CHAPTER 58: INTO THE DARK STREETS
The man masked in a bandana held up a small stone rod, and the lock on the iron gate clicked open. He opened the gate quietly and walked in. Ahead, an overgrown garden waited. Argrave walked through, and Anneliese and Galamon followed shortly behind him. Argrave looked up, seeing several giant black towers looming above. He briefly turned back to the stone tunnel behind them, poorly lit by magic lamps.
“Welcome to Jast,” the man said. “That wooden token we gave you: hold onto it. You’ll need it. Your cargo will be at a house in the southern side of town. Search for the building with the—”
“With the horseshoe hanging from the metal fence—yes, I know, I know,” Argrave interrupted, readjusting his satchel bag where he knew the wooden token was. “That’s all. Have a pleasant day.”
“Right,” the man said conclusively, dragging the iron gate back shut. “Don’t blame me if you get lost.” He looked at Galamon and Anneliese. “Keep your elves in line. We won’t tolerate their kind if they don’t know their place.”
“It’s me you should be worried about,” Argrave dismissed. “If you’re smart, you’ll walk back into that hole,” he waved the man away down the stone tunnel.
After a begrudging glare, the man turned away. Argrave looked around the overgrown garden, feeling somewhat nostalgic. The gate finally shut, and he heard the fading noise of boots against stone as their escort returned to the point they’d been taken from.
“Do most human cities have services like this?” Anneliese questioned.
“No,” Argrave answered quickly. “Jast is special. Considering the number of wizards that make their home here, there’s a large demand for smuggling services. The Order of the Gray Owl is very strict with their management of the sale of magic goods, but a lot of wizards need a lot of money. Ergo, illegal operations like this abound in this city of magic.”
“I question if we may not have attracted more attention entering the way we did,” Galamon noted. “These people… they’re the sort that buy and sell information.”
“Well, I know who they work for,” Argrave tapped his temple. “And it isn’t particularly problematic for me if that person knows I’m here.” With that, Argrave turned on his heel away from Galamon.
Argrave walked about the garden without purpose, looking around and taking in the sights like he was returning back to a familiar place after years. The birds connected to Argrave via [Pack Leader] swooped down, landing on a particularly thick branch. In a big city like this, these birds would be largely useless.
“So, what are we to do here?” Galamon prompted, stepping up to Argrave. He carried Argrave’s lockbox in the crook of his arm, his other hand resting on the handle of his Ebonice axe.
Argrave snapped back to attention, turning back to the two of them. “First we get lodging, we get our cargo, and then we put the cargo in said lodging. I won’t say the rest here. Doubtless the little syndicate we employed has ears on this place. They already know enough.” Argrave turned, gesturing behind for them to follow. “So, let’s be off.”
They walked through the overgrown garden, carefully minding the plants and infrequent rubble. Eventually Argrave spotted a familiar overturned mossy gargoyle and a great abandoned mansion. At one time it may have been a palatial estate, but now much of the towering building was crushed beneath giant black bricks and covered in greenery.
Argrave walked along the outside of the mansion before they came to a simple stone wall. They followed it until there was a hole in the wall, and then exited discreetly into the alleyways of Jast. The buildings were all close-set and made of dark stone, so the scene was quite eerie. Argrave looked back to Galamon, who nodded as though assuring him.
After a quick and tense walk through the alleyways, the din of a great many people moving started to enter Argrave’s ears. He could see light up ahead. He moved towards it, and when they passed out of the alleyways, the streets of Jast greeted them. Though not as busy as Mateth had been, the place still abounded with innumerable people.
Even in midday, Jast was a very dark place. The bricked stone road resembled concrete after rain even when completely dry. The sunlight was partially blocked by the many towers standing hundreds of feet above them. It reminded Argrave of big cities with skyscrapers, though the streets were not even a tenth as busy. That the towers above were flanked by ordinary, unremarkable buildings created a strange juxtaposition.
It was just as Argrave remembered the city. The thought made him want to sigh, but he kept it inside. Anneliese was looking around everywhere, her curiosity unrestrained as ever. Argrave grabbed her and Galamon, bunching them closer together, before conjuring a D-rank ward around them to block the sound. No one looked at them strangely—blocking conversations in this manner was a common occurrence in Jast. People mostly stared because it was strange to see three people so tall in such close proximity.
“Now that we’re out of that little den of inequity, I can tell you what we’re really going to do. We have enough money to buy one of these towers about town, but it’s all in rose gold magic coins—a little bit difficult to pay for bread or a bed with what amounts to two thousand gold coins,” Argrave explained. “We need smaller denominations.
“As such, for our first order of business we’ll sell some of the jewels. Maybe even some of that jewelry from the ruins,” Argrave tapped the lockbox in Galamon’s hands. “From there, we’ll buy some of those circlets you can see people wearing. I mentioned this to you before, Anneliese. Look,” Argrave pointed to a person in a passing crowd. “See that man with the iron band on his forehead? It’s a bit difficult to distinguish his features, right?”
Anneliese and Galamon both looked.
“A lot of people like to wear those here…” Argrave remarked, his head following the man as he walked along. “It’s a pretty common item, especially on account of the ever-present criminal element. Just a simple illusion enchantment. Anneliese and I probably see past the magic much clearer than Galamon, a non-mage. It’s going to be difficult to blend in with people because of our heights, but we can at least disguise from the general public that you’re both elven… and that I’m handsome.”
Both turned back to face him, neither particularly amused by his joke.
“Alright, give me some credit, at least,” Argrave said defeatedly. “Anyway, from there, I have a great big list that I need to tackle one by one. I’ve been thinking a lot about that tax collector showing up to White Edge. I’d like to figure out what’s going on before we prance on over to the Burnt Desert. If the Duke of Elbraille has decided to throw in his lot with the rebels, then it’ll be over like that and we’ll be on our merry way,” Argrave emphasized with a snap. “If not… well, this won’t be a brief stop.”
“I presume you already have something in mind?” Anneliese asked.
“You presume right,” Argrave nodded. “I need to have a little chat with a man by the alias of ‘Stain.’ He’s a somewhat unpleasant person.” And a main character, Argrave dialogued internally.
“Strong words from you,” Galamon noted.
Argrave clicked his tongue. “He’s quick-witted, I suppose, but he’s not someone you’d really trust. He’s a rogue, a thief, a swindler, and many other such reprehensible professions. His biggest merit is that he’s got a high position in Jast.” Argrave shrugged. “This may be a dead end. As I understand, he’s inclined to travel a lot.”
Argrave had changed Nikoletta’s course because he’d directly intervened in what occurred to her before the game even began. Melanie was at Mateth and would likely remain there for some time. For the other seven main characters, Argrave could not remotely predict what they’d do.
At the very least, Argrave knew Stain had reasons to stay near Jast. He was one of three characters inclined towards rogue-like professions, and Jast offered many opportunities for such individuals. This came alongside his local ties to the area.
As Argrave was lost in thought, the ward that he’d conjured finally expired, shattering soundlessly into fragments of magic and dissipating into the air. He stared at the magic briefly before tapping his feet against the ground.
“Shopping… I hate to admit it, but I am feeling strangely excited. It’s been such a long time,” some of Argrave’s giddiness leaked into his voice and he cleared his throat. “Let’s be off to a jeweler’s I know of—no delays. So much to do…”
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Once Argrave sold yet more of the jewels he’d pilfered in the ruins guarded by the metal things, he went to one of the more reputable and well-guarded inns on the northern side of the town. It still made him uncomfortable to leave their lockbox there, considering the fortune it held.
Argrave made sure to clean himself thoroughly in their washroom, and he finally managed to feel truly refreshed for the first time after their journey into the Cavern of the Lily’s Death. There were few opportunities to clean so distant from civilization as they had been, and Argrave made sure to take full advantage of the time he had here.
When that was done, Argrave put on his now somewhat-worn leather clothing and left the inn with Anneliese and Galamon. Jast was quite a confusing place to navigate. The city was level and much of its buildings looked the same, so Argrave mostly relied on the shop signs to remember where he was. After a few misremembered turns, Argrave finally spotted the horseshoe hanging from an iron fence.
Just behind the iron fence was a simple little house. It looked abandoned and poorly maintained even made of stone as it was. The glass windows had been blown out and replaced with wooden boards. Argrave gave the horseshoe a spin as he passed by it, and it jangled noisily against the fence. He opened the fence’s gate without any hesitation.
“You first, Galamon,” Argrave gestured. “Not expecting trouble, but don’t relax.”
Galamon adjusted his axe and shifted the greatsword on his hip. “I never do.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Argrave commented as Galamon walked by. “Worrying, even. Everyone has to take some time for themselves.”
“Rich words from your mouth,” Anneliese noted as she entered after Galamon.
Argrave entered, shutting the gate. “If I could afford to, I’d be relaxing every day. I have bigger issues. I’m sure you understand.”
“All too well,” she concluded, walking ahead after Galamon.
Argrave followed Anneliese to where Galamon waited at the door to the house. The elf held up four gauntleted fingers, and Argrave quickly processed he meant there were four people inside. Argrave nodded and gestured for Galamon to open the door.
Galamon knocked, and in not half a second the door shifted open slightly. A chain stopped it from opening too far.
“Token,” a rough voice said simply, two fingers peeking out like a pair of pliers waiting to grasp together.
Argrave reached into his satchel bag and pulled free the wooden token, handing it to Galamon who passed it on to the doorman. The door shut, and then after a few seconds of locks jangling, opened widely. A man wearing leather armor walked away casually. He was armed, Argrave noted. Galamon took steady steps forward as he ducked into the house, metal boots clanging out and disturbing the silence.
Once they were inside, Argrave shut the door behind them, looking about. Two people sat casually by the house’s boarded windows, watching the outside. They had crossbows loaded with bolts that shone with enchantments hanging idly in their hands. They did not seem to be particularly wary of Argrave or company, instead focused on the outside.
“Here are your things,” the man called out ahead, drawing Argrave’s attention. They walked into what might’ve been the abandoned house’s living room at some point. The man walked up and banged his hands against a wooden crate. He inserted the wooden token into the side of it, and it popped open. He took off the lid and reached in, trying and failing to pull something out.
The fourth man in the house walked up, helping the first haul Argrave’s chest out of the crate. They set it down loudly, huffing. “Heavy stuff. What’s in there? Dead animals? Dead people, maybe?”
“Sure, act like you don’t know…,” Argrave commented, kneeling down and popping the lid. He did a brief perusal to ensure nothing was missing, but all seemed intact. The men brought out the bottle of liquid magic next, setting it down.
“Satisfied?” the man inquired. He put the lid back on the crate and jumped up on it, sitting. The other leaned up against it, watching.
“Indeed,” Argrave said conclusively, shutting the chest of books. “There’s another matter I might employ your little crew for.”
“Is that right? Well, the boss told me to pass on something to you, so let’s get that out of the way first,” the man sitting atop the crate said. “That little lockbox you had your man there carry? Someone’s got a bead on its contents. A local thief—everyone calls him little lord Stain.”
At once, Anneliese cast a glance at Argrave.
“Did he now?” Argrave said with some pleasure apparent on his tone. “And what does he believe is in my lockbox?”
“Jewels, apparently,” the man said with a shrug. “The boss thought you should know. He’s told the men to lay off, but Stain isn’t with our crew, so he might do something stupid. Just a friendly warning from your neighborhood heroes,” the man concluded, spreading his arms wide with a grin. “Now, what’s this business you wanted with us?”
Argrave let a silence take the room for a moment as he ran down the series of events that led to this. The tax collector had to report about an anomaly in the tax collection process. Little lord Stain, well-connected to the bureaucracy as he is, heard about my payment in jewels. He’d be drawn to this, naturally.
“Funny coincidence, this. My business was with him. Have any idea where I might find him, a general direction?” Argrave pointed with his fingers.
“You know him?” the man asked, raising a brow. Argrave did not answer, and so the man continued. “As to where he lives… well, the boss wouldn’t be fond of me running my mouth. I can’t help with this business of yours.”
“I’ve learnt enough,” Argrave said with a smile. “Galamon, grab the chest and let’s be off. It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen.”This belongs to : ©.