The Slaughtered Lamb. Wasn't there a group of warlock trainers hiding out in there?
Jess sat in the shade of a nearby tree and watched for a while. The tavern did have regular customers coming and going, but it was clearly much quieter than the other tavern near the Wizard's Sanctum.
In human society at this time, the Church and the Kirin Tor forbade the study of anything related to demons.
The rules had relaxed somewhat after the wars with the orcs. From Dalaran to the Wizard's Sanctum, senior mages and researchers had begun studying demons on a small scale so they could better defend against another orc invasion. But ordinary people were nowhere near as accepting of warlocks as they were in the game.
Still, the secret circle of warlocks hiding inside this tavern wouldn't be exposed for more than a decade. That alone showed how carefully they covered their tracks.
So if the Wizard's Sanctum didn't work out, could he find a job with these warlocks instead?
The Slaughtered Lamb looked much the same as it would over a decade later: an unremarkable entrance and old, worn furnishings.
A half-torn piece of rough paper was stuck beside the door. The remaining half read, in faded writing, “Help wanted... good health... pay... outsiders preferred...”
Wasn't that him to a tee?
The quiet tavern had only one bartender on duty: a Black man with a narrow mustache and two thick braids in a barbarian style.
Even on his own, he didn't look particularly busy.
In the corners, several men sat drinking alone, keeping to themselves. Most wore plain clothes and were strongly built. They looked like laborers, much like Jess.
Despite being in the Mage Quarter, there wasn't a single mage or apprentice among the customers. Maybe the place had been meant for the workers repairing the quarter's buildings from the start.
Then the barbarian-looking bartender stopped wiping a glass and stared at Jess. He looked less like someone waiting to serve a customer and more like a butcher waiting for a fat pig to climb onto the chopping block by itself.
Jess wanted to turn around, but now that he'd come this far, backing out would look even stranger.
“Mead. Malt beer. Dwarven ale. Dark grape wine,” the man muttered.
“I'm not here for a drink.” Jess stepped up to the counter. “Are you hiring, sir? I saw the notice outside.”
The man narrowed his eyes, bit his lower lip, and slowly said in heavily accented Common, “Get out.”
Jess nodded and turned. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward the back of the room. Beyond a passage partly hidden by crates of wine was a dark doorway.
If he remembered right, that was the hidden entrance to the basement. The warlocks should be hiding on its lowest level.
“Sorry.” He looked back at the bartender. “Someone told me there was work here. I saw you were running the place alone, so I thought you really could use a hand. If I've offended you somehow, I'm sorry.”
With that, Jess raised his eyebrows slightly and headed for the door.
He'd made up the person who sent him on the spot. He wasn't even sure why. Maybe he wanted to shift the responsibility onto someone else. Or maybe he thought a secret group like this would be more open to someone who came with a referral.
To his surprise, it worked.
“Who sent you?” the bartender suddenly called.
“Well... lots of people have said so.” Jess was about to keep walking, but the man softened his tone. “You need money, kid?”
“I really do.”
“What's your name?”
“Jess.”
“Come with me, Jess.”
The man turned toward the hidden door. Jess followed, glancing at the men drinking in the corners. They acted as if they'd seen and heard nothing, without looking over once.
Whatever lay hidden beneath the Slaughtered Lamb, calling it a cellar would have been ridiculous.
This was practically a dungeon!
It was nothing like the size of the place in the game. After passing through a narrow corridor packed with wooden crates, they went through an iron door and entered a place that looked like a dark prison.
Even if the place were exposed one day and Stormwind patrols stormed in, they might not find their way around. That would make it all the easier for the people hiding here to escape.
The bartender lit a torch and motioned for Jess to follow.
“You don't tell anyone about anything you see here, kid. If you do, we'll know who talked... and then you'll find yourself in a very, very bad situation.”
The way he pronounced “very” was so strange that it took some of the fear out of the place.
“I just need money. I'm not looking for trouble,” Jess said.
“Good. That's good.” The man walked to the iron door of a cell and knocked softly.
The sound of his knuckles on metal rang through the underground halls. Jess stared into the pitch-black end of the passage, feeling as if countless eyes were watching him from wherever the echoes came back.
“Erlan? You still in there?” the bartender called through the door.
“Can't you wait a while, Zare?” someone inside complained between breaths.
“Is Surena in there too?” The bartender frowned. “I found you two a helper. He's pretty sturdy.”
“Get lost, Zare!” a woman shouted from inside, followed by more swearing.
A little later, a strong, shirtless man opened the door a crack. One hand was still holding up his pants. A heavy smell of sweat drifted out.
“This the one? What's your name?”
“Jess.”
“I'm Erlan. Nice to meet you, Jess.” Erlan held out his hand. Jess glanced at it but didn't take it. Erlan seemed to realize something was off and pulled his hand back, wiping it on his pants.
“We'll be out soon. Very soon. Take our guest to the practice room.” He slammed the door shut.
“It's the middle of the day, for crying out loud. Those bastards,” the bartender muttered. Then he looked at Jess. “Oh, right. I'm Zare. Zare Moor.”
Jess nodded. He had no idea what he was getting into. Still, from what he'd seen so far, he probably wasn't in danger of getting killed.
The Slaughtered Lamb had none of the grim, deadly air it would have later. Maybe the dark-magic users hiding here simply weren't that powerful yet. They were just beginners trying to learn from the powers of orc warlocks on their own.
“I've got to watch the bar,” Zare said. “You can go on your own, Jess. Follow that passage all the way to the end. It's the biggest room, the one with all the barrels.”
“And remember to collect your pay at the counter on your way out.”
“You pay the same day? How much per session?”
Zare held up two fingers and waved them back and forth. “Two silver coins.”
Two silver coins?!
After Zare left, Jess went to the so-called practice room. There were no practice weapons, no wooden swords or knives. Apart from some barrels that might or might not contain wine, the room was completely empty.
Then an unsettling, decaying smell slowly reached his nose. It was nothing like rotting wood or fermenting fruit. It wasn't exactly a stink, either. Whatever it was, it made him deeply uncomfortable.
He spent a long time sniffing around the basement before noticing that it seemed to come from the base of a wooden support post. He still couldn't tell what it was.
Jess hesitated over whether to go through with the job. But two silver coins for a single session? Opportunities like that were hard to come by.
By his rough math, two visits a month would cover his rent. Thirty visits a month would earn him a gold coin in two months. Keep that up for a year, and he'd almost have enough to buy a toilet in the Old Town.
So why not come once in the morning and once at night? Four silver coins a day!
As soon as he thought that, he had a bad feeling.
Right. Why couldn't he come twice a day?
Why did one session pay two silver coins? What kind of job was this, anyway?
Hundreds of possibilities flashed through Jess's mind. The longer he thought, the more he felt he ought to get out of there. But two silver coins... Two whole silver coins!
Erlan walked in just then, bringing Jess's racing thoughts to an abrupt stop.
A Black woman followed him, probably the Surena Zare had mentioned. Both looked to be in their twenties, not much older than Jess.
Jess had a vague memory of Surena but couldn't remember who she was. Whoever she was, she wasn't one of the good guys. Her skin was even darker than Zare's, and she wore a dark-gray robe that made her almost impossible to see in the dim room. Only her two eyes seemed to move around in the darkness.
Erlan, meanwhile, was frighteningly pale, as though he hadn't left the house in months.
Erlan seemed to notice his concern. Smiling, he said, “Don't worry, little brother Jess. We're just going to run a simple test. Miss Surena will handle it. She always knows how far to go.”
“Are you ready?” Surena asked coldly.
“Who's supposed to be ready, Mr. Erlan or me?” Jess asked. “If it's me, what do I need to do?”
Before he could finish speaking, Erlan came over and tied Jess tightly to the wooden post.
Erlan was absurdly strong. No normal person had strength like that.
He had to be a veteran, a trained fighter, or one of those workaholics from the Stonemasons' Guild. Jess didn't have a chance to resist before he was bound fast.
“Hold on. Wait a second.” Trying to keep his panic down, Jess asked, “What are you doing?”
“All right. We can begin.” Erlan stepped aside and smiled at Surena.
Surena slowly closed her bright yellow eyes. Now she'd vanished completely into the darkness.
She muttered a few words in a language Jess couldn't understand. Suddenly, a pale purple glow lit up between her thin, dark fingers, bathing the entire room in an eerie violet light.
Jess's attention was instantly drawn to the strange, dim light. Was this... shadow magic?
Arcane magic wasn't everywhere in Lordaeron, but you could see it often enough near the Arcane Academy. Male students liked to show off outside, using small spells to move objects or create light and catch the girls' attention.
Jess had seen arcane spells cast a few times, and he was fairly familiar with their mysterious pale-blue or white glow.
But he'd never seen shadow magic before.
The novelty wore off fast. A violent ringing in his ears suddenly cut off all his other senses.
A fierce pain began at the tips of his limbs and crawled up his forearms, then his upper arms and thighs, all the way into his chest and belly. It felt as if a swarm of little monsters with sharp teeth and claws were scrambling wildly over his body.
The pain soon changed into waves of dull agony that kept swelling wherever those things seemed to have crawled. It hurt so badly he couldn't even speak. He was dizzy, and a sudden wave of nausea rose in his throat.
Erlan leaned in and whispered, “Look at his veins... It's working, Surena!”
Jess managed to open his eyes and glance at his hand. Dense purple lines had appeared all over it.
“Are you trying to kill me?!”
“You won't die. We don't want to be murderers.” Erlan winked. “It's only a Curse of Agony. The whole point of the spell is to cause pain, not to take someone's life.”
“Very good, Surena. I think your curses have reached a whole new level. Both the speed and the effect are better than last time... And this Jess fellow is pretty strong. I almost couldn't hold him down earlier. He's much stronger than the beggar we used last time.”
Erlan's voice slowly grew clearer as the pain began to blur and ease. Jess felt colder and colder all over. He was drenched in sweat.
Somehow, a large patch across his chest was wet, too. It turned out he'd vomited stomach fluid all over himself. He hadn't eaten a thing today.
That same disturbing smell of decay filled both his sweat and vomit. Now Jess understood where the strange smell in the room had come from.
They'd brought him here to be a training dummy so they could practice their DPS on him. And he clearly wasn't the first.
Erlan soon untied Jess and brought him a chair to rest in, then turned to talk with Surena.
Jess had no energy left to listen. His mind was a mess. All he wanted was to lie back in the chair and sleep.
Better yet, sleep like the dead and forget everything he'd just been through.
But he couldn't sleep. He had to get out of this place, take his money, and leave.
Somehow, stumbling and dazed, he made it to the grass outside the Wizard's Sanctum. Three silver coins were clenched in his hand. He had no idea why there were three.
He looked up at the sky. The sun was directly overhead, beating down on everything below. The smell of cookies drifted through the garden, and Jess's stomach growled.
Three silver coins... He wouldn't have to worry too much about this month's rent now.
Thinking that made what he'd just gone through seem worth something, at least.
At noon he washed his clothes and bathed beside the canal. Feeling a little better, he bought some bread. By the time he got home, it was already afternoon.
Most warlocks hiding in human cities at this time studied dark magic to fight orcs and other evils, not because they truly wanted to worship demons or the Burning Legion.
Their ultimate goal was to fit into human society, so they didn't dare actually kill people and bring even harsher bans down on themselves.
But what if there'd been an orc down there instead? Jess had only dared take this gamble because he knew something about how these people would develop in the future. He couldn't afford to take chances like that in a place he knew nothing about.
Lost in thought, he reached the Trade District. By evening, quite a few workers were lying against the walls, resting. A familiar figure was waiting outside the building where he rented his room.
“Where have you been, Jess Seso?”
Jess narrowed his eyes while chewing on his bread. It was Gred.