The marketplace was packed dense with people, making movement a trial in patience.
Rat simply chose to ride the current of people after trying to resist its pull for several minutes.
He’d spent the majority of the morning trying to find somewhere to work at, but most people who had laid their eyes on him shut their door instantly. While Rat didn’t find much affection for them in his heart, he probably would’ve done the same if a skinny beggar would knock on his door with gaunt eyes, wearing filthy rags.
A few merchants and shop-keeps did take a minute to ask him what he could do, but apparently knowing how to read common on a basic level and counting to a hundred simply didn’t cut it. He couldn’t resent the orphanage for this, he knew, but that didn’t quite soothe the sting of humiliation after hearing a rotund caravan trader told him that he “didn’t need another charity case”.
And so, Rat finally decided to settle on the world’s 2nd oldest profession – he’d steal his next meal.
This didn’t sit well with rat.
The matrons at the orphanage always told him that stealing is wrong, and swatted him silly that one time he did steal a loaf of bread from the pantry at night.
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“Only a rogue takes from others’ hard work and property – such a man is loathsome in the bright one’s eyes”, they said.
And yet it didn’t seem like there’s any other choice, seeing how the last few days he could scantly find any place that would take him – and he wouldn’t join the military; he’d heard rumors in the slums on how the undead front was claiming soldiers like the king takes taxes. So Rat would steal.
Finally, he spotted a decent chance, as far as he could tell – an older merchant with sunken eyes, hawking some form of exotic fruit, had begun arguing with another man over one thing or another. He’d sneak one of the emerald-colored, fist-sized round fruits and no one would be the wiser. The merchant had six laden baskets filled with the stuff, so he wouldn’t even know, right?
He walked as naturally as he could, and once he passed the stall, faked a stumble and nabbed a fruit from one of the baskets further away from the arguing pair. Instantly, the merchant’s eyes locked on him, widened, and then again narrowed in anger.
“Guards! That little shit's a THIEF!”
Rat ran.
The crowds around him began parting, not wanting to stand in the way of the city guards rather than enabling his escape. Behind him, armored boots clacked against the cobblestone as shouts rang out.
“Stop right there kid! Don’t make this harder than it needs to be!”
Rat didn’t spare them a moment’s thought and kept running. On his right, an alley came into view, and Rat took his chance. Shoving down a barrel of rainwater from last night’s shower, he bolted into the alley, only to find himself faced with wooden walls on all three sides. It was a dead end.
He didn’t manage to turn around before something struck his head from behind and the world went black.