#Lazlo Imbani

[the-sun-hawks]

Chapter 2: Phillian Days

(Apologies for the absence)

To the east, the mountainous region of Lyska, home to a majority of the Elven strider clans, and ruled by the controversial Vatham family that had risen to power during the border war. Though there has been peace for nearly two decades, the checkpoints at the Lyskan border sit far more heavily guarded, the names of every visitor either coming from or heading to Lyska taken down. To the west, the rolling sands of Gwann, known for both their healers of unmatched skill and their religious practice of raising the dead. 

Phillia itself stands unique. From the architecture to the clothing the people wear and the languages they speak, the city is touched by all the cultures surrounding it and built with the influence of all those who have flowed through it. An Elf wearing a light and flowing Gwasari robe to combat the afternoon heat while speaking the quick and energetic Darian tongue. A Turisian Dwarf letting a pointy eared child ride on their shoulders while they eat gilini bread, a sticky spicy fried honey bread brought as street food by the refugees of Klannossia. No two streets are the same, no two sights similar, ever changing, always surrounded by the unfamiliar and unexpected. It is just how Hawk liked it. 

“Uncle Hawk, Aunty Vae!” Temrin, a young boy not much older than five with dirty blonde hair, dirt smeared over his face along with his hands and knees. Vae clucks her tongue and hands off the reins so she can bend down to pick up the boy, playfully flicking his nose. “What are you doing, Temrin, shouldn’t you be with Edmund?” she asks as the boy grins, his ears turning red with excitement as he nods. 

“Snuck out as someone was opening the door,” Temrin says, his hands going to his hips as he nods in accomplishment. Hawk shakes his head. 

“Your mother is going to kill me if she finds out that you're with me, Temrin. She’ll think I've been in town the whole day and have had you up to no good and we don’t want that do we?” Hawk says, ruffling the boy's hair before looking at Vae. “Meet at The Last Stop? I’ll get the pay from Bosco and pay him off, take the rest to Laslo and Jerek.”

“Don’t forget Laslo’s cut.”

“I know, just take Temrin home before Alara goes on a rampage and kills Edmund for not paying attention.” He points a finger at the boy again, making Temrin grin. “And you stay out of trouble for the rest of the day. We don’t want Old Edmund to get his beard in a twist do we?” Hawk asks, nodding as Temrin shakes his head. “Good. I’ll tell you about the job when I get to The Last Stop for the evening. Deal?” Hawk says, turning his pointing hand into one to shake, Temrin taking it and adopting as stoic a look as a child can have as he nods again. 

“Deal.”

Vae shakes her head at Hawk as she takes the boy into the city, setting him down to walk alongside her. He begins rattling off all sorts of questions to Vae which Hawk hears her dodge by asking a question of her own, Temrin rambling an answer until they are both well out of sight of Hawk. 

Hawk heads further into the city, towards the temples and The Hall of Blades guardpost. Devout followers of Almar, The God of Blades, The Hall of Blades acts as Daria's primary religious authority. They are also the only official enforcers of the law within Phillia. The Hall of Blades takes its job of protection very seriously, though their protection is extended only to those who can match their devotion with a generous donation, leaving the street justice to common citizens.

In the cultural heart of Phillia the temples are as diverse as the rest of the city, from the monolithic dark structure of the Lyskan cathedrals to the squat and long Gwasari prayer halls dedicated to Klessos and Hanara. Even still, The Hall of Blades guardpost stands out as the gaudiest and most opulent building in the entirety of Phillia. An extravagant building of marble with golden ornamentation, the exterior of the guard post is decorated with carefully cultivated plants. Inside, the floors are shining marble and even shiner ornamental blades hang from the walls. The members walk through the guard post with flawless plate armor and blades polished to a high shine too. Hawk is overwhelmed by just how shiny the guard post is every time he is forced to sit in front of Master Blade Caller Bosco Theoin, the commander of the post and the one who personally handled every ‘donation’ that came into The Hall.

Bosco is a middle-aged gentleman, rough-faced with a long scar over one cheek, his long brown hair tied into a fierce ponytail at the back of his head, and his trimmed beard filled with more white than brown. He has a stare that could curdle milk too, though he reserved it for Hawk and Hawk alone. “You have the head?” The Blade Caller asks, his eyes flicking to the sack that by this point has been stained through a dull reddish brown. It immediately starts to stain the Blade Caller’s magnificently polished rosewood desk as Hawk sets it down.

“When have I ever not grabbed the head for you, Bosco?,” Hawk says, patting the sack as Bosco rolls his eyes, looking to another member of The Hall and waving his hand towards the sack. The man frowns but nods, taking it in his hands and disappearing out the door of the office, closing it behind him. 

“One and a half thousand half pieces of five for one Hammond the Foul,” Bosco mutters, looking down at his ledger and beginning to mark something down before Hawk produces the page he’d stolen from Hammond’s desk and puts it in front of him. 

“Maybe a bonus for that information. Looks like Hammond was in touch with some kind of order, the kind that could get him a whole regiment of troops. Might be worth looking into.” 

Bosco scoffs, taking the page up into his hands and reading it, his doubtful face slowly becoming more frustrated and concerned. He folds the page and sets it in the ledger, closing it as he stands. “One thousand, seven hundred and fifty pieces of five, minus the one hundred for your donation, leaves you with a payout of one thousand, six hundred and fifty pieces of five for the death of Hammond the Foul and the information regarding his connection to a potential insurrectionist order.” 

Bosco turns his back on Hawk, striding over to the large safe to retrieve several bags of coin, taking some out of one and slipping them into a pouch on his belt. He turns back to Hawk and drops the coin in front of him. 

“You need to keep that boy Temrin on a leash, Adahji. If he keeps following in your footsteps he’s going to end up a miscreant. It’d be a shame to throw him in prison after serving with his father for so many years, you yourself could learn how to address someone above your station.” Bosco says, leaning on the desk and looking down his nose at Hawk. Hawk stands and begins gathering the sacks of coins, ignoring Bosco’s warnings. “And that Osiros fellow and his school. If King Ducas wasn’t so fond of the man after having him as his bodyguard for so long I would begin to question why we need a Blademaster loaning out his skills to anyone who has the money to pay, or to any stray that’s willing to work with him for an afternoon.”

“Sorry for the stain on your desk, Bosco,” Hawk says, gesturing towards the puddle now starting to dry before he turns and begins to walk out of the office. He shuts the door of the office with a nice, satisfying thud. He looks to the man standing beside the door and scoffs, rolling his eyes as he gestures towards the door leading into Bosco’s office. 

“Is he always such an insufferable prick?” Hawk asks. The man clears his throat and looks just slightly away from Hawk. “I suppose that's an answer enough.” 

Hawk sighs before turning away from the office and heading out of The Hall of Blades and towards Laslo Imbani and Jerek Banking. L&J Banking doesn’t look like a bank, not even a sign in front of the building. Laslo Imbani isn’t the kind of person to carry a layman’s money, and Jerek certainly isn't the kind of man to count the money of someone he doesn’t like. Their bank is meant for people like Hawk and Vae, people with large sums of money that they want to protect from the likes of Blade Caller Bosco Theoin who would raid banks and homes for so-called donations towards The Hall. 

Hawk hardly has the chance to knock twice before the door opens, revealing a man whose head is hidden by the shorter height of the doorframe he stands behind. “Name?”

“Hawk Olier. I see you haven’t gotten a taller door yet Jerek.”

Jerek leans down to peer at him, a half-giant man whose bright yellow eyes are framed by the intricate swirling tattoos most Gwasari people have, smiles the beaming pearly white smile that only Jerek could give. 

“Bird-man! You live!” Jerek shouts, ducking out of the building to throw his arms around Hawk and lift him, his back popping as Jerek squeezes him in a tight hug. “You live and you bring Laslo money, yes?” 

He sets Hawk down on the ground and squatting to be at his height, pats his head as Hawk rolls his shoulders and nods. 

“Yes, Jerek, I have money to give to you and Laslo. Can I come in?” 

“Yes, Hawk, please come in!” a far quieter and shriller voice than that of Jerek’s calls from inside the bank. Jerek moves out of the way of the door and begins shoving Hawk into the building, probably considering it a gentle push. 

Laslo Imbani is short, even for a dwarf. When he gathers with his brethren for tea or the holidays he stands at least four inches shorter than the shortest of them. His glasses are the only thing about him that could be considered big, thick-rimmed and heavy things that made his eyes the size of teacups as he looked up at Hawk, a wide smile on his face as he holds his hands up in anticipation. 

“Hammond the Foul, one thousand seven hundred and fifty pieces for the head of the bandit group leader and the information about his apparent connection with an insurrection,” Hawk says, setting the bags of coins on the counter and pushing them towards Laslo. “Minus a hundred for the donation to the Hall of Blades, and minus another hundred to you and Jerek for your continued service of protecting Vae and I’s coin.”  

“That’s what I like to hear my boy! Yes indeed one hundred to me and Jerek, yes indeed!” Laslo says, leveraging himself up onto the counter so he can pat Hawk’s shoulder before falling back down on the stool he’d been standing on behind it. “A two hundred and fifty coin of five bonus, that must have been some information you found for that horse-apple eater Bosco to give out.”

“Hammond was in bed with some kind of Order that promised him a whole regiment of trained soldiers. Bosco seemed all kinds of frustrated to see that, more than likely because he’ll have to go to his superiors in the capital with it.”

Laslo scoffs, waving his hands as he tosses away a bag he’d been emptying of its contents. “He’s more likely to send out more bounty hunters to deal with them before he’ll bite the blade and call for the capital's help. But that just means-"

“More money for us,” Hawk finishes, earning another one of Laslo’s smiles, the small man breaking out into a small dance as he counts under his breath. Jerek joins him at the counter and begins to do the same, though far faster and far more accurately than Laslo can manage. Laslo throws his hands up after a moment, grumbling and looking to Jerek once he realizes the half-giants count is more accurate than his, then hops up onto the counter and throws his arm around Hawk’s neck. 

“For once, young man, I don’t have any jobs for you. So relax for a while, take a vacation and maybe help your father run the bar for a few days. I’m sure Mistress Mournshaw will find work by finding something to steal in one of the grand houses in the meantime.”

“For your sake Laslo, I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear you call Vae ‘Mistress’ and not tell her that you said that. You’re a good banker and friend, it’d be a shame to lose you after the three years of good business that the two of us have had.”

Laslo laughs, patting Hawk on the back of the neck and nodding before hopping onto his stool behind the counter and then down onto the floor. “That’s why I like you boy, you know exactly what to say and when. Much better than your father ever was while we were together.”

“Didn’t Edmund send flowers?”

“Hyacinths! I hate hyacinths! They make my nose run like no one's business and if Edmund ever paid attention he’d have known that,” Laslo shouts, smacking Hawk’s knee as he passes by him and moves towards the entrance of the bank, Hawk following behind him shortly after he passes. 

“Well, at least he’s trying to make up.” 

“Bah, deaf ears and all that. I’ve moved on,” Laslo says, reaching for the lower of the two handles on the door and yanking it to open the door for Hawk, patting Hawk on the knee as he exits. “L&J banking is my new muse now, and this one doesn’t talk in any other language besides money, which is something I’m more than fluent in. Plus I don’t have to worry about hyacinths," Laslo says with a little trill of a laugh, waving to Hawk as he closes the door behind him.

“I’ll be sure you and Vae receive your proper shares in your accounts! Have a good day!” Laslo calls through the closed door, followed closely by a “Bye Bird-Man!” from Jerek. 

Relieved from the weight of the sacks of coin, Hawk takes a detour to stroll through Magic Alley, so called because every time someone would leave the long market road, their money would magically be gone, either spent or stolen. Thankfully, the last time someone had tried to grab Hawk’s coin purse it had been Vae and he’d earned a reputation among the sneak thieves as somebody not worth the effort of robbing. 

The market is busy with hawkers and customers and pickpockets, and he slows to peruse the kiosks. The gilini bread stall manned by the old Adahji that lived near The Last Stop. The Turisian metalsmith whose shop always smelled like heat, polish, and soot. The vivid fabrics in an array of colors and patterns that hang in the stall of the Darian seamstress who always insists that Hawk should try something new beyond the reds and browns he usually wore. He fiddles with the nicknacks of merchants from all across the continent, buying a spinning top for Temrin along the way as well as some sweets for Alara.

He turns off Magic Alley and walks on towards The Last Stop and the more populated region of the city. The tavern and inn is an old Big House meant to hold one of the richer families that had been settled here before the border skirmishes. Nestled right on the borders of all three countries, the border checkpoints less than a mile from the tavern itself, the name is apt for the bar. It is The Last Stop that most make before heading further into Daria, or heading back across the border to Turia or Lyska. 

Stepping inside the bar itself is like a breath of fresh air to Hawk. There is the quiet buzz of talking and laughter from the patrons, and the musicians play on the raised stage by the signature long mahogany counter. The tavern is warm with the afternoon light shining through the windows. Even with most of the space taken up by tables, it is easy enough to move through the room to the bar, though you are still liable to get something spilled on you by a rowdy patron if you’re not careful. Edmund has slowly been gathering the finely made furniture of dark stained wood over the years, much of which is starting to show wear and scuff marks from his lively customers. Shelves line the wall behind the bar, showing off both some of the least and most expensive liquors on the continent, and manning the counter is, of course, Edmund himself. 

Sporting a shaved bald head and quite possibly the best looking red beard in all of Daria, Edmund is the owner and proprietor of The Last Stop Tavern. An ex-soldier, he retired soon after the fall of Klannossia when he’d adopted Hawk and used the pay he’d saved to buy the Big House and convert it into the tavern. 

“Edmund! Something sweet if you wouldn’t mind,” Hawk says, striding up to the bar and leaning against it, the Dwarf looking through him with those eternally disgruntled eyes of his. 

“Job go smooth?” Edmund asks, leaning down to reach beneath the bar, bringing up a sweet brandy and sliding the whole bottle across the bar to Hawk. 

“Could have gone smoother, but all I got was a sore face and a nauseous stomach from the gods damned horse,” Hawk says, uncorking the bottle of brandy and reaching behind the counter to grab two glasses, pouring one for himself and another for Edmund. “Got a bonus too, which means we actually got the full pay for the job plus some.”

“Bosco took it for his donations did he?” Edmund asks, downing the shot in one gulp, making Hawk raise a brow as he nods. 

“He did, some of it anyway. The other portion of it went to Laslo for his cut on the bank and things. Are you okay? You’re not sipping like you usually do when you’re manning the counter," Hawk asks, looking around the bar for a moment, trying to spot any troublesome customers.

“Alara and that boy of hers,” Edmund grumbles, grabbing the bottle and pouring another glass for himself, slugging this one back just as fast as he’d done the first. “I appreciate you and Vae trying to save my hide from being tanned but Alara was staring *at* the door when Vae came in with the boy.”

“Ah,” Hawk says, nodding again as he raises his glass towards Edmund in sympathy before taking a sip of it. “I suppose she pulled your ear and gave you a pretty stern talking too then?” Hawk tries to hide his grin behind taking another drink of the brandy.

“I let you do the same thing when you were a boy! You grew up just fine!”

“Edmund. Father,” Hawk says, setting his glass down and raising his hand to count with his fingers. “I was arrested by The Blade Callers before I was sixteen. I tried to rob Old Man Osiros, and when he started training me I was causing more fights than I ever had before, even if most of them I won. Not to mention that now my best friend is an exiled thief. I kill people for a living during a time of peace. I have been arrested more times than I have fingers and toes combined, some of those by the late husband of the woman I am intimate with and whose son I’m helping raise. I would hardly call that a ‘good’ upbringing.”

Edmund scoffs, pouring his third glass but sipping this one as he listens to Hawk, some of the brandy trickling down into his beard and mustache as he drinks before he finally throws up his hands. “Fine, fine. But you’re my boy so I have to take some pride in how you’ve grown, even if you ended up being a real asshole.”

Hawk smiles at that, downing his brandy and sliding the glass towards Edmund as he stands up straight. “Need any help tonight or in the next week or so? Laslo doesn’t have any jobs for us and Bosco didn’t mention anything before I left.”

“You could convince Alara not to string me up when she’s done scolding Temrin. Otherwise, no. You and Vae have been working hard the past few months, you deserve a good rest,” Edmund says, putting the glasses and the brandy away. “Vae says that you can find her in the usual place if you need her, I guess she has some new information on something she’d like to snag.” 

Hawk chuckles, rapping on the bar with his knuckles as he nods before turning and wading into the tavern proper. Some of the patrons recognize him and offer a cheered greeting while others recognize him and thumb the swords on their hips or the daggers nestled in their sleeves. The patrons themselves didn’t matter to Hawk, there were new faces every day in The Last Stop and seldom enough time to get to know any of them aside from the few locals.

The people he actually pays attention to are the tavern's employees, the people who had been working for years, like the old man singing on the stage. Nasir had been one of the first employees hired by Edmund, a traveling artist who’d been looking for a place to stay and work for as long as work was available. He’d been living and singing in The Last Stop ever since. When Hawk was a child, Nasir had been the one to watch him when Edmund had stepped out for an evening or had to travel for a few days, as well as the one to help teach Hawk how to read and write. 

“His songs remain decisively mediocre.” A woman's husky voice lined with sarcasm and barely restrained laughter. Hawk turns to Alara, his hands uncrossing from his chest and opening in an attempt to wrap her in a hug, though she stops him with a flick to his nose. Alara turns that finger into a pointing one on Hawk, her face bemused as she starts to speak again. “Did you really think sending Vae’lin in with Temrin rather than both of you would do anything to protect you and Edmund?” 

“Protect me? What did I do?” Hawk asks, his arms crossing again as he bends forward to be eye level with her, her finger nearly touching his nose as she continues to point at him, her hazel eyes still locked with his. 

“You didn’t come here immediately after getting into town, that's what you did, Olier,” she says, her finger moving to grab the collar of Hawk’s coat, keeping him in that bent position. “Vae said you had to go see Bosco and Laslo first. She could have gone and done what you needed to do while you brought Temrin back. You know she doesn’t like staying here for long so I hardly had the chance to have a conversation with her before she bolted out the upstairs window," she says, letting go of his coat with a small shove and mimicking his crossed arms. 

Hawk raises his hands in defeat, letting out a quiet laugh as he stands straight again. “That’s fair enough I suppose, but I had the head so I figured I may as well get it done myself and let Vae fuck off to whatever she wants to do while we wait for our next job. Besides…” he reaches into his sash and retrieves the small pouch of candies he’d bought back in the market district, handing them to her. “I did get you your usual bribe.”

Alara’s eyes light up in delight as she snatches the pouch and quickly opens it to pop one of the hard candies into her mouth with a pleased hum. “Apology accepted,” she mumbles around the candy, placing the pouch of candy into a pocket of her dress before looping her arm with one of his, beginning to pull him up the stairs. 

“You have to wait for your next job? Is Laslo still negotiating the price on one?” Alara asks. 

Hawk shakes his head. “No, Laslo just doesn’t have one right now and If Bosco did he would have said something before I left. The man may hate me but he knows we get the job done whenever he gives us one. So we have at least a few days away from not needing to hunt down dangerous criminals that the crown wants dead.”

“Good,” Alara says, her grip on his arm getting noticeably tighter. Her head rests on his shoulder as they crest the second set of stairs and make it to the third floor. “You and Vae have been missed here.” 

“I missed you too,” Hawk says, moving to kiss the top of her head as they make it to the end of the hall to Hawk’s room. “Are you done for the evening? Do you have someone watching Temrin?” Hawk asks as he unlocks his door and attempts to keep the grin from his face. 

Alara laughs, smacking his arm before tugging on his coat collar again, planting a kiss on his lips and she pulls him into the room as the door opens. “Did you really think I would be here with you if there was anything else that needed my attention for the rest of the night, Hawk Olier? And here I was thinking that you were more than just a pretty face.”