The Stranger woke with a start, like a startled beast. He rose snarling and growling like a bear. The Cat leaped back away from its perch near his warm leg.

He threw his blanket aside and cursed aloud. He put a hand to his head and stumbled for a moment. He pulled a key from his shirt and made his way toward the desk. The lock rattled open with a muffled click. He reached into the desk and pulled out a bottle, popping the cork on the flask filled with a brown-gold liquid, and took a swig.

He took a gasping breath and wiped his mouth, his steps staggered for a moment, but he seemed more awake now and propped himself up, now he stood taller, more like the dark figure from the night before. He seized up his cane and dark cloak and strode towards the door.

The door swung wide and then slammed shut, so fast the cat had no chance to escape back into the street where it felt it belonged. The figure locked the door with his iron key and moved away from the overpass. And let his cane tap on the bright stones of the early morning.

He surveyed the footpaths to either side of himself, watching for conspirators, then departing from that corner haunt and making his way into bright sun-kissed streets.

He shielded his eyes for a moment before adjusting. He walked out into the road, the houses looked less broken than they did in the nighttime. But the streets were still quiet, aside from babbling busy work and the splattering of chamber pots being emptied into the streets.

A few folks were out and conversing, the Stranger ignored them and made his way down the road towards a different part of the city.

He meandered through the bright city, weaving between the people that had materialized with the dawn. He passed through open markets and stalls selling fruit and vegetables, he ignored them with cold indifference, though he did stop at one shop in particular.

The glass window was smudged from its adoring fans, behind the glass were various items of precious metals and glass or jewels, and even a few pieces of finely carved wood sat proudly on display. The Stranger entered quietly but was betrayed by the friendly bell at the top of the doorframe.

He stood there a second, casting a shadow inwards towards the displays and cases. Like he was draping a curtain over them. He viewed a particular case of items for a moment before the shopkeep, a scruffy looking man not yet past his youth with a broad mustache, entered from the back. The Stranger eased upright and the shopkeep greeted him.

"Hello there, I recognize you. You were the one that brought in the special item, yes?" The stranger nodded and drew close to the counter to talk business.

"I'll be honest, I'm not much for magic but, the Copies sell well enough. Even if there duds." he motioned to a set-piece, full of rings marked " Rings of Warding arranged A-G, Approved for Public Use and Certified by the Dancing Horses Guild."

He scanned the text on the sign early. "I thought I told you not to write that!" he spoke in angry hushed tones. The Shopkeep shrugged,

"Had to make'em sound official, you know how the Licence Beaurea is about these kinds of things. Triple Serpents are just as bad, they've been trying to muscle in on all the other Guilds. These Duds got just enough in'em that they'll pass a dowsing test, but not much else."

The Stranger palmed his face "It's no good if we get caught, The moment people start asking about a Guild called The Dancing Horses, the jig is up. There's even talk of raising the jail time for counterfeit crimes another ten years, After the Jeweled Crab incident."

The Shopkeep looked surprised "What happened at the Jeweled Crab, Oh no, Gunter tried to sell that thing you gave him, Didn't he?"

His dark companion shook his head. "Worse, he tried to find out what it was. He was already under suspicion by the Guilds, Silver Bull, and Laughing Flower I think, they figured he was trying to make real copies instead of the junk I had him peddling." He and the Shopkeeper sighed

"Well, they'll not catch me. I've made sure of that. By the way, your cut of the profits." He pulled a small purse and slid it across the table. The Stranger took it and tucked it under his cloak.

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"Is there anything else I can help you with then? Or will that be all?" the shopkeeper asked. His friend inclined his head in polite refusal and left. As he did, the shopkeep took down the sign and considered getting it remade to exclude the false Guild name.

The stormy shadow blazed a trail down the street, pushing past the insignificant bodies in his way. He turned the path into an alleyway, a stark contrast to the downpour of sunlight. Seeking shelter in its deep shade, he removed the purse and jealously counted each ounce of silver it held. Then twice and a third time, until he was satisfied the amount was proper.

Concealing it once more within a hidden corner of his black cloak, reemerging into the brighter world he set back upon his brazen path through the town.

He made several more visits, each of a similar nature. A Tonic from the apothecary, an odd wooden figure from a carver's shop. Stopping at a cafe for lunch he absorbed some of the gossip around him, college students sharing intellectual pointers, duelists boasting of their skill, and previous opponents. He absorbed a soft-boiled egg on toast, with a side of fruit and coffee.

As he finished a paperboy strolled up to him and demanded a coin for the news.

"I only read the Times." he retorted to the scampish newsboy.

"That Rag! That Yellow paper, here, Read this its the Honest Word, better than those cons at the Times!"

The little imp threw a copy into his lap, spilling his coffee and breakfast scraps across the table.

"You Wretch!" the dark figure rose like a column of smoke from a raging fire, thick with ire. His hand came to the nob of his cane and made to strike.

A hand caught him at a vital time. "Darwin! I knew I recognized that stormy tone!" A happy voice called "Whatever happened to you old boy?!" the twittering voice revealed its body.

"Artman." the growling figure called. The smiling face moved into view, short brow and a long Roman nose, with dark beady eyes set above them and a mop of short sandy blonde hair beyond that.

"Ah, good to be recognized, You, off with it. Or I'll tan your hide as well." he leveled at the ruinous child, who tore off after the threat struck the air.

"Come sit with us, let me order you another plate. Each meal is sacred to us men." He inclined, steering the Stranger, by the name of Darwin, towards a table with many fairer companions seated about it. "Let me introduce my, humble friends. This Is Alicia of the St.Montague Family and her Sister Patricia." The pair of flirty girls smiled and winked, Darwin, bristled.

"And here we have the lovely Mavin, isn't she a treasure." Artman sat next to a dashing dark-haired woman in a near-mauve dress with a plunging neckline, showing far too much of her breasts. The way her grey-eyed gaze crossed his face was that of a scheming shrike.

Darwin flung his coat aside in curious contempt, and began eating from the plate set before him, mere fruit and coffee, politely taking in their conversation. Arman opened his mouth like a river, and a torrent fell out. "Darwin, I hear you in the Jewelers business now, how fortunate for you, I was worried you'd fallen completely off the map and were living like a vagabond. You always did have an eye for the finer things, you were quite good with silver."

Darwin poured himself a cup of coffee, which noted had been stained by a lady's color, "Tell me, Sir Darwin." she cooed "I would commission a necklace for my mother, Could you recommend me a smithy?"

He caught the stare of the sister closest to him, like a dog begging for scraps, hanging off his arm. At such close distance and inspection, he surmised that she was not in any way related to her 'sister' besides a passing resemblance of the lips and hair.

He also noted the heaviness of her scent and the wanting, almost pouting expression. He took a sip from his cup and ignored the whining pup at his heels. Addressing Arman instead.

"Well, Artman. I'm glad to hear it. Having someone watching my back is a comfort." Artman smiled as he said this, but by the time Darwin set his cup down it had spoiled.

"But seeing as your preferred choice of robber hasn't changed, I'd say you need a watchman more than I do." he finished as the clink of the cup hit the saucer. He could feel Artman's face twitching from the cruel strike. The lady at his elbow turned away, a pained look of disdain on her face.

The viper approaching Darwin recoiled. He pressed his opening "By the way, speaking of Robbers and thieves, How is Morton? More to the point, how is his wife Francesca?"

To be fair, Darwin was curious as to affairs of The Affair, but it had been so long he'd lost track of it. To summarise, it was a scandal for the ages. drawn out and painful.

Darwin put a napkin to his mouth and cast it aside, Artman leaped for his hip dagger and Darwin stood to meet him with his cane. The women scattered with a banshee shriek. Alerting the rest of the cafe into a panic and enthusiasm others. They measured each other with steely eyes and were ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness.

They never had a chance, Both Darwin and Artman were cast into the streets by the Manager and after wrestling with several of the well-armed patrons, Declared them barred under pain of death from entering the establishment again.

Darwin cursed and swore while Arman did much the same over his lost company, which now dodged him like a house on fire and refused his excuses. One of them seemed to have even swooned.

"Well Darwin, You have gotten me thrown out of yet another Cafe, and you have ruined my schemes of romance. I should kill you for this." Artman made a move for his dagger, but Darwin tapped him in the head with his skull cane first.

Artman fell like a tree, and Darwin felt no pity robbing him in broad daylight so quickly. He dismissed a few wary glances and walked away calmly. By the time anyone of importance came about, he would already be gone having slunk back into the shadows from whence he came, like a devil returning to Hell.