Tark was originally from the Central Region. He only traveled West with his family after receiving new orders and a chance at promotion to captain. Traveling chances a man. His time in the Central Region reaffirmed to him that most vendors were decent people. Tark understood, people had their own mouths to feed and kingdom taxes to pay. So an extra service fee rarely rubbed him the wrong way.

While on the road to his new post. He came across a vendor at the side of the road. The vendor motioned his hand over the displayed leather bags. Tark quickly surveyed his inventory and realized that in fact some of his travel bags were torn. He stopped his horse and cart. The vendor jumped into his pitch. These special handcrafted bags. Bags imported from the neighboring kingdom. These sacks could hold the weight of a winged-elephant. But there was a catch. The vendor lacked larger coined currency. If Tark paid with a larger coin, the vendor could provide him with a smaller coin change in return. The deal was struck. Tark paid with a larger coin for the bag. The vendor quickly turned his back to Tark and fled deep into the forest. Tark was shocked and began to pursue. As he was about to give chase, he looked at the bag in his hand. The illusionary based magic had worn off. Tark was left handed a handful of vines. The vendor's tent also returned to its original form, vines and mud. Tark never shopped the same way again.

After careful inspection of each vendor's offering Tark was able to find the supplies and food needed to pass under the mountain. "May I also interest you in our crawfish special today?" said the market vendor. He presented an oversized blue crustacean. "Its meat regenerates up to three times, you can eat on it for a week," said the leather skinned vendor.

"This will be all I need, thank you," Tark said with a nod. He threw his newly filled satchel over his shoulder and began to head back toward the tailor shop. A familiar scream rose over the air. He heard glass shatter and a commotion broke out. Tark sprinted through the crowd at full speed. When he rounded the corner, he saw the tailor lying in the mud surrounded by pieces of glass. Still running, he could hear the scuffle still taking place inside. One man was huddled in the corner double over while holding his crotch area. A man with a bloody nose and too many ointments in his hair barked at his cohort to hold Luna still. The lesser lad, pinned Luna's arms behind her back.

"Two of you against me and yet you still struggle, how pathetic." Luna said. "As soon as I get my hands free, I will scratch your eyes out!" She yelled. Baleck became indignant. He sent a back hand across her face to soothe his pride. "Be still, pretty item, let me inspect you before my purchase." he said as he hand slid her cheek.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"That is enough," Tark interjected from the entrance of the shop. "Release her, now." he placed his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"Oh, who is this?" Baleck said as he cocked his head to one side. "A traveling boot-licker, here to ruin my fun perhaps?" he said with a sneer. "Do you know what I am!" his voice cracked under his strained vocal cords. He approached Tark as if they were friends. "Turn around, leave, and get out of my sight old man." Baleck was face to face with Tark now. Baleck patted Tark's cheek with his bloodied hand. "Did you hear me, you old fool I said leave-", before Baleck's could pull back his hand Tark grabbed his wrist.

Tark rotated Baleck's forearm, until two audible cracks were heard. Baleck had never broken a bone before, let alone a single bone in several places. His first sensation was shock. Like a doll assembled by a child, his arm was now situated backwards. In a flash, the pain shot through his whole body like lightning. Baleck screamed in horror, and stumbled to the door. To mend the pain, Tark swiftly placed his right boot heel squarely into Baleck's chest. The force made Baleck's shoulder blades clap. The airborne Baleck struck his head on the staircase, before tumbling into the road like a pile of dirty laundry. Tark turned from the door and set his gaze on the man who still held Luna. The fisherman drew his dagger to Luna's neck. As he shielded himself with Luna's body he yelled. "Come one step closer, and I'll cut her throat!"

Nitric knives are known for their light weight maneuverability. The knife now lodged in the fisherman's head was confirmation of the blade's reputation. Luna could even track the motion of Tark hand moving from his hip to release the blade. The fisherman dropped to the floor in the same fashion as a lifeless fish.

"Are you okay?" Tark said as he crossed the room and retrieved the blade. [+2 Precision]

"I'll be fine, please leave me be for a moment." She found a broken rod on the opposite end of the room. She brought the rod to the lifeless man, screamed, then beat his body until her arm tired.

Tark hurried to attend to the old tailor still in the street. By the time Tark reached him, the tailor had recovered from his unconsciousness. Taking in his surroundings and brushing the grass from his head the tailor sat up. "Did you do this?" the tailor pointed at Baleck laying on the staircase.

"He was presented with two options, and chose poorly." Tark said sternly. The tailor held his finger to Baleck's neck. "He's dead." said the tailor with a low voice. "Listen to me carefully," the tailor said with sharp eyes. "You have done a service for this town, take anything you need from my shop." he said and found his eye-glasses in the mud.

"Collect what you need, then leave the town immediately." the tailor began walking back into the shop. Luna emerged from the doorway. The tailor placed a gentle hand on Luna's shoulder and smiled with relief.

Beaten and bruised the tailor stared at his sign above the door. He faced Tark with hollow eyes and said. "You just killed the Baron's son."