winnings to pay for his table's tab. Once the remainder of the gold had been safely tucked away, he made a small gesture towards Robert.
"So, this doesn't seem like your scene. Were you looking for me specifically?"
Robert blinked twice, marveling at Matt's suddenly sober speech. The man had been slurring not five minutes ago. Had he been faking? If so, then why?
"Hello?"
Robert startled, and shook himself. "Sorry, long day," he hastily excused. "And, no, I wasn't looking for you specifically, but the bartender said you're one of the best?"
"So long as what you want is something killed, destroyed, or retrieved," Matt cheerfully agreed.
"In a manner of speaking. I'm an alchemist, and I recently ran out of several powdered dragon parts. Normally, I'd go to the local fighter's guild to have them retrieve more, but many of their members take the winter off, so the rates go way up."
Matt nodded, but seemed distracted watching as people began stumbling on out of the bar now that the taps had been shut off. "It's harder to fight in the snow; most people can't manage it. Still, that shouldn't be a problem for dragon hunting."
"You would know better than I," Robert replied. He waited a moment, but when Matt didn't seem inclined to continue, he asked with a touch of impatience, "So?"
"So, what?"
"Can you bring back some dragon parts for me, or not?"
Matt's eyes seemed to flash, but then he grinned, and Robert wasn't sure if he'd actually seen anything.
"Sure, shouldn't be hard." He then paused and tilted his head and made a face. "Well, I guess that actually depends on if I can get the others to help, but they should be up to it. Most of them anyway. In fact, why don't we come find you tomorrow? They're better at tracking details than I am."
Robert reluctantly gave the location to his small practice. Matt didn't write it down, nor even asked what he would be paid, or when he needed to deliver the parts, and the alchemist left the bar wondering if maybe the man had still been drunk after all. He supposed he'd just have to wait for tomorrow. If all else failed, he could always shell out the fee to the fighter's guild.
OOOOOO
A light flurry had just blown in when the knock came to his door the following morning. Robert could hear muffled voices talking outside as he undid the latch, but that didn't prepare him for the sight of three fully armed and armored individuals waiting on his stoop. Of them, he only knew Matt, but he hardly recognized the man. Matt's gaze was bright and sharp. Gone were the patched and ragged clothes in favor of full scale armor—formed from enchanted dragon scales, if he wasn't mistaken—under a warm cloak, while an obviously valuable blade hung across his back. Also gone was the drunken wobble and slouch, replaced with confident, easy-going motions. He'd braided the hair on either side of his face—though whether as a statement, or just to keep it from his eyes, Robert didn't know.
Equally surprising was his choice of battle companions. Both were far shorter than him, and both were women.
One had long red hair, tied back with a red silk ribbon that matched what he could see of the red dress under her cloak. Her features seemed almost regal, with large cerulean eyes, and high cheekbones. She looked almost too delicate to be battling dragons. Still, he took note of the staff she gripped in one gloved hand, and knew that the appearances of mages were often deceiving.
The other woman was much shorter than her companions. He assumed she must be from Greenwood, given the green hair and eyes signature of the isolated village. She had an impressively large bow slung over one shoulder, and unlike the other two, wore an outfit of thick brown fur rather than a cloak. Her face was even more delicate than the mage's, younger looking, and Robert found himself nervously wondering if Matt had brought an actual child to battle dragons.
Matt grinned at the man's look of shock. "Hi again, Robert! These are my friends and teammates, Anna and Natalie. We have a fourth member, but he's-"
"An insufferable jerk?" one of the women—the mage—muttered.
The other woman grinned. "It's just for show, Natz. He was complaining that he was short of dragon scales for his next wacky creation just a couple days ago, remember?"
"He'd stand us up just to be difficult, and you know it."
Matt cleared his throat, but his eyes danced with amusement. "He'll be along eventually. It's probably for the best that he's not here, anyway. Lance is a bit of an acquired taste. Can we come in?"
Matt, Natalie, Anna, and Lance. He was sure he'd heard those names somewhere before in connection to Godcat. A local legend, maybe? Perhaps they were simply aliases.
"You get distracted a lot," Matt noted in amusement.
Robert started, and stood back. "Of course, of course. No point having the discussion in the snow. Can I get you anything to drink?"
Matt opened his mouth, but Natalie clapped a hand over it. "No. I'm not helping you through another hangover for at least a week." She turned her eyes to Robert. "No need for refreshments. We'll be out as soon as we know what kind of dragon you need, and what parts. Ice and water dragons are most active right now, of course, but we can find others, if you're worried about elemental contaminations in your experiments."
Robert felt a smile pull at his lips. It was rare to meet someone who actually knew enough of the magic trade to raise such concerns. "Ideally, I'd like the scales from a fire dragon and the fangs from an ice dragon. I'm attempting something using the opposing elements. But if you can only get ice, then I'll table that experiment for later in favor of more seasonally appropriate ones."
Anna scratched the side of her nose. "No worries, I can find anything. Fire dragons like to hang out in the volcanic caverns past Lankyroot this time of year. They'll be fat and lazy, too—easy pickings."
Matt nodded. "I heard there's a bounty out on ice dragons lurking around the Crystal Caverns. Might as well collect two contracts with one trip. Gods know the people in Whitefall won't do anything about the dragons."
"Are they still protesting?" Natalie sighed. "It's been years. Do they even know what they're complaining about anymore?"
"The reason has been different every time I ask, so probably not," Matt laughed. He turned back to Robert. "Anyway, fire and ice dragons. Easy. We'll probably be back in a few days. Will that be soon enough?"
"Will that be-? I was expecting weeks for delivery! The sooner the better!" Robert agreed with startled enthusiasm. "Oh, and please be careful retrieving the scales—I need the membrane on the underside intact."
"There's a something under the scales?" Matt repeated in confusion before shrugging. "Well, I assume Anna can cleanly skin the beast just fine."
"So long as you don't leave it in tatters again," Anna agreed in a dry tone. "Maybe let me, Natalie, and Lance kill the fire dragon."
"You're still assuming Lance is going to show up," Natalie grumbled.
Matt laughed with a shake of his head. "We'll see. Well, we're off to kill some dragons! See you in a few days, Robert!"
The three filed out, leaving behind a baffled alchemist. When he'd first approached Matt, he'd had so many reservations. The man had been a drunken disaster. Never had he thought he would be receiving his ingredients in just a few days. And it would be for so much cheaper than-
"I forgot to ask what they're charging!" Robert cried out to his empty study.
He fretted over that oversight for the next three days. He pooled together what he could from his savings, brewed extra potions to offer, even polished his old alchemy set, in case it would be something of worth to Natalie. All told, it was barely enough to cover the fee had he gone to the fighter's guild.
It was during the early evening on the fourth day as he dug through old trinkets for anything of value that the knock came. It hadn't been the first time someone came knocking since he'd spoken to Matt and his friends, but each time he heard a knock, his heart jumped. With a steadying breath, he opened the door to see Matt grinning with two large sacks over his shoulders. Natalie and Anna stood behind him, also smiling, along with a newcomer—a man in black with red eyes and hair, and an irritated scowl. Robert assumed this was Lance having joined the hunt after all. He mentally started reworking numbers to account for paying a fourth person.
"Come in, pardon the mess" he mumbled, stepping back.
"Hey, Robert," Matt greeted. He set his load down with a solid thump. "We forgot to ask how much you needed. Hope this is good enough."
"Matt, I get that thinking isn't your strong suit, but seriously, how many scales and fangs do you think go into a potion?" Lance growled. "We can make a much larger profit selling half of these to the local merchants."
"Do you make potions, dude? Didn't pick it up in the last twenty-four hours? No? Didn't think so. Robert gets first dibs. If he doesn't want them all, then we can sell the rest."
It sounded like an argument that they had hashed out several times. Natalie and Anna were both smiling in exasperation. But Robert's pulse jumped at the idea of having to match prices from the merchants. Maybe some of the scales would be too damaged for his use, and he could talk the price down, then sell the damaged ones and turn the gold over to them?
He knelt to open the sacks. One was loaded to the bursting with the gleaming silvery-white fangs of ice dragons, more than he'd ever seen in one place. He swallowed heavily and opened the second sack with shaking hands. Piles of scales glittered in the light, expertly removed from the skin with no nicks or imperfections. It was a disaster. Above him, Matt and Lance were still arguing, but he hardly heard.
"Well, if you'd just shown up on time, Anna and I wouldn't have had to prank you!"
"You call leaving a severed dragon arm dangling above my head while I'm sleeping a prank? You nearly took my eye out!"
"How was I supposed to know you'd just leap up like that?!"
"You were hollering that we were under attack! I thought I was about to get squashed! Again!"
Anna snorted a laugh. "Your expression was priceless."
Natalie hid her grin behind her hand. "And to be fair, they didn't actually put your eye out."
"You all suck," Lance snarled.
Matt threw an arm around his shoulders with a wide grin. "Consider it payback for swapping my beer out for gasoline. I actually drank that, too."
Lance's scowl lightened as his lips twitched, and he shrugged Matt's arm off. "You only drank it because you're a nose-blind dumbass. Anyone else would have smelled that it wasn't beer immediately."
"Yeah, yeah. So, Robert, will those work for you?"
Robert jumped. "Uh, well- I- Uh-"
Matt's smile fell some. "Did we not get enough? Or maybe, did Anna screw up skinning them?"
Anna hit him for the remark.
"No! There's plenty here, more than enough—way more than enough, actually. And they're in excellent condition."
"So, what's the problem?" Lance drawled. "And I would just like to say: I told you so, Matt."
"Whatever, man."
Robert ignored the byplay, his shoulders slumping. "I don't have nearly enough gold to pay you."
Matt arched a brow. "Wait, I thought you were just gonna give us some potions, or something. I mean, don't get me wrong, we'll take whatever gold you're offering, but usually people just pay us with whatever they have lying around, or by making something out of the leftovers."
"Or shoving food in his hands," Anna added with a laugh. "Matt is easily bought."
"Yeah, Matt's beyond cheap," Lance sighed. He glared at Matt. "Hence why I wanted to sell some of these to the merchant."
"Dude, you got what you needed from the dragons, so what the hell do you need the gold for?"
"Like you've ever turned down gold even once in your life."
"You just want a few potions?" Robert slowly asked in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair, slowly relaxing, but still skeptical. "You killed a dragon, and all you want are some potions."
"Twelve dragons, actually, but yeah," Matt agreed. "It really wasn't that big of a deal. We only had to go to two places, and the fire dragons were practically asleep."
Robert shook his head. "Do you have any idea what the going rate is for a dragon hunt?" Then he realized what he was saying, and hastily waved his hands. "You know what, never mind. Tell you what, come to me any time you need potions, and I'll stock you up, free of charge."
"Sweet, we get a dealer this time!"
"Gods, Matt, could you have phrased that any worse? He's not going to give us drugs," Natalie scolded.
"Well, actually, I do stock a number of narcotics and hallucinogens."
Natalie shot Robert a glare. "Don't you dare give him any ideas. We have a bad enough time keeping him from downing whatever 'shroom he finds. In fact, Lance, why don't you take Matt outside. I think he has something of yours stashed in his adventure pouch anyway."
Lance turned a dark look on Matt. "Oh, does he now?"
Matt gulped, and scowled at Natalie. "You are such a snitch."
He bolted from the room with Lance hot on his tail, fingers actively loading his gunblade. Robert stood flabbergasted behind them, staring between the open door and the two women who remained behind.
"Sorry about all that," Anna apologized as she shut the door. "Neither of them is really fit for polite company."
Robert nodded dazedly. "I… see." He shook himself and bustled over to his workbench. "I brewed some powerful restoratives as part of the payment. I haven't had time to make anything else. Is there something specific you need? I can have it ready by sundown tomorrow, if it isn't complicated."
Natalie accepted the potions with a warm smile. "These will do for now, but if you could make a few mana potions, I'll be by to grab them tomorrow. I'm interested in your experiment, too, if you don't mind me watching."
"Miss Natalie, for those scales, you can watch and have a copy of my notes when I'm done."
"Just Natalie is fine. Thank you, Robert, I'll be back in the morning! And thank you for the generous payment. Having a guaranteed supplier for remedies is a huge help. Let us know if you need anything else retrieved. We've had a lot of down time ever since the whole Godcat debacle, and Matt gets extra destructive when he's bored."
Robert briefly paused in the process of putting away the scales and fangs at the mention of Godcat. He knew the four were connected to some tale related to the goddess. He opened his mouth to ask, but then thought better of it. It seemed rude to ask about something that was apparently common knowledge. One of his colleagues likely knew the story, anyway. Instead he bobbed his head.
"I'll keep that in mind, thank you. So I'll see you tomorrow then?" At Natalie's nod, he beamed. "Very well, have a good evening, and pass my thanks on to the men."
The women headed out with cheerful waves, leaving a relieved and baffled alchemist behind. That had been the strangest transaction he'd ever made. Who in the world just accepted whatever was on hand as a reward for killing dragons? Well, apparently Matt did, with his friends all humoring him. How in the world they functioned in battle given their interactions in just the short time they'd been in his store, would likely remain a mystery, however.
OOOOOO
"You got the Matt, Natalie, Anna and Lance to bring you dragon scales? The god-slayers, masters of combat themselves?"
Robert blinked at his fellow alchemist. "They're god-slayers?"
A/N: It's been a while! I had the random idea for this while driving home one day, and just had to write it. Hope you enjoyed, and please leave a review! I haven't edited this at all, so there are likely quite a few errors.
