Ebony left the blacksmith shop, a newfound determination fueling his steps. He headed towards the town square, his lute slung over his shoulder. With every strum of the strings, every note he played, he was one step closer to his goal. He needed to earn enough money to buy that short sword, a weapon that would not only protect him but also empower him.

As he began to play, a crowd began to gather. His music, a blend of haunting melodies and energetic rhythms, captivated the audience. Coins rained down, filling his hat. With each passing moment, Ebony's hope grew stronger. He knew that he would achieve his goal, no matter the cost.

The crowd roared, demanding an encore. Ebony, fueled by the energy of the performance, returned to the stage. As he played, he felt a surge of inspiration. He envisioned himself not just as a musician, but as a warrior, a protector. A vision of himself, clad in armor, his lute transformed into a deadly weapon, took shape in his mind.

"I will be at the ball," he announced, his voice echoing through the square. "And I will perform a song that will be remembered for generations. A song of a warrior, a legend."

The crowd erupted in cheers, their anticipation building. Ebony had planted a seed of intrigue, a promise of something extraordinary. He knew that this was just the beginning of his journey, a journey that would lead him to a destiny far beyond his wildest dreams.

As the music faded, Ebony tipped his hat to the crowd, a silent plea for their generosity. He needed the money, not just for the ball, but also to purchase a suitable weapon. As the coins clinked into his hat, he couldn't help but feel a sense of hope.

Meanwhile, a group of shadowy figures watched from the periphery. Their eyes were fixed on the growing pile of coins in Ebony's hat, a glint of greed in their gaze. They were a band of thieves, always on the lookout for an easy score. And tonight, it seemed, they had found their target.

Ebony, oblivious to the danger, continued to entertain the crowd. He was lost in the music, his mind filled with dreams of the future. Little did he know that his performance had attracted unwanted attention, and that his moment of triumph could turn into a perilous ordeal.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the square, Ebony packed up his lute. It was almost noon, and he still had hours to prepare for the ball. He needed to find a suitable outfit, practice his performance, and perhaps even secure an invitation.

As he made his way through the bustling city streets, three figures emerged from the shadows. They were part of the gang that had been eyeing him earlier, their intent clear. Ebony, however, remained calm. He had faced danger before, and he knew how to handle himself.

Ebony, sensing the presence of the three figures, turned around sharply. His face, usually soft and gentle, hardened into a determined expression. He knew what they wanted, and he was ready to defend himself.

Ebony's expression softened as he recognized the three figures. It was Mitchell, Patsy, and Benny, three bumbling bandits who had been trying to rob him for weeks.

"Well, well, well," Ebony said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "If it isn't the three stooges of crime." He said to Himself.

Ebony put on a brave face and remained silent, his expression impassive. He knew what they wanted - his hard-earned money. Inside, he felt a surge of annoyance. These petty thieves, always trying to take advantage of others. They were like hornets, buzzing around, seeking to steal the honey of hardworking individuals.

"Look, if you're here to get more water out of me, I only got enough for food, maybe next week?" Ebony said firmly.

"No, no, no, no, Bard, no water tax today," Mitchell responded in a calm demeanor.

Mitchell, the most talkative of the three, began to ramble. "I've always wanted to be a musician, you know," he said, his voice filled with false sincerity. "But my pinky finger, it just wouldn't cooperate."

Patsy, the second-in-command, tried to join the conversation. "I've always wanted to play the v-v-viotel," she stammered, struggling to pronounce the word.

"It's violin, stupid," Benny corrected, the muscle of the group, his expression blank.

"Well, I didn't know. I haven't played in a long time, okay?" she responded sheepishly.

Despite their feeble attempts at conversation, Ebony remained focused. He knew that he had to be careful. One wrong move, and he could find himself in serious trouble.

Mitchell, the leader of the trio, scratched his head. "So listen, Bard, I saw your performance. You're a real natural for music," he said, trying to butter him up. "Hey, I got a proposition for you. I have a feeling this deal will benefit us greatly. How about you pay us half, and we'll make sure you don't have to face any harassment from other bandits?"

"I told you, that was all I had," Ebony replied, his patience wearing thin. "I'm a street performer, not a wealthy merchant."

Patsy, the youngest and most impulsive of the group, stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. "Don't try to play dumb with us, Ebony. We know you're good for it."

Mitchell held up a hand to silence Patsy. "Alright, alright, calm down. Look, Ebony, you're a good guy, and I'm in a good mood, so you're lucky I'm not stealing your whole bank, Bard," he said, placing a hand on Ebony's shoulder. "You're a very, very lucky guy. So here's the deal: you give us half of what you got, and you won't have any bandit problems for the rest of your days. I'll even put in a good word with Surter that you're a golden goose that needs to be protected."

Ebony hesitated. He knew that giving them the pearls would be the easy way out. But he also knew that it would leave him vulnerable, unable to afford the weapon he needed. He had come too far to give up.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Ebony said, his voice steady. "I need these pearls for something important."

"Yeah, but that can wait," Mitchell insisted.

"This is more important."

"I said no," Ebony replied firmly.

Mitchell, stepped closer to Ebony, his face darkening. "You're playing a dangerous game, boy," he warned. "Don't make us ruin your career."

Ebony met Mitchell's gaze, his expression unwavering. "I'm not afraid of you," he said. "And I won't be bullied."

The tension in the air was palpable. The three bandits, realizing that Ebony wasn't going to back down, exchanged a glance. They knew they couldn't force a confrontation, especially not out in the open.

Ebony pushed Mitchell away, his voice firm. "Leave me alone," he said.

Just as the situation was about to escalate, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Is there a problem here?" Amilco asked, his tone stern. Behind him stood a young girl, her expression serious.

Mitchell, startled by the sudden appearance of the two, tried to play it off. "No problem, man," he stammered. "Just having a chat."

Amilco, however, wasn't buying it. He grabbed Mitchell's arm, his grip tight. "A chat, huh? Well, this chat is over."

The other two bandits, sensing the danger, backed away slowly. They knew they were outmatched. Amilco and the young girl, with their martial arts training, were far more formidable than they had anticipated.

"Get lost," Amilco growled, his eyes flashing with anger. The bandits, fearing for their safety, turned and fled.

Ebony was grateful for Amilco's timely intervention. He knew he couldn't have handled the situation on his own.

"Thanks, Amilco," he said, his voice filled with relief. "You saved me."

Amilco shrugged. "No problem," he replied. "It's what friends are for."

The young girl, who had been silent throughout the encounter, remained quiet. Amilco turned to her. "Oh, Ebony, I want you to meet Mei, a fellow disciple."

Ebony extended his hand towards Mei, but she hesitated before shaking it. Amilco chuckled. "Don't mind her," he said. "She's a bit shy around strangers. She'll warm up to you eventually."

"Why would you carry so much gold on your person in the first place?" Amilco asked, his tone curious. "While I admire your ambition, it's always best to be cautious."

Ebony sighed. "I try to leave my money in a safe place in my apartment, but someone keeps breaking in. If it wasn't for those thieves, I would have had that short sword a long time ago."

They continued to talk, discussing their recent adventures and future plans. Mei, though quiet, listened intently, her eyes occasionally darting between Ebony and Amilco. As they walked, Ebony couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with the two. They were different from anyone he had ever met, a group of outsiders.

"Oh Hey, Amilco," Ebony began, his voice filled with excitement. "You won't believe who I saw today. A man, all dressed in gold. He was delivering something to Damir, the blacksmith. And guess what? He was carrying a giant sword, like a giant broadsword, strapped to his back. He didn't say a word, just this silent, imposing figure. It was like something out of a legend."

"Interesting," Amilco replied, his curiosity piqued. "Perhaps he's a member of a secret order, a guardian of ancient knowledge."

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"Or maybe he's just a really strong guy who likes shiny things," Mei added, her voice filled with a hint of sarcasm.

They both chuckled. "Well, probably the one-track mind of a mutt."

They continued to walk, the conversation flowing easily. Amilco explained that they were in town to attend a local event, a demonstration of martial arts skills by the monastery monks. Mei, though quiet, seemed to enjoy the company of the two young men.

"Why are you here?" Ebony asked, curious. "Are you here to pick up more groceries for the temple?"

Amilco chuckled. "No, actually, we're here to promote another street show for the Shaolin Monks. We did so well last time that we're going to do another one in about a week. Check this out," he said, pulling out a flyer. "We're going to perform outside the Kingdom Square this time. Last time, we drew such a big crowd that we had to cut the show short."

As they talked, Ebony couldn’t help but steal glances at Mei. She was a curious girl, with a sharp mind and a quiet demeanor. Her crimson robes, adorned with intricate golden symbols, made her stand out. He noticed a peculiar tattoo on her arm, a pair of bird legs, similar to the one he had seen on Amilco.

Intrigued, Ebony decided to ask. “What’s the meaning behind that tattoo, Mei?” he inquired, pointing towards her arm.

Mei hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s a symbol of our lineage,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “A mark of our connection to the ancient dynasty.”

Ebony nodded, still curious. “And what does the bird symbolize?”

Before Mei could answer, Amilco intervened. "It's a long story, Ebony," he said, his tone evasive. "Perhaps another time."

Ebony, sensing the shift in the conversation, decided to drop the matter. He knew that some questions were best left unanswered.

"So, what are you up to today, Ebony?" Amilco asked. "You said when someone broke into your house, you're trying to buy a short sword or something."

Ebony chuckled. "Actually, I'm on a mission. I'm trying to save up enough money to buy a short sword."

Amilco raised an eyebrow. "A sword? What for?"

"Self-defense, mostly," Ebony replied. "And maybe a bit of adventure. I plan on going to the ball very soon and getting more money that way and notoriety. I was going to save up enough money, but first, I needed to get a suit to make a good impression and get in."

Amilco's eyes lit up. "A ball? That sounds exciting! Maybe we could go together. It would be a great opportunity to mingle with people from all walks of life."

Mei, who had been listening quietly, rolled her eyes. "Another detour?" she muttered under her breath.

The sun dappled through the canopy of ancient trees as Amilco, Ebony, and Mei strolled through the bustling market square. Amilco, a monk with a gentle smile and a keen eye for detail, led the way to a tailor shop, its windows displaying a vibrant array of fabrics. Mei observed the scene with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

As they entered the shop, the scent of freshly cut cloth and the soft hum of sewing machines filled the air. The tailor, a wiry man with nimble fingers, greeted them with a warm smile. Amilco, ever the diplomat, explained their need for attire suitable for the upcoming ball. Ebony, impatient, immediately began browsing the fabrics, her eyes sparkling with delight. Mei, more reserved, followed behind, offering her opinion on the various styles and colors.

The tailor, impressed by their unique tastes, presented them with a selection of fabrics, each more luxurious than the last. Ebony chose a shimmering silk, as vibrant as her personality, while Mei opted for a more subdued, yet elegant, velvet. Amilco, ever the practical one, selected a simple yet refined wool, ensuring comfort and style.

As the tailor took their measurements, Ebony couldn't resist sharing stories of her latest musical compositions, her voice filled with passion. Mei, intrigued, listened intently, her own quiet demeanor giving way to a gentle smile. Amilco, ever the mediator, interjected with witty remarks, keeping the conversation light and lively.

With their orders placed, the trio left the shop, their hearts filled with anticipation for the upcoming ball. As they walked away, the tailor watched them, a knowing smile on his face. He had a feeling that this would be a night to remember.

Mei watched Ebony as he struggled with the buttons on his shirt. A small smile tugged at her lips. There was something about him, a certain charm and vulnerability that intrigued her. Why would someone so charismatic and talented be so alone? She wondered if there was a deeper story behind his solitary existence.

"I believe that shirt is a button-up, not button-down," she pointed out, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Ebony turned to her, a look of surprise on his face. "Thank you," he said, his cheeks turning slightly pink. He managed to button the shirt, though not without a bit of fumbling.

As Ebony struggled with the buttons on his shirt, Mei couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity. She wondered how he managed to keep his belongings safe, especially his valuable possessions. "How do you keep your money safe?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Ebony paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "It's a bit of a complicated system," he replied. "I have a few hidden compartments in my clothes, and I'm always on the lookout for potential threats."

Mei nodded, her interest piqued. "You seem to be quite cautious," she observed. "How do you know so much about security?"

Ebony hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "I've had my fair share of experiences," he said vaguely. "You learn to be careful when you live on the streets."

Meanwhile, Amilco and Mei were discussing a more serious matter. They believed that the same person who had stolen from Ebony had also targeted the monastery. The thief seemed to have a deep understanding of their routines and security measures.

"It's possible that the thief is someone we know," Amilco mused. "Someone who has access to the monastery."

Mei nodded in agreement. "Or maybe it's someone who has been studying our movements, learning our habits."

They discussed the implications of the theft, the potential consequences for the monastery, and the need to recover the stolen artifact. As they talked, a sense of urgency grew within them. They knew they had to act quickly, before the thief could strike again.

Ebony finally managed to button up his shirt, his reflection in the mirror revealing a striking figure. He felt a surge of confidence as he admired his new attire. However, his confidence quickly waned when the tailor announced the price: 500 Pearlcoins.

Ebony's heart sank. He simply didn't have that much money. Just as he was about to explain his predicament, Amilco stepped forward and paid the fee. "Consider it an investment," he said, a knowing smile on his face.

Ebony was overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"You can pay me back later," Amilco said, his tone measured. "Consider it an investment in your future."

As they stepped out of the tailor shop, Ebony carefully folded the velvet suit and placed it in a bag. "I should probably grab something to eat," he said, his stomach rumbling. "It's going to be a while before the ball starts."

Amilco nodded in agreement. "I know a great little restaurant nearby," he said. "We could grab a bite to eat there."

Mei rolled her eyes. "Another detour?" she muttered, but she didn't protest. She knew that Amilco was just trying to help Ebony, and she couldn't deny that she was also curious to see how the night would unfold.

◇

The grand ballroom was a sight to behold. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ornate ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow upon the room. A live orchestra played elegant tunes, filling the air with a sense of enchantment. Among the crowd of elegantly dressed nobles, a figure stood out. A man with golden hair and a beard to match, clad in ornate armor, moved with a sense of regal grace.

The orchestra, led by a tall, imposing conductor, was in the midst of a final rehearsal. The musicians, each a master of their instrument, played with passion and precision. The room was filled with the rich sounds of violins, cellos, and flutes, creating a symphony of elegance and power. As the final notes faded, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The ball was about to begin.

The conductor, his face flushed with exertion, addressed the orchestra. "Find tune your instruments and get ready," he commanded. "Use the bathroom now, because once we start, we won't stop for hours. We begin with power and strength. I'll see you tonight."

Leonard, a towering figure of a man, stood at least six feet three inches tall. His physique was lean and muscular, a testament to years of rigorous practice. He wore a simple black ensemble, a stark contrast to the ornate attire of the nobility. A pristine white shirt, its collar perfectly pressed, complemented his dark attire. On his feet, he wore a pair of elegant, yet practical shoes, designed for both comfort and style. His face, though weathered, bore the marks of a life well-lived. His eyes, a piercing blue, held a world of wisdom and experience. Despite his age, he carried himself with a youthful vigor, a testament to his passion for music.

The blonde hair knight, a man of action and war, stood there, a look of disbelief on his face. Music, to him, was merely sound, a distraction from the harsh realities of the world. Yet, as he listened to the orchestra, he felt a strange sensation, a stirring in his soul. It was as if the music was reaching out to him, touching him in a way he had never experienced before.

"I've never heard anything like it," Claymore said, his curiosity piqued. "Who invented this style of music?"

Leonard chuckled. "I did," he replied, a touch of pride in his voice. "I call it an orchestra. A symphony of instruments, each playing its part to create a harmonious whole. No one else has this type of musical gift."

Leonard launched into a passionate explanation of his vision. He spoke of the power of music, the way it could evoke emotions and inspire the soul. He described how he had experimented with different instruments, blending them together to create something truly magical.

Claymore listened politely, but his mind was elsewhere. He had hired Leonard and his orchestra to provide the music for the upcoming ball, and he was confident that they would create an unforgettable experience.

"Well, it's certainly unique," Claymore said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "I'm sure it will be a hit at the ball."

He turned to leave, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He had made the right choice. Leonard and his orchestra would elevate the ball to new heights.

Leonard watched as Claymore turned to leave, a sense of disappointment washing over him. He had been so passionate about his music, so eager to share his vision. But Claymore seemed more interested in the practical aspects of the performance, the impact it would have on his reputation, rather than the artistry itself.

Still, Leonard couldn't help but smile. After all, he was being handsomely paid for his work. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.

"They'll come around," Leonard muttered to himself, a hint of defiance in his voice. He knew that true art was often misunderstood, appreciated only by a select few. But he also knew that, given time, his music would be recognized for its brilliance.

Leonard hummed a familiar tune, the melody of the piece he would be performing at the ball. As he lost himself in the music, a knock sounded at the door. He opened it to find a monk, a solemn figure with a serene expression.

"You're here early," Leonard said, surprised. "The ball doesn't start for another hour."

The monk smiled. "I know," he replied. "But I wanted to ensure everything was in order. Your performance is highly anticipated, Leonard."

Leonard couldn't help but grin. "I know," he said, a touch of pride in his voice. "It's going to be a spectacular performance."

The monk nodded, a serious expression on his face. "I'm here to ensure the safety of your belongings and to warn you about the increased bandit activity in the area. The ball is a prime target for thieves and robbers."

Leonard, surprised by the warning, thanked the monk for his concern. He had never considered the possibility of his belongings being stolen. He had always been so focused on his music that he had neglected to think about security.

Leonard nodded, his expression serious. He knew that the kingdom of Iomud had a long history of banditry. The last royal ball had been a disaster, with numerous guests robbed and valuables stolen. He was grateful for the monk's warning.

He looked out the window, his gaze drawn to the nearby monastery. A group of monks, dressed in their distinctive robes, were patrolling the perimeter. It was clear that they were taking their duty seriously.

Leonard turned back to the monk. "Thank you for the warning," he said. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on my belongings." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "I suppose I should invest in a stronger lock for my instrument case."

The monk nodded, his expression solemn. "It's always best to be cautious," he said. "Enjoy the ball, but stay alert." "Of course," Leonard replied. "See you tonight."

Leonard glanced out the window again, his gaze fixed on the group of monks. Their golden-red armor shimmered in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the drab cityscape. He couldn't help but smile. These monks were more than just religious figures; they were warriors, protectors of the realm. With them on guard, he felt a sense of security.

He knew that their presence would deter any would-be thieves. The bandits of Iomud were a fearsome lot, but they were no match for the Shaolin monks.

Ebony, Amilco, and Mei sat at a table in a bustling restaurant. They had just ordered their food and were now engaged in conversation. Amilco and Ebony discussed their upcoming performance at the ball, while Mei listened intently, her mind wandering.

A group of foreigners, seated nearby, were having a heated discussion. Mei overheard snippets of their conversation, their voices filled with frustration and anger. They had been robbed the night before, their valuables stolen. The culprits were a gang of young bandits who had been terrorizing the city.

Mei's attention was drawn to a group of monks, clad in crimson robes, marching towards the city. They were armed with a variety of weapons, from bo staffs to butterfly swords. Their determined expressions and focused movements suggested that they were on a mission.

"Who are those monks?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Amilco shrugged. "I'm not sure," he replied. "Perhaps they're on a special assignment from the temple."

Mei pondered the monks' appearance and their unusual attire. "They're not wearing their usual robes," she observed. "And they're armed to the teeth. It's almost as if they're preparing for battle."

She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this. Perhaps the monks were aware of the recent increase in bandit activity and were taking steps to protect the city. Or maybe they were also on a secret quest, to recover the stolen artifact.

Amilco and Ebony turned to look at the monks, their eyes wide with admiration. Ebony, in particular, was captivated by their strength and agility. "I want to be like them," he said, his voice filled with longing. "How can I become as strong as them?"

Amilco chuckled. "Well, you could always join the monastery," he suggested. "But that's a big commitment."

Ebony considered the idea for a moment. "Maybe when I get my short sword and start training," he said. "I could visit the monastery and see what it's like."

Amilco and Mei exchanged a knowing glance. They knew that Ebony was a talented musician, but they also knew that he had a lot to learn about the world. They decided to let him dream, for now.

They knew that the Shaolin path was a demanding one, both physically and mentally. Ebony, with his artistic temperament, might find it difficult to adapt to the rigorous training regimen. Still, they admired his ambition and his determination.

"You'll have to train hard," Amilco said. "The Shaolin way is not for the faint of heart."

Mei nodded in agreement. "And you'll need to be mentally tough," she added. "The path to enlightenment is filled with challenges."

Ebony, undeterred, smiled. "I'm ready to face any challenge," he declared. "I'll prove to you that I have what it takes."

Their food arrived, a colorful array of dishes that tantalized the senses. Ebony, particularly, was excited to dig in. His stomach had been rumbling for hours, and the sight of the delicious lamb soup was enough to make his mouth water.

Amilco, always adventurous, was eager to try the new dishes. He had never seen some of the ingredients before, but he was excited to taste the unique flavors.

Mei, however, was more hesitant. She picked at her food, unsure of what to expect. She was a creature of habit, and the unfamiliar dishes made her nervous. But she knew that she had to try new things, so she took a small bite. To her surprise, the food was delicious. The flavors were bold and complex, and the spices were perfectly balanced.

Unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure watched their every move. Hidden in the shadows, they observed the trio, taking note of their conversation, their habits, and their vulnerabilities. The figure was a master of stealth, a shadow that moved silently through the night. They had been tracking the group for some time now.

The figure crouched low, their eyes glinting in the dim light. A pen and paper were clutched in their hand, and as they watched, they scribbled single words: "Risk-taker," they wrote of Amilco. "Picky," they noted of Mei. And for Ebony, they simply wrote, "Connoisseur."

They were a predator, a shadow lurking in the darkness. They watched as Ebony, Amilco, and Mei dined, their conversation flowing freely. The figure's lips curled into a sinister smile. The time had come to strike.

Half an hour later, the trio finished their meal and prepared to leave. "Let's head to the ball," Ebony announced, a determined glint in his eye. He raised his bag, mimicking the gesture of drawing a sword. "It's time to shine."

Amilco chuckled. "You're always so dramatic," he said, but he couldn't hide his excitement.

Mei, however, was less enthusiastic. "We're never going to pass out these flyers, are we?" she muttered to herself.

Half an hour later, the trio finished their meal. "Alright, let's head to the ball," Ebony announced, dramatically raising his bag as if it were a sword. "It's time to shine!"

Amilco chuckled. "You're quite the performer, aren't you?" he teased. "I'm sure you'll be the star of the show."

Mei rolled her eyes. "We're never going to pass out these flyers, are we?" she muttered.

"We could pass them out at the ball," Amilco suggested. "Maybe we can get some extra attention."

Mei sighed. "I guess that's one way to do it."

As the trio walked through the bustling city streets, they were completely oblivious to the shadowy figures that followed them. The figures, cloaked in darkness, moved silently, their eyes fixed on their prey. They watched as Ebony, Amilco, and Mei walked, their conversation filled with laughter and excitement.

Suddenly, Mei excused herself, claiming she needed to use the restroom. As she disappeared down a side alley, the two remaining figures exchanged a knowing glance. This was their chance.

With a swift, coordinated movement, they stock the other two into the alleyway.

As Ebony and Amilco continued their walk, unaware of the danger lurking nearby, a group of four figures emerged from a shadowy alleyway. Mitchell, Patsy, and Benny, the same trio that had harassed Ebony earlier, were joined by a burly man named Butch.

Ebony and Amilco were caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the bandits. However, Ebony, ever the performer, put on a brave face. "Man, you guys must be really desperate for cash, huh?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look, I don't have time for you guys. I got places to be."

Amilco, on the other hand, was visibly irritated. He knew that these bandits were trouble. He clenched his fists, ready to defend himself.