The Greywater Adventurer's Guild: Templar Justina Faircourt

By Wesley Allison

Alaric Cindarr was a no-good, washed-up drunkard. Everyone in The Greywater Adventurer’s Guild agreed. Even his party was ready to dump him and go it on their own. Then she arrived, Templar Justina Faircourt, bright-eyed and full of promise and optimism, on a mission from God. And she wanted to join the team of that gentleman and hero, Alaric Cindarr. Wait... what?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wesley Allison
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215567685

Wesley Allison

At the age of nine, Wesley Allison discovered a love of reading in an old box of Tom Swift Jr. books. He graduated to John Carter and Tarzan and retains a fondness the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs to this day. From there, it was Heinlein and Bradbury, C.S. Lewis and C.S. Forester, many, many others, and finally Richard Adam’s Shardik and Watership Down. He started writing his own stories as he worked his way through college. Today Wes is the author of more than thirty science-fiction and fantasy books, including the popular His Robot Girlfriend. He has taught English and American History for the past 29 years in Southern Nevada where he lives with his lovely wife Victoria, and his two grown children Rebecca and John.For more information about the author and upcoming books, visit http://wesleyallison.com.Books by Wesley Allison:Princess of AmatharHis Robot GirlfriendHis Robot WifeHis Robot Wife: Patience is a VirtueHis Robot Girlfriend: CharityHis Robot Wife: A Great Deal of PatienceHis Robot Wife: Patience Under FireEaglethorpe Buxton and the Elven PrincessEaglethorpe Buxton and the SorceressThe Many Adventures of Eaglethorpe BuxtonEaglethorpe Buxton and... Something about Frost GiantsThe Sorceress and the Dragon 0: BrechalonThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 1: The Voyage of the MinotaurThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 2: The Dark and Forbidding LandThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 3: The Drache GirlThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 4: The Young SorceressThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 5: The Two DragonsThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 6: The Sorceress and her LoversThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 7: The Price of MagicThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 8: A Plague of WizardsThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 9: The Dragon's ChoiceThe Sorceress and the Dragon Book 10: For King and CountryKanana: The Jungle GirlTesla’s StepdaughtersWomen of PowerBlood TradeNova DancerThe Destroyer ReturnsAstrid Maxxim and her Amazing HoverbikeAstrid Maxxim and her Undersea DomeAstrid Maxxim and the Antarctic ExpeditionAstrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space PlaneAstrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar ChallengeAstrid Maxxim and the Mystery of Dolphin IslandAstrid Maxxim and her High-Rise Air Purifier

Book preview

The Greywater Adventurer’s Guild

~ Book One ~

~ Templar Justina Faircourt ~

By Wesley Allison

Smashwords Edition

The Greywater Adventurer’s Guild – Templar Justina Faircourt

Copyright © 2023 by Wesley Allison

Revision: 8-25-23

All Rights Reserved. This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If sold, shared, or given away it is a violation of the copyright of this work. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover by Winda Chu

ISBN: 9798215567685

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The Greywater Adventurer’s Guild

Templar Justina Faircourt

By Wesley Allison

Chapter One: The Templar

Alaric Cindarr slowly opened his eyes. His eyelids felt like sandpaper. He turned his head to look to the left and immediately wished he hadn’t. His brain exploded with pain.

Ahh! he moaned, only to find out that his mouth tasted like something had died in it.

Why? Why do I keep doing this to myself? God, why do you keep letting me do this to myself?

He looked slowly around. He was in a bed… in a room… somewhere. At least he was in a bed and in a room.

Slowly sitting up, he tried to look around without moving his head. His clothes were strewn across the floor. The room smelled of sex, but he couldn’t remember who was responsible for that. Looking down at himself, he realized that he was at least partially responsible.

He slowly picked up his clothing, putting on each piece as he found it—underpants, breeches, shirt, jerkin, belt. He could only find one stocking, so he put it on his right foot. He put on his boots and, finally, his cap. He found his purse on the table by the bed. It still had eight shillings and six pence in it, though there was no sign of the six florins he remembered having the day before.

Walking very slowly, Alaric stepped out of the room and onto a landing, overlooking the main room at The Tulip. It was deserted, which meant that it was sometime between sunrise and early afternoon. It took him ten minutes to negotiate the two flights of stairs down to the main floor. He stopped to lean on the bar.

How you doing, Alaric?

Alaric looked to see Big Ike wiping down glasses.

Been better, Ike.

I can whip you up a two pence cure, if you like.

Sure, Alaric replied, fishing out the two copper coins and setting them on the bar.

Big Ike fiddled around with several bottles and then set down a pewter cup about half full of a murky liquid. Alaric picked it up and took a sniff.

Bloody hell, what’s in this?

It’s a secret, but it’s guaranteed to cure what ails you.

Worth a try, I guess. By the way, do you have any idea who I was with last night?

Nope. Just came on.

Alaric gave him a brief nod and then tossed back the entire contents of the cup. He hadn’t even set it back on the counter when projectile vomit shot from his throat, covering Big Ike from nose to belt.

Strewth! You’re right. I do feel better.

Turning, Alaric walked out the front door into the bright sunshine. He had to stop and cover his eyes. He could hear Big Ike retching behind him.

The Tulip was a brothel and not necessarily one of the better ones. It was, however, one that Alaric Cindarr frequented. It was just inside the Garter Park gate and only a block away from The Greywater Adventurer’s Guild. It was a quick walk, even in his current condition, though the breeze off the bay brought a shiver with it. A smart man would be wearing a cloak, but then a smart man would remember where he had left that cloak. The streets were not busy, though there were a few carts going here and there, a few people on horseback and maybe more than a few people on foot. Alaric paid none of them much attention. Before he knew it, he had reached his destination.

The Adventurer’s Guild was a four-story free-standing structure facing an open area that people sometimes called Garter Park Playground or Garter Plaza, though its official name, which almost nobody remembered, was The Whitespire Hay Market. A large swinging double door marked the guild’s entrance, and Alaric passed through it into the relatively dark interior.

The door opened directly into the guild parlor. Twenty round tables dominated the large space, and around each were four to six chairs. Most were empty at this time. Three men sat talking and smoking on the left side of the room, while a man and a woman, the latter wearing leather armor, were seated on the right.

Garn, Zoran, Mill, said Alaric, nodding to the men on the left.

Alaric, nodded Mill, a white bearded fellow, between puffs of his pipe.

Varn, Allondra, said Alaric, nodding to the couple on the right.

Don’t talk to me, you pig, hissed the woman, Allondra.

At the back of the guild parlor was a long counter, behind which stood Maerwynn, the guild secretary, an attractive redhead in a simple green skirt and a brown leather corset that left a good deal of cleavage spilling over the top.

Good morning, Maerwynn, said Alaric leaning on the counter. Or is it past noon yet?

God’s blood, Alaric! You look like shite! Your skin is pasty, you’ve got huge bags under your eyes, and you smell like a whorehouse! And it’s eleven.

Um, thanks. Have you seen Orella, Ham, or Dustin today?

Not so far today. Maybe they’ll be here for the midday meal.

All right, said Alaric. You couldn’t loan me two pounds, could you?

You know that’s against the rules.

Yeah.

A hand slapped down two gold coins onto the counter. Alaric turned to find Varn at his side. Varn was a big man, a good six inches taller than he was, though their builds were similar. Varn’s blond hair was parted in the middle and pulled back in a ponytail. A quick glance told Alaric that Varn’s partner Allondra was on her way out the door.

Booze or whores? the big man asked.

Um, my landlady. I’m four weeks in arears and she won’t let me in to get a change of clothes.

I expect to be paid back. You should stop and get a bath too.

My very next stop, said Alaric.

* * * * *

An hour and a half later, Alaric was back in The Adventurer’s Guild. He had visited the bath house and then his apartments, where, after paying the two pounds to his landlady, he had changed into clean clothes. It felt good to be clean and it felt good to have two socks again.

The parlor was much busier than it had been. There were more than twenty people now. Most of them were eating. That was one of the best things about being a member of The Adventurer’s Guild. Free meals at midday and supper. Alaric strolled over to the food wagon and grabbed a plate. There were sausages and fried fish, chips, asparagus, yams with butter, spaetzle, and brown bread. Plate filled to overflowing, he found an empty table. No sooner had he sat down than Myrna was at his side. She was a slight, little thing, in pantaloons, her dark brown hair cut short like a boy’s.

A beer for you, Alaric?

You know it, lass.

She was back with the beer in less than two minutes. Alaric was already working his way through the sausages, his knife his only utensil.

A tall, thin boy pulled out a chair and sat across from him. He was wearing a blue robe over a white shirt and brown pants. A wispy hint of a mustache, that was meant to make him look older, had the opposite effect.

I want you to join my party, Alaric.

You don’t have a party, Ellwin.

If you join me, we can get a third and then a fourth. Then we’re off to fame and fortune.

And what part are you going to play in this little party of yours? Alaric started on his fried fish.

I can handle myself with a sword, and Master Baumthaur said he would train me in magic. I’ll be ready to go in no time. You need to sign on now, before it’s too late. I’m going to have a lot of offers coming my way, just as soon as I know a few spells. Besides, your friends are planning to dump you. You’re too unreliable. I heard Orella say so in this very room.

Piss off, kid. Come and see me after you can pull a rabbit out of your arse.

Ellwin jumped to his feet.

You’ll be sorry! he shouted as he stomped away.

Should have taken the kid up on it! called Ursula from two tables over. She was a plain looking woman with a blond bob cut. She was wearing pants and a jerkin and, oddly, had her sword laying upon the table.

"Maybe you should take him up, said Alaric. I saw Varn and Allondra in their armor earlier. Did they take off on some job without you?"

Don’t you worry about me, she said.

You expecting trouble? asked Alaric, taking a bite of bread. He nodded toward her sword.

Course not. Just got it sharpened. She got up and walked to the east wall, where the jobs were posted.

The front door opened and three people walked in, one woman and two men. They took a quick look around and then walked directly to Alaric’s table and sat down. The three were Orella, Hamlin, and Dustin, his comrades. Orella was a beautiful woman, with long black hair and strikingly pale blue eyes. She wore a black and white leather jerkin over a white dress, cut longer in the back than the front, allowing a black underdress to peak through. Hamlin was a tall man in his early forties, with close cropped black hair and only the first hints of grey. His usually neatly trimmed beard and mustache were in slight disarray. He wore a simple brown shirt and leather pants, with boots. On his belt were twelve inches of braided brown hair, a memento from his wife that he was never without. Dustin was a heavily muscled fellow about Alaric’s age. He had short brown hair with a few days’ growth of beard, but his clothes were new, pantaloons and a doublet.

Sober for a change? Orella asked. She looked like she had bitten into something sour.

Fit and ready for work, said Alaric. Why don’t you all get some food and I’ll have Myrna bring you all out some beer.

Alaric, said Dustin. We’ve been thinking that it would be better if we went our own way.

What? You want to split up the group?

Hamlin spoke up.

He means we think you should go a different way from us.

You can’t dump me! Three people isn’t enough! Most of the teams have five. You guys will get killed.

We’ll get somebody else, said Dustin.

We’ll get paid, said Orella. You know how many jobs we’ve had to pass up because you weren’t where you should have been?

I’ll do better.

Goodbye, Alaric, she said.

Then all three of them stood up and went to the food wagon, and when they had their food, they sat down at a table across the room from him.

Another beer? asked Myrna, sliding a mug in front of him. Tough break.

At that moment, the front door opened again, and a girl walked in. She was tiny, no more than five feet tall, and very thin, with long blond hair and large golden eyes. She was wearing a white chest plate and pauldrons with matching boots. Beneath the armor was a crimson top with long sleeves and a white skirt. She had a large book held fast to her hip by a belt, and she carried a massive war hammer. On her chest, her boots, her shoulders, and on the cover of the book, in solid gold, was the symbol of the hammer.

What’s she supposed to be? wondered Myrna.

She’s supposed to be a templar of The Church of Ascension, said Alaric.

The diminutive templar walked slowly through the parlor. Every single person in