The tavern stood blanketed in darkness, foreboding light eeping from its windows as if daring those brave enough to step inside. From just outside its doors, a young boy, couldn't be older than ten, listened to the voices, snores, and moans that resonated from within. A full house, many drunk or up-stairs with the tavern girls for company. Not the type of place that a child should visit, but never the less, the boy stepped in.

A dimly lit chandelier hung from the ceiling with an overbearing scent of incense swirling through the air, most likely to drown out the smell of years worth of customer vomit. The boy looked around. Tables that looked well beyond their date lay empty or overturned with only a few holding barely conscious men, each wearing plated armor and looking as if they'd been living in the wild for years.

"'Bandits? No, mercenaries. But why here?'" The boy shook the thoughts from his head. Irrelevant. He was here for one reason only.

He pulled a seat at the tavern's bar, the keeper's attention suddenly on him. He raised an eyebrow but the boy produced a few bits of diamond from his pocket. The tavern keep nodded then disappeared from sight to the back of the bar. The boy waited but felt the eyes of his neighbor scan him with intrigue. He'd seen him on his approach, a young man, looked around nineteen, dressed in a leather tunic with a cheaply bought cavalry pants and pair of hunting boots. A well endowed elven tavern girl with long blond hair sat on his lap and his face made it obvious that he'd been drinking for quite some time.

The boy paid him no attention, but he still felt his eyes stare at him instead of his consort, even as the tavern keep returned with a meager plate of food. A corncob, a scarp of meat, and a slice of bread, definitely not enough to fill a belly, but the boy's stomach growled for it regardless. Slowly, he began to eat, savoring every bite as if it were his last.

"What's your name, boy?" The man asked

He paused for only a moment but continued to eat in silence

"Just another Jack." Answered the tavernkeeper as he helped the weary girl from the man's lap. "A lot of kids on the streets give themselves crazy names. Once had one proclaim from atop a table that his name was River King."

Silence followed as the tavernkeeper led his girl to her room, the only sound being the small crunches the boy made as he ate.

"Still not going to answer?" The man continued, only to be met with more silence, "Fine. So be it. In any case, allow me to introduce my self. You may call me Liam" He paused taking a sip of his ale before he spoke again, "So tell me, Jack. What's it like to live on the streets of Deimos?"

"What's it to you," he replied taking a bite from his scrap of beef

"Just curious to know. The empire isn't a very forgiving place to people like you." a pause "Funny, whenever I think of what parents tell their children when they ask for stories about knights and kingdoms, I can only ever see them telling of a disgustingly sugar-coated story of princesses locked away in towers and the brave fools who rescue her from the dragon.” He sneered, “Not a single word is spoken of the pillaging and murder, of the villages they burned or the innocent maidens they violated, the rivers filled to the banks with blood all in the name of their quest for the 'glorious kingdom'.”

“Wouldn't know,” Jack replied still biting at his food

“Of course you wouldn't. You already know the truth.” Liam continued, “Be that as it may, no amount of sugar-coating would ever be able to disguise the Empire of Deimos. Known as far as the winds could carry as an empire of butchers and manslayers, it does well at living up to its savage reputation.

The motto 'the strong lived and the weak died' drilled into the hearts of all who set foot in this land and evident everywhere you looked. Arenas were always howling with carnage and filled with gore, their prisoners forced to fight each other in the hopes that they would live to see freedom, only to find themselves pressed among the army's ranks. Ambitious men crafting metal marvels of dreams, yet unmoved by the suffering they caused.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Jack glimpsed as his unwanted drinking buddy produced a small diamond from his pants pocket and begin closely inspecting it.

“ And, most importantly, let's not forget about the diamonds,” he said, before slamming it onto the counter. “ These rocks, the very backbone of the Empire's trade, mined with the spilled blood of those men who slave away in pitch-black caverns below, only to have them be sold by the hands of even blacker-hearted folk for their own ends. Just like my brother.”

His face contorted in anger at the mention of his brother, something Jack took note of as he swallowed the last bite of his food. He began to rise from his seat, only to find Liam's hand holding him back

“You know who I am a kid?” He asked, almost sounding like a plea

“Should I care?”

He honestly looked hurt by his words

"My.... title is the third son of High count Raymond Fruteam, Liam Fruteam. I'm sure that even you must have heard of me."

"No," Jack replied, trying to end the discussion before it began

The response seemed to irk him just a bit, but he smiled through it, "My family helps this empire grow strong. When a village is captured or a city conquered, we are there to make sure that those inhabitants know who it is that is in charge. When civil unrest is present, or a rebellion begins to brew, we are the ones to cut it out before it bursts." Jack felt as he squeezed down hard on his arm, but showed him no discomfort "If not for us for us, then this empire would have destroyed itself from the inside-out, like cancer."

"If you want to pretend that you're some big shot enforcer, then why are you in a seedy little place like this?" Jack half snarled

To his surprise, Liam shot him a brief smile, maybe happy that he finally got him to take an interest. "I would've had father kill you if you'd been my subordinate, but I like you, Jack." He said, finally freeing his arm.

Taking a breath, he continued, "Well my boy, to put it simply, I was disgraced." a pause as he bitterly looked down at the counter, "A scheme my own brother cooked up. Hired some nobleman's daughter to wait for me in my room naked. She walked in and she started screaming for the guards. Not even two days went by before my father threw me to the streets."

Liam gave a slight snicker before turning to him "But you don't give a damn do you?"

He allowed his silence to answer for him. He rose from his seat and began walking for the door, only to be stopped by the sound of Liam chuckling darkly.

"Before we part, let me give you a piece of advice, Jack my boy," Liam said, "Be it through ferocity, cunning, or just plain insanity, if you want to survive, you would have to fight.

"So then come fight for me, my boy. I will personally see to it that you escape the streets. This hell of a life you have will all seem like some sort of bad dream as you revel in wine, wealth, and women." He smiled and from the back of his trousers, he produced a small bag, bulging from its contents and stamped with what looked like the seal of a House. He pushed it into the young boy's other hand and nodded

"A bag of-" Jack gave the contents a brief look through "-berries?"

"Serve me, and all this, along with so much more will be yours." He said, a strange sincerity to his words

Jack gave him another look over. If his story was true, then Liam looked like he'd fallen a long way from being a blood member of a House as important as his. But even in spite of it all, Liam looked determined, ready, even while completely drunk. While others may have groveled to retain their place or cried while wallowing in their misfortune, he looked ready to fight and take back is life. Jack didn't doubt that he had a plan in mind to restore his name and establish himself, that any man who followed him would be rewarded for their loyalty.

Jack chuckled, "No"

Whether it was from the alcohol or his answer, Liam looked ready to fall over, "What?" his surprise boiling over into anger, "Are you, daft child. Why ever the hell not?"

He looked him in his eyes, his stare so deathly cold you could see the frost. "I am no one's slave" And with that, Liam turned and in one motion, throated the rest of his ale, got out of his seat, and stomped off to his room.

Jack smirked and pulled the diamond from his pants, the very diamond Liam had flaunted. Men like Liam used words and money to make people like him their pawns. This life of a thief might be wretched, but it was his and he was proud. He was nobody's pawn. Re-pocketing the diamond, we walked to the door but paused right before he opened it.

Eyes. There were eyes on him and the were staring at him as if to try and peek into his soul. It made him nervous, but he shrugged the feeling aside and turned back to the bar. The gaze was coming from the top of the stairs, yet as he turned to look, the eyes were gone, and no-one was there. Jack let out a huff. He'd been in here too long already, it was time to go join the shadows.