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Wren liked working the afternoon and evening shift in the tavern. Sure, it could get awful rowdy some nights, more than once the city guard had to break up fist, knife and even magical brawls; one mage scrap had ended with a table and chairs being transfigured into a wooden dragon golem! The beast was now out front on the roof, and the namesake of the establishment.

Still, the troublesome crowd weren't his cup of tea. It was old knights, the wizened sorcerers, the rogues missing an eye that he liked. They told all the best stories. There was one, however, that would always stand above in his memory. It had been many years ago, three months into his employment, when the young warrior had sat at the bar, ordering the cheap but filling stew and a watered down beer. The latter was more a legacy since magic water purification was so widespread, but the flavour went well with many a meal The Wooden Dragon served, so it remained a staple.

The man was dressed simply, his equipment older than he was by the look of it, but clearly well maintained, the leather oiled, the metal plates marked with signs of repair and battle damage. The short bow was of odd make, twisted forwards and backwards like a snake, unlike the local style of longbow. His sword was finely made, but like the dark haired man's attire, older yet well kept.

It was all quiet until the nearby table of newly anointed knights, all full of mead and self-importance, started getting boisterous. The latter was usually knocked out of them after they saw actual combat, and realising that knighthood more often than not meant killing their King's enemies rather than rescuing damsels or slaying monsters. One of their number, a lanky, handsome ginger fellow with the slightly pointed ears, human with Elven ancestry, strutted up to the bar and tried to force conversation upon the stranger. It was when he questioned what the warrior fought for that it happened.

"I'm only in it for the money" didn't exactly go down well. But, against the expectations of every patron in the bar, when the table of greenhorn knights stood and made to "teach the man honour", which was beyond ironic, it was the five shiny-armoured graduates that were left scattered, unconscious and mildly bleeding upon the ground.

With so many witnesses, including a merchant of some importance who had been a patron of the tavern since he was a simple market trader, the city guard could neither sweep the matter under the rug, not blame the young warrior. The knights would only spend a night or two in the gaol, but the experience was enough to knock them off their high horses.

Wren had approached the stranger when he returned the next night, a touch nervous but filled with curiosity. "If you pardon my asking..."

"Why am I only in it for the money?" The voice was different than Wren had expected. Tired, but understanding, like the older patrons Wren liked so much. "I was like those knights once, full of untested ideals and grand heroic plans."

A hardness took over the warrior's face, the steel mug that could take Orcish strength groaning and bending as the barkeep would swear his eyes turned slitted and ringed in electric blue.

"Do you recall the attack on Stormhold, winter before last? There was an adolescent dragon amongst their number. I slew it...but at a terrible cost. It's progenitor was there, watching, likely using the fight to blood their spawn, not thinking anyone could harm their youngling. I thought it would kill me, but it did worse. It took my family, keeping them as slaves, and gave me an ultimatum. Bring it the horde it's child would have gathered by the time it reached adulthood, or they would die in ways I could never imagine or forget. So, yes, when people ask me what I fight for, I tell them truthfully. They never ask who I fight for."

[removed]

I had a vague idea a story under this prompt would have to do with family or such, great story!

"I'm trying to buy the rights to create a fanfiction where Dr. Who goes to the wizarding world and introduces them to digimon and starts a digital brothel."

A worthy cause

• edit: typo

Leorio from Hunter X Hunter comes to mind

It had been years since I had been a squire, but I had been taught thoroughly, I asked the other man at the table, "And what are the coins for?"

His demeanor turned guarded at that, "You first, why are you here?"

"A fair request," I nodded, "I'd like to say I'm looking to keep my skills sharp, but really it's because someone called in a favor."

"The honorable type? Surprised you didn't sneer when I mentioned money." He took the chance to stop at his ale.

"My mentor said seeking wealth is like seeking power, one should ask how it would be used." He nodded at that, so I motioned with my drink, "Now, what are the coins for? Good food? A nice home? Paying debts?"

He took a look around, but the other conversations drowned out our own. We were just two more mercenaries among many in that evening.

After another sip, he leaned in, and motioned for me to do the same. In a slightly softer voice he spoke, "I'm technically nobility. Sixth son, so not even valuable as a spare, but I was tutored. I'm looking to get out of fighting, and either become a tutor myself, or keep a noble's library."

I raised my eyebrows at that, "A scholar?"

He nodded, a severe look in his eyes, "I have the aptitude, but never had the opportunity. Best i can do right now is build up funds to help a developing house, and use that as my way in."

"And once you have them listening to you, what advice would you give?"

At that he sat back with a crooked smile, "The best advice I was ever given, surround yourself with effective subordinates, and even a fool could become a great king."

I gave him an assessing look, "Let's focus on surviving the coming months, but after that, would you like to travel with me? I believe Duke Arthur Pennwood's son is turning two at the end of winter."

His look turned suspicious, "And how would another mercenary be able to make such an introduction?"

"I hope he hasn't forgotten his uncle." The man across from me gaped like a fish at that, so I continued, "After all, that favor was to lead in his stead so he can dote on his son. Before you ask, I'm not after his seat, I'd make a terrible leader. Perhaps, with your help, we can gather up some advisors for my nephew."

Having regained his bearings, the noble-turned-mercenary extended his hand, "It would be a privilege and honor sir. My name is--"

"Getting ahead of yourself mercenary," I gave him a hard look, before taking his hand, "As I said, we need to survive first. We can sort introductions on the way back to the duchy."

With my piece said, I shook his hand, finished my drink, and headed for the command tent. Having mercenaries that weren't idiots was a stroke of luck, now to make use of them. Hopefully that sixth-son wouldn't get himself killed, the duchy needed a new librarian.

'If a dollar was a chicken, would a chicken be evil?'

-- Samuel L. Jackson

A great prompt and a great response! I want to read more from this world building :)

"I like trinkets and shiny thinks, money can buy those things."

Fair enough

Good job.

It's been two thousand years since the day I took the squire oath. A deep sigh slipped my lips as I downed the last of my whiskey .i slid the glass to the barkeep . With a nod I asked for another, two thousand long ass years . I gazed around the room , filled with so many lives . They were blissfully unaware of evil that lurked in this city. How stupid and lucky they are ... While they go through the day my kin and family protect the city with hunters of the night to keep our city safe from those who want you as their super.

The barkeep Joana handed me the glass " hard night triana ?" She asked . I looked up at her , she always called me triana my name is Annastriana .

" What else is fucking new " I replied with a gruf and took the drink and finished it one gulp. It was almost night and I had to get back with the others for the hunt.

" Damn baby ! Can I buy you another ?" A stupid drunk college guy said as he reached the bar. He was your typical frat wanna be 20 something brat. He was already drunk I could smell the alcohol level in his blood and hear how fast his heart was racing.

I really don't have time for this you stupid prick head ! I know coming out on festival nights wasn't wise thanks to our goddess we have a beautiful complexion, and a longer life span than most humans and just for shit n giggles a hell of a liquor tolerance. Perks of the job I guess ! But it's ass hats like this that make me question why I do this damn job in the first place .

Joana " listen bud why I don't call u a cab I think you've had enough, and so has she so let's just call it a night"

I guess what they say about liquid courage is true. He came closer to me , the stinch of his over priced body spray overpowered the air and his eyes were bloodshot. Stupid human ! About the time I was just GANNA slap him across the face . A tall slender man grabbed me by the hand and pulled me away .

When we got on the bussling new Orleans street I snatched my hand away .

"Who the hell are ?!" I said sternly.

The tall man smirked .and leaned his head down to look me in the face he held his hands behind his back.

" Is that how we say thank you where you come from ? I mean even two thousand years ago people had manners right. Or were as uncivilized back then as you are now? "

I blinked ... How did he know how old I am ? I stepped back I looked at him he didn't seem to more than 30 in his appearance and I wasn't picking up any traces of magic or anything . This doesn't seem right . I shook my head . I should just leave . I needed to meet with the others.

" Im afraid you won't be meeting them .... Well at least not tonight and definitely not there . " He said in a whisper by ear.

How did he know what I was thinking ? Is this a trick ? A trap .okay stay calm mind clear if he can read minds I must keep my mind blank .

" Well since you can read my mind , seems this dance very one sided . Care to share the floor? Starting with oh I don't know your name and what you want?" I replied stepping forward with my arms crossed. He smirked again ,what is with this guy I still can't read him.

" Oh I love to dance but I'm afraid my dance card is full tonight. However I'm sure for the right price I may have an opening after all" he stepped around me .

" Okay I'll play I tossed him a small velvet burgundy bag it had two gold coins and one ruby . Just the last of jewels from pay day ." Must be one hell of a name if it's worth money for " I smirked and clicked my tounge.

" You could say that but then again everything and everyone has price . I'm just bold enough to say I'm only in it for the coins." He fanished and I stepped forward left on a small torn paper was old scrip writing, not in a language I can understand .damit what the hell was that !

its a bit difficult to read, ngl

I may regret asking but I'm curious. Why is it difficult to read ? 😅 I wrote this so early this morning I apologize I'm not the best spelling , however any positive criticism is appreciated . As I would love to start writing again. 😸

Is just as you said, plus the messy punctuation. As for the story, it feels like it uses or adress the prompt a bit too loosely, compared to the other stories. As if its just an afterthought, if you will.

"I might need a second bag of holding," Peter muttered as his eyes scanned the room. Chests full of gold coins spanned the perimeter, their gaping mouths overflowing in excess onto the floor. He smiled. "To poor, or perhaps to rich, to keep the floor clean."

Peter quickly got to work. Using the bag like a bucket, he continuously dipped it inside the chests, scooping up giant swaths of coin with each pass. In a few minutes, he had managed to go through half the chests when his ears twitched.

"Damn," he quickened his pace as the distant sound of footsteps gradually grew closer. There were still a few chests left when he decided to abandon the remainder and tie the bag to his side and equip his dual knives.

The door exploded forwards, launching across the room and slamming into the wall behind him. A knight appeared within the frame. "Drop any weapons and hands above your head, Goldhands!" his stern voice ordered.

Peter chuckled at the sudden realization. "Will your voice ever give out from yelling, Allen?"

The knight looked at him, puzzled.

"Ah," Peter pulled the black hood obscuring his head back, revealing his face.

The knight's eyes widened. "Peter? You're... you're Goldhands?!" his voice shifted from confusion to anger. "Not only did you abandon the Order, but you also went and became a Thief as well?!" Allen pointed his blade towards Peter. "After all I taught you..."

"I do have to thank you. Were it not for your teachings, I may have mistakenly become a knight and played guard dog to the nobles for the remainder of my life."

Allen grimaced. "And this is an improvement? Stealing? And pray, tell, what are you planning to do with your ill-gotten gains?"

"This takes me back. You always were fond of trying to teach life lessons right before beating the crap out of me. Unfortunately for you, today it's your turn to learn."

Now saddled with years of experience fighting both monster and knight alike, Peter quickly defeated his former teacher. Allen lay on his knees looking up towards Peter, twin daggers crossed before his throat.

"Do it, then," Allen choked.

"Have you ever come across a dragon, Allen?"

"What?"

"I happened upon one on a quest some ten years ago. We were clearing out a cave said to be full of Goblins. Once we had dealt with them, I began to explore the cave, searching for any survivors. For some reason, the floor in one part felt thin. I remember stomping on it a bunch of times, only to fall through onto a ledge a few feet below overlooking a giant cavern. In the middle slept a dragon, sleeping upon its endless horde."

"You… do you owe a debt to that creature?"

"Not at all. It hadn't even bat an eye when I crashed through its ceiling, so deep in its slumber, and I as insignificant a presence as the Goblins which once danced above it. But at that moment, when I gazed upon the marvelous shining yellow sea, whose twinkle defied the logic of what should have been a dark cavern, I recalled the same teaching you brought up today."

Allen gulped as Peter brought his face closer, gritting his teeth. The sound of a few coins flying as Peter kicked his foot.

"That wealth were not evil, it was its use. I looked upon that greedy lizard's riches the same way I look upon the lord's stash you were defending today. And I tell you, neither man nor creature, can accumulate so much in one lifetime having committed only good."

Allen blinked a few times as Peter took a step back, removing the daggers placed against his throat. As his gaze traced Peter stepping next to him, he felt his arm briefly grace his shoulder, before letting go and stepping out through the broken entrance behind him. Turning to face the room, Allen winced and held the back of his hand to his eyes. Without the dark void of Peter's figure, the room was blinding.