Dead weight.

Turns out the expression had some merit to it, Dave found out, as he struggled down the street, the cart catching on another loose cobblestone. He’d found the small hand cart at the back of the tailors store, covered in dust and used more as a table by the look of it, probably from when the old man had been younger and more able to get around. It had a storage space beneath it that, after breaking away the shelves, managed to just fit the dwarf inside, though he’d had to break the arms and legs with a stool to get the door closed.

Adopting the tailors face, he’d locked up the shop just after sundown and began struggling along with the cart, the penalties the game had given him at least matching his appearance. He hoped that no one would question him leaving the shop is he was its owner, and no one would expect the shop to open before morning, giving him plenty of time to get away.

At least, in theory.

“City watch, hold it there!”

Please let this old bastard have been deaf, Dave prayed silently, ignoring the shout as he kept struggling along. But a hand landed on his shoulder, spinning him around. Facing him, lit up by a small brass lantern held in the guards other hand was a man in a city watch uniform. Although calling him a man was a bit much, since it looked as though he’d barely started shaving.

“I said hold-! Oh, it’s just you Mr. Glint. Sorry about that, but we’re all a little on edge at the moment. Sorry if I startled you.”

“Quiet alright.” Dave said, trying to put on a dry, elderly voice.

“You alright? You sound a bit...”

“A touch under the weather young man, it happens with age.”

“Ah, that’d do it. My da’ used to sound like a creaking door when he was ill, was hilarious for everyone, except him of course.”

Dave chuckled politely, internally screaming for the guard to leave.

“Anyway, it’s not like you to be out this late Mr. Glint. Where are you off to with your cart at this hour?”

“Oh, you know, a few last minute things that got away from me, you know how it is.” He said, waving off the question.

“I sure do. I got so focused on polishing up my boots the other morn that I was late for my shift! Sarge was furious, though, he usually is. Last minute fitting?”

“Yes, that sort of thing, I won’t bore you with the details. Tailor stuff you know?”

“Yeah, yeah...” He said trailing off, looking nervous about something. “Listen, I’ve known you for as long as I can remember Mr. Glint, but Sarge was real clear that we needed to search every cart and wagon after dark...”

“Even my little cart?” Dave asked, trying to act surprised while is insides felt like they tied themselves in knots.

“I know it seems pointless, but I don't want to get in trouble again this week so...?”

“Oh, I suppose.” He said, slowly, letting out a long suffering sigh. “I was hoping to be done quickly so I can get to bed, but if you need to...”

“Just a quick look I swear then you can be on your way, I promise.”

Dave backed up a few steps, motioning for the guard to have a look, readying himself to run.

The guard shifted the grip on his lantern before kneeling down, opening up the side of the cart.

“Ah!”

Dave’s heart felt like it was going to explode, but the guard hadn’t attacked him yet. “What is it?”

“This cloth here, it’s just the sort I was looking for to get my ma a present. Do you think I could..?”

“Sorry, but I need everything in there for tonight.” Especially, Dave thought, since that piece of cloth is currently covering up a corpse in front of you.

The guard stood up, dusting himself off, not noticing a hand hang out slightly as the cloth was disturbed. “Then maybe I’ll pop by the store tomorrow then, but I shouldn’t keep you any longer.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you then.” Dave said, moving in quickly to close the cart back up before the body was seen.

“In that case, have a nice evening Mr. Glint.” The guard said cheerfully, whistling as he went.

Heaving on the handles of the cart, h got moving again with a sigh. “Well,” he murmured to himself. “At least I’ve got a name for the face, but I’m pretty sure using it from now on will cause more problems than it’ll solve.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Getting the cart back to the grate he’d climbed through before was easy enough after that, though he was unhappy with how much of his time was spent in the sewers. He’d planned to find a nice inn to stay at once he got some clothes, but he needed a place he could put the body where no one would look. Leaving the body at the tailors wouldn’t work, since as soon as someone knocked on the door, the game would be up and the guards would take them. The idea of losing the body was... almost painful.

It was hard enough leaving the tailor himself lying there, but he had the dwarf which he convinced himself would be enough, but... He knew that the body was something of a lifeline for him, another few days of survival, but the drive he’d felt to take them with him had been strong. It was honestly concerning the risks he’d taken to get it, just for food, even if it was something hard to get. He’d gone from wondering what he was supposed to do with his life to stealing bodies in seemingly no time at all. Wrapping up the body tightly in the remaining cloth, he left it in the cool darkness of the sewer, as from the water as he could and positioned so that it was out of sight form anyone curious enough to peer down the manhole.

With tomorrow’s meal secured and safe from the elements, he climbed back out among the stars, and went to find himself a place to stay. There must be dozens of prominent Inns throughout this city, he thought to himself as he walked through the darkened markets, I’m sure they’re begging for some decent music.

~~~

“What do you mean you don't want a bard?! You’re an inn, you need music!” Dave said, half shouting with exasperation.

“I didn’t say we don't want a bard, I said we don't want you as a bard.” The innkeeper said as he rubbed his eyes. “Please, sir, don't make a scene.”

Dave ground his teeth. It had been the same story in the last half a dozen places he’d tried. Each one had been a brightly lit place, full of cheerful people and flowing with meet and drink, and everyone of them had rejected him immediately. The first one he could accept, after all a place didn’t need music every night, and that reasoning held for the next after that. Then he thought that maybe there was some kind of permit he was missing, but on asking around there wasn’t one. And now, as he was about to trudge back out into the dark, he was fed up.

“Can you at least tell me why? Why no one is willing to even let me in?”

The innkeeper looked at him for a moment before speaking. “I’m surprised you don't know. I thought your kind knew everything?”

“My kind?” Dave asked, wondering if he’d slipped up, worried he’d missed a detail on his face.

“You’re one of them aren’t you? The newcomers that don’t stay dead. I don't know what it’s about, and frankly I don't want to, but it’s not the reason, at least not directly.”

“Then...?”

“We had a bunch of you come through, all claiming to be the greatest musicians in the realm, all demanding to be treated like royalty. At first, well, we bought it, maybe they really, were that good, so we gave them a room for the night, but when it came time to play...”

“They were lying?” he guessed.

“From the way one of them acted as I had the bouncer throw them out, not exactly.... listen, you got an instrument?” They asked suddenly

“I plan on getting one as an accompaniment, maybe a lute or something, but I'm a singer by trade so-”

“Then that’ll make this simple. Sing something now, doesn’t have to be amazing. If you’re as good as most of you seem to think, then you’ll hear the problem, if you can’t, then you’re not good enough to sing here anyway.”

Seeing this as an opportunity, Dave wasted no time in clearing his throat before starting in on a classic.

“I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel...”

He’d barely gone more than a few lines before he ground to a halt, hearing something off in his tone.

“You heard it didn’t you?”

He nodded, trying to understand what was going on. He knew the words, knew the notes and knew for a fact that he should have hit them. But when he’d sang, the words had come out clipped, the tone out of place and just out of reach. It was still the song, and to someone who didn’t know music at all it might have even sounded okay, but when you payed attention, it grated, the small burrs in the music making it rough and unfinished.

“It was like this for all of them?” Dave asked quietly.

The innkeeper nodded. “Some of them couldn’t hear it at all, others damn near burst into tears, and the one I had thrown out? They started screaming hysterically about some system robbing them of their chance of fame.”

“The system...” Dave said, a thought forming.

“Is that a thing? One of your newcomer things? If there was actually a problem then I feel bad about giving them the boot.” They asked curiously.

“If they broke down, then they’re unprofessional enough that they deserve it.” He replied vaguely, not paying attention as he concentrated and opened his menu, thinking about his singing.

Class skill - Bard (untyped)

Perform - Sing - 1

The quality of your singing, and the ability to affect others with your bardic singing abilities in positive or negative ways. As your skill and level improves, the strength and range of possible effects will increase. All effects must be discovered personally.

Current effects known:

None

Warning: To balance certain features, attempting to perform above your level will incur a penalty to ensure professional musician do not gain an unfair advantage over other players.

“That’s fucking garbage.” He said darkly.

“Excuse me?”

“Apparently I can’t sing using years of training, to make it fair for people who’ve never tried before.” He said, mostly to himself as he paced in front of the innkeeper, ignoring the looks he was getting from other patrons. He wondered if it was his race coming into play again, but right now he really wanted to sink his teeth into something. He wondered if The Expanse had any chew toys.

“I don't understand.”

“Don't worry about it. It’s a... newcomer thing. Listen, apparently I need a bunch of practice before I can sing properly. Is there anywhere around that you think might take me in for a night or two? Apparently I’m going to have to start from scratch here.”

“Hmmm,” they said, looking thoughtful. “Well, I’d say you could rent a room here for ten silver a night, but you look like you want to get underway as soon as possible. There’s one place I can think of, more a bar than anything, but they do have a couple of rooms usually available. But I warn you, it’s a fairly rough place, and most of the would-be bards coming through here wouldn’t be able to stomach the blood.”

“You’d be surprised how much blood I can stomach. Now, where is it?”