I don't have much time to think, as the situation is unfolding. It isn't unfolding rapidly, but mercilessly. I could just call out, but that would give me away too. In an unfavorable way on top of everything else. I'll safe that option for last, should everything else fail. Sure, I'm willing to take a risk for Matylda, but at the same time I have to make sure to not make a bad situation worse.

A quick glance around later I have made up my mind. I fish one of the precious few coins out of my purse and snip it to a fruit merchant running a stall in between me and the approaching guards. He catches it with deft hands and throws me one of his fruit in turn without a second thought.

It's an exchange like many. The fruit the merchant sells are pretty popular after all, almost as much as the Sugar Apples. He sure is doing brisk business. I gently squeeze the fruit in my hand. It might just be one that is a little more ripe than most, but I don't mind. Right now it might even come in handy. The thing in general is quite curious to begin with. It looks a little like a mix of a lemon of some sort and a banana.

Yes, to my eyes it looks weird, but no one else seems to pay that any heed. For the better part, people seem to like it due to its peculiar taste.

It's a good thing that I have already seen other people eat one of those. Thus I manage not to make a complete fool of myself as I keep walking. I peel away the fruit's skin, much like I would peel a banana and take a bite out of it. It would be a sin after all to spend good money on a good fruit and then not even taste it.

I thought I was prepared. It turns out, that I'm not. Not really anyway or at least not good enough. Gods and goddesses! It is sweet. There is no doubt about it. At the same time though it has a prickly sour aftertaste that is beyond compare. It's enough to twist my face into a wicked grin while making me cough at the same time.

The merchant chuckles somewhere behind me. It is a common reaction among those getting their first taste of this fruit after all. The texture is most curious too. It really is a little like a banana, a very ripe one at that. At the same time it's a little like a lemon too though.

Sadly I don't have a whole lot of time to enjoy the treat. I take another bit out of it anyway, as I draw closer to the approaching guards. A third bite sees most of the remaining fruit in my mouth. I have hard time not grinning like a total madwoman. The things I do for a friend.

Then, just as I walk past the guards who are already dangerously close to Matylda's accomplice, I drop the peel. I drop it with expert timing and precision. I feign about as much innocence as is even just remotely believable too. The latter earns me a notification via divine whisper right away.

[*Ding!* Your skill Bluff has leveled up to level 5!]

That isn't why I'm doing this and neither is the sleight increase of my [Sleight of Hand] skill, but I'm grateful anyway. What really matters to me is, that the mushy peel lands exactly where the leading guard is bringing their foot down during their next step, exactly when he takes that very step.

I don't expect too much. Maybe I expect for him to call out to me in disgust. Maybe he could try to fine me for littering. It goes well beyond that though. It takes some serious effort not to grin or even laugh out loud, as he actually slips on the peel.

Now that the guard sitting in the dirt, rubbing his backside, curses up a storm Matylda's accomplice finally takes notice. Not that it makes much of a difference, because the stream of curses and swears doesn't go unnoticed by the young dwarven woman either. Since she doesn't have a customer right now, she is quick to pack up her things. And before the guard can get back up the two disappear into one of the nearby back alleys.

As far as I'm concerned, my mission is accomplished. Now I just have to get out of here myself. Oh yes, I really have to beat it too. The guard looks furious, as he gets back on his feet, with the help of his comrade. Even worse though, he looks right at me.

Of course I take note of the way he is trying to murder me with his gaze, even while he keeps spitting out a string of curses. Not looking at the source of the commotion, even as I keep going, would be much more suspicious than actually checking on the consequences of my actions.

I stop as he stalks over towards me, one finger pointing at me in accusation. Running now would be like admitting my guilt without even having heard the charge. Instead I just raise an eyebrow, which only makes him more furious. Oh, if only he could drop dead from a stroke right now! It would save me so much trouble and might even make this world a slightly better place.

Sadly he doesn't. Instead he stalks even closer. Close enough in fact to actually jab his finger in my chest.

“You! Scumbag! You did that on purpose!”

My left eyebrow starts to twitch as he keeps jabbing his finger into my chest repeatedly even as he talks. I'm so very tempted to grab his finger during his next jab and just break it. I refrain though. After all that could very well be interpreted as assault on an representative of the law. Instead I play dumb.

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“Me? Do what? I was just minding my own business.”

His face grows ever redder. Not even the other guard who is with him makes a move to interfere. Maybe this particular fellow is known as unpleasant at best even among the other guards? Entirely possible. I certainly wouldn't be surprised, if it were true. Either way, he keeps on raging.

“You tripped me up, you stupid piece of filth!”

There certainly are plenty of eyes on us now. He really is making a spectacle of himself. No one interferes of course, although plenty of people look at least a little uncomfortable.

I decide to keep acting like the careless fool for now. It probably is my best bet to resolve the situation without bloodshed. Not that I really would mind shedding some of this assholes blood. Not in public though. Not in a way that might make me look bad.

“What? No! I didn't trip you. You slipped. For sure!”

It seems that is good enough, especially as I manage to deliver the lines without breaking into laughter, to improve my [Bluff] skill further despite the recent level up.

His face is deep red by now. If it could get any worse, there probably would be steam coming out of his ears. Or maybe he would actually be breathing fire?

Either way, I keep up the act.

“I did? Oh … the peel? How is my fault if you don't look where you are stepping?”

That, it seems, is enough to push him over the edge. He doesn't jab his finger at me this time. No, this time around he gives me a proper shove. Maybe he expects me to stumble back a step or two.

I don't though. My [Balance] skill is up to the task. I barely have to lean back a little before I straighten up again. The skill even improves a little in the process.

That I barely sway despite his best efforts to make me stumble gives him pause. It is only now that he seems to really take note of me, as more than an annoyance. His eyes narrow.

“I know you, don't I, scoundrel.”

Even as he speaks I can feel him use his identification skill on me again. It doesn't feel any more pleasant this time around. No, it still feels as slimy and unpleasant as it did the last time the asshole used this skill on me at the gate. It feels like he is judging me as an object, a commodity maybe, and not a person.

I bare my teeth now in an unpleasant, toothy little smile.

“You should be careful using skills like that on people. One of these days someone with a temper matching your own and a lot less restraint than me might take exception.”

Now I move in close in turn, colloquially patting him down and brushing off some of the dust on his clothes and armor, invading his personal space in turn. Under other circumstances I might have tried to go for his purse in the process. This time around I refrain though. Instead I lean in close to whisper in his ear.

“Who watches the watchmen? Do you know?”

He stiffens a little, as I pat him down. He stiffens more as I speak. His voice sounds strained as he answers.

“Are you threatening me?”

I flash him another toothy smile, as I take a step back once more.

“Oh my, no! Whatever gives you the idea? I would never! It's an important question though. You need to think on it. Seriously. Let me help you along a little, while we are at it.”

I nod at the people all around us. Most obviously paying attention to what is going on even if they pretend to be looking elsewhere.

“The answer is, everyone. Everyone is watching the watchmen. Your uniform protects you, but it makes you stand out as well. Thus, nothing you say, nothing you do will go unnoticed. Nothing will be forgotten and very little forgiven.”

Then I nod at the other guard behind him.

“Your colleagues too, are watching. They know hat you do to fill your pockets. Plenty of them are in on it after all I'd guess.”

I lean in close once more, returning to a stage whisper, which most certainly everyone nearby can hear.

“Them you need to watch as much as they watch you. Most people will just swallow down whatever grievances they have with you. You are a guard after all. Like I said, the uniform protects you. Your fellow guards though, if they think that you are overdoing it, that you are stepping on the toes of dangerous people, that you are a threat to their schemes … they might do something about it. You know.”

I'm all smiles again, as I distance myself once more, both because of the look on his face and the fact that my [Bluff] and [Intimidate] skills just improved a little.

He actually is thinking now. The faraway look on his face is almost comical. I decide not to stick around and find out to which conclusions he comes. I shouldn't overplay my hand after all. Time to make my exit. Without any further delay, but without haste, I turn around and strut off with a cheerful wave.

I don't in fact intend to wait for other guards to do something about the ones that are especially rotten, but a little distrust among their ranks will suit me just fine. For now though I step around the next corner that doesn't lead into a dead end back alley. I speed up a little as soon as I'm properly out of sight.

A woman with an infant on her arm looks at me funny as I step past her into the house she just left. Before she can say anything I'm up the stairs already though and out a dormer window not much later.

Up on the rooftops I double back in the direction of the market. I'm careful though to not give myself away. Both dormer windows and chimneys serve as cover, as I bring myself into a position from where I can keep an eye on the market below. My [Stealth] getting ever closer to the next level up puts a honest little smile on my face.

Down below the guards return to the market too. It seems they did indeed pursue me, at least halfheartedly. Obviously they never even got close once I was around that corner. Now they return to the market. To the spot where Matylda was running her little fortune teller booth in fact. By now there are no more clues about her and her whereabouts to be found of course, so eventually the guards resume their usual patrol of the market. They resume their usual routine of scumbaggery too.