Kriegstad was massive. Cities tended to be quite large, hence the identifier of 'city', but the scale of 'the Krieg' was at least twice that in volume as the Harani imperial capital. If one ignored the outer settlements between the high gates and the seaside cliffs the city had been carved from, but even then the Krieg was a far wider metropolitan expanse.
Messy, the 'free city', a jumbled labyrinth of poorly planned streets, bridges, and artificial waterways all knotted up and confusing. On the furthest edge of it, it bordered the inlet to the sea that comprised half the length of the border between the successor states and the Varian Empire. Some said that the river so wide as to be a bay was artificial, created by magic engines in ages past to bring water closer to the more inland states. Then again, some people also said that Kriegstad was one of the best planned cities in the entire known world.
For who, though, Alex wasn't sure – certainly not anything with a human brain.
It was the second most populated city on the continent, though, and it was diverse beyond anything Alex had seen before. Long, stout, crenelated walls built from heavy granite brick for the most part, but that's where the uniformity ended. Erupting into a rat's nest of half-assed construction bordering neater looking armories and shabby shopfronts, wealth and poverty all jumbled together. Men and women in tailored petticoats and dresses of a fine make walking alongside urchins and rogues, pickpockets and cutthroats.
Petticoats, yes, it was common for dandies of the Krieg to wear long laced skirts and frilly dress bottoms. To those born in the north amongst their group visiting the city, those individuals would get a lot of looks – but here it was seemingly normal.
Here there'd be a stout arsenal of a building that had been converted into a bank, and next to it would be a rickety, high roofed apartment building occupied by the working class. It was a city of industry over magic, and everyone was busy, all the time. Every single person in the Krieg was consistently in a hurry, the bustle was nausea inducing. Expertly navigating themselves through the maze of streets coiling around the city center where the palace sat like a snake in its death throes.
Not much of a palace, an ugly utilitarian citadel of ebony black stone they'd tried and failed to dress up in a bid to appear regal. It was built for a purpose, and surely would excel at it, occupying this land long before humans had ever come to the eastern continent, or so more rumors said. Once one made their way toward that monolithic edifice, the city became less crowded, the roads wider, and every building was built in a pattern not unlike stairs, their roofs flat to allow ranks of archers and mages a clear line of sight on any approaching invaders, the elevation increasing the closer one got to the citadel walls.
Kriegstad had never been part of the twin empires, and it had never been conquered, existing as a separate state within Varian borders for an era. But in an age where wars were nigh unheard of, 'the Krieg' the city had been named after served as little more than a symbol of dominance over the region. A grand bastion dominating the shallow escarpment Kriegstad had been built upon. Lower levels and tunnels all cut through it until the city proper terminated in a vast stretch of wharf's and shipping depots.
The inlet below was about as filthy as the metropolis above, a place of smog, smoke, heavy with the scent of burnt grease and sweating bodies. Alex hated it almost immediately.
“This place is a maze as always...” Micah complained, rubbing at his harness uncomfortably as the braces began to chafe at his waistline. He knew he'd be in for a long night of rubbing balms into the skin of his legs, thankful he couldn't feel them for once. “And it stinks!”
“It is quite messy...” Sigi was used to the press, Trafalgar had been a very dense city itself, building high rather than sprawling out what with their lack of land. After that, she'd become accustomed to the circular fashion in which most northern cities were built, with straight streets and well organized blocks. Kriegstad, as a 'free city' and bastion of individuality, was not to her liking.
Entire districts were drab gray stone in places, and the next would be brightly colored wooden structures that seemed ready to come crashing down on their heads at any moment. Hanging precariously over the streets and casting them in shadow like that...
So many races lived here, and it was one of the only cities save Milano considered a 'human kingdom' that could be ruled and governed by 'demi's'. The only saving grace in her mind was the large presence of adventurers, the 'adventurer capital of the world' they called it, and armed men and women were everywhere. Brutally enforcing the law of the Krieg princes and merchant royalty that lorded over the state, all mercenary armies and coin bought loyalty. There was no king here, only the influence and clout of one's own coinpurse earning them their authority – transient authority at best, easily lost amidst the den of viperous politicking of the Krieg 'princes'.
“I'm surprised Tythas did not come.” Sigi added.
Brenn shrugged, pushing through the mass of people all around them. Some thought to say something in anger, until they laid eyes on him. Either his size or the modestly decorated sigil of Vestia on the chest of his plate armor indicating that he was a paladin. Angry eyes became wary, and wary eyes immediately faced the ground. The authority of the church was strongest in Milano, among marcher states, but many paladins became adventurers and the churches here were by no means inferior to anywhere else in the world. Angering one of their chosen was a fools gambit, thus ensuring that Brennwulf made for a more than appropriate plow for their group. His violent facial features and repeated growls at the more flinty looking men among the crowd split them as easily as anything else.
“He's been sick, feverish for a week. I haven't seen him since he was admitted to the healers facility. Apparently he's recovering, but was too weak to make the journey.” Brenn said.
“Is he... Alright?”
“Of course.” Brenn nodded. “He's not on his deathbed, says he's been experiencing some bouts of incredible fatigue is all. Looks awful, but he's in perfect health otherwise, enough to confuse the healers administering to him apparently.”
“That's too bad!” Astrid said, smiling brightly at all the sights and sounds. The Krieg had many sobriquets, and as an 'adventurer city' with great wealth flowing through it's streets every day, the 'bard capital of the world' might be an appropriate one as well. Not so refined as in Milano, not so uptight and pompous, these people were rowdy and knew how to have a good time. Drink flowed from dawn to dusk, and the music came with it. She'd never seen so many drinking establishments in her life. Four on one street, it was amazing. Astrid didn't drink very much, but she could appreciate the pub atmosphere, calling it 'romantic'.
Alex was more worried about keeping a closed fist to avoid a filching of her dimensional ring. There were many rogues in this city and their cloaks wouldn't stop a careful eye from knowing rich, foreign nobility when they saw it. Not that it mattered, not really. These people had made their disorder a sort of order all its own, streams of people carrying on down the roadways with dirty little urchins on each corner crying out directions or the status of traffic in hopes of a tip in the process. Not unlike the public heralds in Karth, just a lot... dirtier.
Brenn smiled at one of these urchins in particular, a boy he must've recognized considering the thunderous curve to the little boy's eyebrows. Sour faced, mouth puckered, whatever their relationship, the child didn't see happy to see the significantly larger man. “We'll be havin' that rent soon, yeah? Oh noble paladin, suck me nipple and spit brandy into me grans arsehole, yeah? Bully boys be havin' a real gaff about you right about now, ye nob. Money come with you, innit? Cheeky bruv, two bollocks and a bag of cabbage for me troubles oh sweet one? Shite diamonds and scoops em up, I do, got a shovel in me pocket and a boot full of cobbler to match. Big priest man thinks he can swindle the Lavender Locket, yeah? Not on my watch, ye big lumpin' goober!”
A finger pointed, Brenn simply stared back at the child with a soft smile.
“Did anyone understand a world that kid just said?” Micah replied, eyes shifty and pointed at a pair of thugs cleaning their fingernails with wicked looking knives, listening a bit too hard at their conversation to be loitering there with no purpose. Gang muscle, then.
“Not a word, but I'm fairly certain we weren't supposed to.” Sigi mused, sizing up the goons of what must've been some kind of local gang of ruffians and finding them... lacking. The further south one went, the weaker, and smaller the men became on average. In size, strength, integrity, but never greed and ambition. Comfortable climes made wretches of them all.
“What's this then, eh? That's a right biscuit and two knickers on a paddy wagon with me nan and all, innit?” The kid declared, pointing a fat little finger at Sigi next, the free hand resting on his belt to display a dagger of his own. “She's got some disrespectful eyes, might pluck em out if I've two pumps and a daisy a dollop on yer nan's nightgown, ye? Giantess thinks she's a big tough thing in bully boy town ye, innit bruv? Cheeky nandos and two long live the queen's for three trout and a handful of lettuce, if you catch me drift, and no pepper in my morning cuppa. Best avert yer gaze before I knock those church bells on your chest together and make a sandwich of me own head, ye? Ye thick git and in the good way I reckon, fancy me a big bloke, might set yer legs aquiver, ole bully boys built long and thick as ye like.”
“What in the blue hells did you just say to me, tiny thing?” Sigi growled, thrusting through the crowd and grabbing the collar of his tailcoat. If those men to the side were guards, they made for poor ones, didn't do much of anything but chuckle mirthfully. Brenn's hand resting on the hammer looped to his belt said a lot to Micah about who his 'friend' here might be.
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Brenn had a good heart, honest and respectful in near all situations. Living by that 'paladins code' of his, he didn't like fighting outside of the training yards, but he would if he had to.
“I think he's talking about your breasts. Right?” Micah frowned, staring in wonder at the tiny figure that managed to summon enough courage to talk to Sigi that way. It wasn't just her height, but her entire physique and demeanor that communicated violence. Several well known powerful mage nobles in Amistad were afraid of her, each of the women had their own strategy when dealing with untoward males and Sigi's ran the convention of knuckle first, always. “I still don't understand what he's saying, but it sounds clever...?”
“Many thanks, limpy lad.” The kid placed a feathered tricorn hat on his head just to tip it toward Micah, gracefully plucking the silver coin Brenn flipped in his direction out of the air with his free hand. “And what nice mounds my lady has, closer inspection given. O'course it's no disrespect to her ladyship, all told, but me and mines the honest sort – you get me? Be a smart girl and see to removing your mitts from me jacket before I take offense, got an easily wounded heart, me. Gods honest, I'm of the sensitive and romantic sort if it's your fancy. Now twirl around and lemme get a good peep at yer arsehole, madam.”
“Where are your parents...?” Micah frowned, he'd never heard anyone who spoke like that even in the bizarro Krieg, accents were a given for some of the lower classes but the boy's was very unique. And not lower class, either, his fine leather jacket and well embroidered cummerbund beneath were clearly of fine making.
“Do they teach children in Kriegstad no respect?” Alex hadn't made a move, but she looked ready to. One flick of her wrist and her armor would be on, spear at the ready. “Do you have any idea who we are?”
“Heard that a time or two.” The kid replied with a shrug, dusting himself off exaggeratedly, though his eyes never left Sigi's chest, barely visible beneath the cloak and the armor she wore. It was a wonder he could make anything of it at all. Good eyes on him, if nothing else. “And who, pray tell, are ye – fine lass? Got a nice figure on you, too. What say we make like a pair of geese and drop some eggs down a merchants chimney, ye? I'll have you honkin', I will.”
“My companions...” Brenn stepped forward with a shallow shaking of the head to the others. Magnus remained silent at the rear with his hands in his pockets, clearly prepared for anything, and Sigi who looked ready to gore the men behind the boy just to show him who, exactly, she was.
But that could not be allowed to happen, the Locket was not an organization anyone with a brain inside their skull made enemies with.
“Astrid, Alexis, and Sigi Faeron – of the House of the same name. The wives of--”
“Oi, oi, oi...” The boy raised his hands, a flash of sudden panic blooming on his face, with its uneven nose and too wide lips. Paling to the point of a papered pallor. “You tell that man of yours I don't want no trouble with the Wolf. Not him nor the Raven, nor his boys, ye? Do that for me, sweet Brenny. And an honest and sincere apology from an old man for my disrespect to my ladies the imperial princesses.” He bowed, and the men behind him stowed their weapons and did the same with a shared and very anxious glance. “Your beauty and regal demeanor has preceded itself. Heard about you, I have, and I truly am sorry for any disrespect, from me deepest parts. Had I known I never would've insulted the big man's women. Made us a lot of money, he has. That makes us like family in mine eyes.”
“You know Tyr?” Brenn asked, a strange look on his face. The Lavender Locket were not a gang, well... They were a crime family alright, a syndicate, but anyone who was anyone did a little thieving in the Krieg. They were an independent merchant guild that primarily specialized in real estate, black market acquisitions, and 'legal' drugs. Here, that meant practically anything from dreamleaf to nymph wine. And... For those who partook, the dark brown shuukan... Er... Substance, that was a drug in high demand from many variations of beastkin.
It was their semen. No getting around it, their seminal fluid was an incredibly powerful stimulant favored in the arenas. Happy?
Then again, inquiring minds must know... Shuukahn, or simply shuukan dependent on their clan relations or some such nonsense predicating the missing 'h' were a rarer race. They were rarely ever found away from water, what with them being 7 foot tall, scaled 'shark' people. With bull's horns, thick gray skin, being of immense strength, centric around their warrior culture, they never stole, but they were the commercially inclined sort of folk. They'd sell anything.
“Aye, I do.” The boys speech became far more respectful in tone, and easier to understand in the process. “Had a little run in, tiny little bounty contract. You know us, eh? Chasing the money, got jobs to do and all that. Found 'im, gave em the what for. Strange, too, had a whole host of boys with him and ain't none of them did a damn thing about it. Just watched. Creepy that is, barely moving. I knew the Raven back when it was his day around these parts, you know? Was more worried about him than that prince of yours, kid did me though. Well, not me, reckon I was on the sly so he ain't seen much more of me than a youngling but... Let's just say it didn't end well for us bully boys. Killed over twenty of my colleagues with his bare hands. See old Felix back there?” The boy didn't indicate which man he was referring to, but Brenn must've known the name. “Your man, never seen anything like it, beat him to a pulp and tore out his implants with naked fingers. A wild thing. Ate em, too, couldn't believe it, chewed the metal right up and then healed the man. Do you know what he did next?”
Healed the man? Since when could Tyr heal anything or anyone?
Brenn shook his head, face darkening and mouth stretched wide and flat. The Locket wasn't only a merchant guild, the man he was speaking to was a gold ranked adventurer, and they had many others in their employ. If it was a bounty contract, they likely would've brought Arrow – a platinum ranked adventurer himself. Brenn knew, because he'd been one of these 'bully boys'. Once upon a time, one of their urchins on the street corners passing less than legal parcels off and calling out directions. Before he'd been saved by the goddess, Brenn had been as common a thief as the lot of them.
“Paid us for the implants, more than they cost. Cheap things, y'know? Felix is only a steel so they were simple, said he 'needed them' for himself. Paid off our contract too, and let us all go. A good lad, but by gods he'll make ye wet yer britches as you like. I'm sure you know that. All gabbin' aside, the names Loquacious. A jack of all trades, all it, operations management with the Locket. A trading company, nice and honest as you like, see us if there's anything my high ladies need.” He bowed again, this time with a sweeping flourish, foot back and rather comedic given his diminutive size. Couldn't have been three feet tall.
“Oh, I see.” Alex observed, halflings tended to look like children but most adults looked their age at least in the face. But she supposed anything was possible, Leda certainly didn't look 30. “You're a halfling, then?”
“Half gnome, half kijin.” Loquacious replied with a markedly more friendly voice, his intonation improving yet again. Speaking to her conspiratorially with a lopsided grin as if they were old friends. “Strange mix, innit? Guess I got more of me father's genes, mum's still in me though. Confusion happens all the time, y'see, bit of a benefit of my parentage so to speak. Just don't go makin' jokes about how a gnome managed to... You get it, big things be comin' in small packages. I'm pleased to announce that today I've made it eighty three cycles, n five days.” He winked, seemingly proud of that, for whatever reason. Perhaps it was because while gnomes tended to live just as long as dwarves, two to three hundred years naturally, kijin lived far shorter lives. Thirty was ancient for them, the women lived longer but proper kijin culture was unknown to the bulk of humanity. They were a very secretive people, and Alex had seen a fair few males, but no female kijin in all of her travels.
According to Tyr, that made her lucky – though he wanted to meet one himself despite the claim that they were supposedly terrifying fire breathing ogresses with four arms.
“Happy belated birthday!” Astrid cried, clapping her hands. A strange individual, her sincerely joyful tone combined with the six spells she'd cast in advance ready to slaughter these men without a moments hesitation. Would've been her first kill too, and yet she'd seemed so ready, Astrid had come so far from that pale girl full of anxieties on the bridge east of Amistad. “How delightful, we should celebrate!”
“Don't trouble yourself, m'lady.” Loquacious smiled, less concerned about the magic aimed at his face and more about getting as far away from these women as possible. The Locket already traded with Tyr Faeron, attracting any more attention from that monster was not on his bucket list. Nor the ones chasing that particular ex-princeling, best to stay as clean of hands in that regard as possible. “Now if you'll excuse me, I... I have urgent business to attend to!”
He hopped off the barrel he was standing on, attempting to disappear into the crowd. Tried to, at least.
Sigi's hand was even faster than his mouth, though more gentle this time. Loquacious knew Felix and Louis wouldn't be of any help either. They'd both been there. They'd both seen what one-eye had done to Arrow. It had been like the others weren't there at all. Granted, none of them much liked the platinum prick in the first place, but that didn't mean they wanted to see him opened up like that, screaming for mercy all the while. Man was still alive, too, the bumbling lunatic that he was at this point, not much of a life left in him. Tyr had torn him open, ripping his wired implants free of his guts in full view of the Locket, Loquacious had never seen anything like it. “What was that about Brenn's rent? Do you have a house here?”
“He's talking about the orphanage.” Brenn replied. “And I planned to pay it, there is no need for senseless violence. Loquacious is a rogue and a scoundrel but he is not a bad person, he has been more than fair in his dealings with us. And the Locket protects the kids, that's all that matters to me, and it's why I work.”
“I'd have thought the churches took care of the upkeep of the orphanages?” Magnus asked skeptically, his well calloused knuckles cracked as he withdrew his empty hands and made a fist with each. To be truthful, he was hoping a fight would break out – it'd been some time since he'd gotten a decent stretch in.
“They don't, not here, not anymore.” Brenn replied, stepping forward again. If bloodshed ensued, it'd be his family who'd suffer the consequences. Even if they killed everyone in the Locket, even the meister, someone else would purchase the land and chances were they'd be even worse. Brenn didn't possess the kind of capital necessary to ensure their safety, nor could he buy the land outright. All of his personal funds went back to the orphanage, and there was a limit to how much he could make performing benedictions at the chapel, and working part time for the free chapter in Amistad as a knight vigilant. “We rent it from the Locket, the orphanage itself is not a chartered house. It's just where I grew up. Let's go.”