My horse draws alongside the carriage being driven by Guy, the luggage trunks loaded securely within it. None of the railyard staff challenge us when we were leaving, easily giving way at a polite nod from myself. I hear Guy give an almost imperceptible sigh of relief as we make our way down the cobbled road, the hooves of the horses clacking rhythmically. I almost want to reprimand Guy for getting nervous about something that we have done many times before, but I manage catch myself just in time.

We can't afford to get careless. One slip up is all that it takes to ruin the good thing we have going on here.

Neither of us say a word as the horses canter down the road, the evening dusk closing in. The carriage is nondescript, no one would be able to guess the cargo without actually examining the luggage trunks stowed within. Guy and I steadily make our way, turning down Deshawn City's side streets to avoid any possible Gendarme patrols. The streets steadily get narrower the deeper we go, and the scents nastier as well. There's the heavy scent of laundry hung from the windows of the nearby tenements combined with the sourness of unwashed bodies from the passersby, a stark contrast to the perfumed nobles you meet in the wealthier districts.

But hanging over it all is the stench of horse shit in the streets. City workers don't bother cleaning this area as regularly as the other places. Which means we have arrived.

"That was close." Guy mutters as he takes a handkerchief out of his jacket to wipe and applying it to his brow, "The Gendarme won't bother us at Temple."

Both of us turn around the bend and are confronted with a shabby church standing dead center at a junction. No holy symbols adorn the building but light can be seen coming from the window, while freshly laid power lines have been attached at its base. No gods are worshipped here. But the church remains important, perhaps the most important, building in this entire district.

It is after all the headquarters of the Order of Impartial Justice. To hammer the point home, a pair of conscripts in Order colors stand guard at the doors, occasionally letting people in. Petitioners, seeking the Order's aid.

There used to be gods in this world. But upon the final defeat of the demon king, the gods went silent as well. The priests claimed that because the great evil had passed, the gods had granted humanity the freedom to live as we wished. The same priests then belatedly realized that in a world with no gods, they would be out of a job as well.

So the churches and temples were abandoned, left to fall into decay. Until the Order snapped up the property on the cheap. Now you can find an Order chapter based at almost every major former religious site. And Temple District, appropriately named after the temple the Order has made their home in, had become their base in Deshawn City. Once a benighted slum for the people who came to Deshawn City to make it big but never did, it became somewhat less benighted when the Order showed up.

The local residents engaged the Order to provide protection, driving off the more vicious gangs who foolishly chose to fight magic knights. The smarter gangs soon realized that the Order was the new kingpin on the block and began paying protection as well. So everyone became a large happy family, living under the benevolence of the Order.

"What's the deal with the pouches on their backs, Mac?" Guy asks as he eyeballs an Order enforcer in casual dress lounging against a streetlamp, sword hanging loosely by the man's side. A pouch had been conspicuously strapped to his back, just like all the other Order knights roaming about.

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"Some ritual Order Knights engage in." I shrug, "They call it 'Turning The Back.' When an Order Knight completes his mission, he turns his back on his employer and the payment is placed in the pouch."

"That's rather backward." Guy muses, "Why insult your employer this way? Never heard a Knightly House eager to do that."

"That's because the Order is a pack of weirdos." I quickly salute an Order Knight who glares at me the moment I said that. Damn. Have to watch my mouth here.

Both Guy and I fall back into silence, wending our way down the street and leaving the frowning Order Knight behind us. The road eventually opens up into a square, surrounded on all sides by townhouses. A large pit had been dug in a corner, with wooden stands built around it. I can't see what's inside the pit, but the sound of animal growling comes out of it, as clear as day. A lanky man dressed in a garish tuxedo and top hat circles the pit, keeping an eye on whatever is inside while a crowd slowly begins to gather. The dog fights are probably scheduled for tonight then.

"So yeah, the Order." I say, getting back to the topic, "When they turn their back on an employer its something like a symbolic breaking of ties. You pay them and they leave, that's it. There's no further connection between the two of you. An Order Knight might save you today and the very next day he could be burning your house down."

"That's kind of ... I dunno ... sad?" Guy murmurs, a faraway look in his eyes, "I heard people say the Order helped the poor, people who could not hire a proper Knightly House, that sort of thing?"

"They do." I grunt as both of us come to a stop next to one of the town houses, "You just need to remember there is a limit to the relationship. The Order is not here to be heroes."

Guy brings the carriage to a stop and starts to unload the trunks while I tie the horses to a nearby metal post set up for this purpose. Temple is where the underground market does its business. With Order Knights protecting it, the Gendarmes did not dare interfere. Even the Knightly Houses would think twice about raiding the Order's turf. But the underground market was actually a block away from where we had stopped.

Neither Guy nor myself actually wanted to enter the underground market. We obviously did not want to be spotted carrying contraband in such a dubious place. All our dealings were handled by a fence that we were well acquainted with. I walk up to the door and begin rapping it loudly. No response.

"No one's home." I say to Guy who is struggling under the weight of the luggage trunks.

"Might have gone to see the dog fight." Guy shrugs as I help him with a pair of the luggage trunks, "We're just going to have to wait."

A loud voice shouts from the fighting pit, carrying over the din of Deshawn City.

"COME ONE AND ALL, WE HAVE A GREAT SHOW FOR YOU TONIGHT!"

"You want to see the fight?" I ask Guy as we set the trunks down.

"Nah. Don't want to lose track of the merchandise." Guy shakes his head, "Eyes on the prize and all that."

I nod in agreement and tilt my head up, admiring the orange shade that covers the sky.

"TONIGHT IN ONE CORNER IS THE KING OF THE BEYOND, THE SLAYER, THE ONE AND ONLY DIRE BEAR OF DESHAWN CITY!"

"They got bears fighting in the ring now?" I ask Guy while offering a cigarette from my pack.

"No thanks." Guy refuses, "Still don't smoke. I heard the ringmaster bought the dire bear from the Order. Somebody requested them to stop the animal from ravaging their village. Something like that."

"AND WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU ALL TONIGHT. THE BEAR WILL NOT BE FIGHTING MERE DOGS, OH NO! THERE'S A REAL CHALLENGER STEPPING UP!"

I light up my smoke and take a hit of tobacco. I really should try to stop. Smoking is apparently bad for the lungs. Big shot Knights do it to show they can afford to chug healing potions regularly. I'm just hooked to the taste though.

"AND IN THE OTHER CORNER, IS THE CONQUERER OF MANY A FIELD, WHOSE SWORD HAS WON THE SUBMISSION OF THE LADIES OF THE NIGHT."

The moment Guy hears this part of the ringmaster's spiel his face immediately goes pale.

"THE MAN WHOSE NAME IS CRIED OUT IN THE DEPTHS OF PASSION! LA BEASTIA!"

"Oh shit!" Guy yelps and immediately darts off in the direction of the fighting pit.

"What?" I exclaim in confusion, while gathering up the luggage trunks and hoofing it as fast as I am able.

"AND NOW, WE SHALL SEE, WHICH OF THESE BEASTS WILL PREVAIL IN COMBAT!"

I quickly catch up with Guy and we plunge into the thronging crowd, pushing our way to the edge of the arena, the ringmaster's voice resounding in our ears.

"TO THE DEATH!"