The Merchants’ Guild
A noble being refused entry into an establishment by a mere commoner was unheard of in all of Aranor, and this left Ezra shocked and confused.

Gathering his hurt pride, Ezra looked straight at the guard, his eyes blazing with fury. “Do you even know who I am?”

“It does not matter. Only members bearing the guild pass are allowed to enter this establishment, so beat it, kid,” the guard replied, tilting his head to point Ezra in the direction of the tavern.

Offended by his impudence, Ezra lost his cool and pulled out his enchanted revolver. Pointing it at the guard, he spoke in a commanding voice, “I am Lord Ezra Romanov. Get out of my way, or I’ll drop you where you stand.”

The guard never expected someone to pull a gun on him. And though he too, was armed with a flintlock pistol, the sight of the enchanted firearm in Ezra’s hand made his hands turn cold.

Raising his hands, the guard whimpered, “You are making a big mistake here. Even the nobles aren’t allowed to enter without permi
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