I woke up early the next morning unable to sleep through that nagging feeling of being watched. Even with the shutters closed for the night to keep me from being awoken by the light. I sat up and rubbed at my face before walking over to the wash basin and splashing myself awake a few times and felt the stubble of hair on my cheeks. I grabbed the sharp knife I carried and went about scraping the fuzz off my cheeks to be more presentable for the day. It was slow going to make sure the razor sharp blade did not nick or cut my face.

I didn’t know what to do with myself as I grabbed my minstrel clothes and looked at my minstrel shoes. I hadn’t gone to a cobbler to see about replacing them but they looked fine and usable to me so instead of using them with such dirty streets I slid on my traveling boots over the bottom of my minstrels pants and spent a moment fussing over how everything now hung from my body. I would go find something to eat and maybe try to find any constable I could to ask about last night.

Satisfied without a reflective surface to gauge how well I was put together I slung my lute over my shoulder and stepped out into the hallway. A few other travelers were making their ways down to the first floor to head out and go about their business for the day. I slid into the procession and exited Featherdown. Looking both ways I decided to explore a little and get the lay of the land a little better than I had last night. Having gotten lost so easily was a good indicator that I wasn’t being careful enough.

I didn’t see many children on the streets here and surprisingly few beggars on the side of the road. I wondered why something felt so different about this place and stroked the hair I let grow on my chin. Making my way to the square with the well I gandered at everything around and saw more than one place that had places to eat upon the first floor of their buildings and picked one at random. It was a quaint and quiet place that I walked into and a relatively young woman with a child strapped to her back went about putting out bowls of stew and hunks of hard bread.

I once again admired how these homes were built to include places of business on the ground floor. I wondered if those with multiple levels above two were like Featherdown and rented out their spaces to the people of the city. It would be a good stream of income to provide housing to those unable to afford their own places in the city. The merchant in me thought about how best I could leverage commerce here and what would be the best avenues of income. Being a holder of property could be good but would the laws here make me responsible for those renting from me. A dozen questions ran through my mind. Maybe after the next calamity I could be a merchant again.

As I grabbed a chair amongst them all I was approached with a bowl without being given the chance to choose my meal and wondered if that was just how it was done here at this place. The woman’s voice was getting that tone that a matronly woman would often grow to have when they had more than one child in the home. “Half bit for bread and stew, quarter bit for just stew.”

I pulled out a quarter bit and handed it to her, taking the steaming bowl of stew from her in return. It smelled bland but I could see plenty of boiled vegetables in it as well as some mysterious meat. As I decided I wouldn’t turn my nose up at anything I could get for a quarter bit here in the city as I had noticed that things were already a little more expensive than the smaller towns. That and I didn’t have the opportunity to offer trade or services to pay for the meal. I began to dig in.

I was right, the stew was unsalted and the meat was what I suspected to be rat. It lacked the gaminess of venison or hare and wasn’t lean enough to be mutton, certainly not beef. It would explain the low prices and how much meat was actually in the stew this morning, I don’t see how an establishment this far into the city would have fresh enough meat for this amount. The vegetables were varied and overly soft to the teeth and became mush at the slightest of chewing. Deciding that this was worth a quarter bit I finished the meal. I licked at my teeth and felt the varied bit of rat stuck there. I pulled out a splinter of wood from the table to pick at the stuck food as I eyed everyone in the building.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

What I assumed to be serfs or servants to richer families were dining here. Their clothes were too nice to be menial laborers, but not nice enough to indicate that they owned anything of their own. Groups of them in similar garb sat with one another and talked about their days to come and how many of them were working on their studies to hopefully move up in life and end their contracts with their current employers for better terms with someone else. A few groups of them sat closer to one another than what was usually seen as proper between colleagues and I assumed they either roomed together or something more. The mood shifted ever so slightly from the crackle of ambition and the glints of greed in some of their eyes. Though some seemed too poor to even have that and instead were looking for a cheap but hearty meal.

I stepped out into the square and looked around. I spotted something I was looking for. A lawman. His uniform was hard boiled leather with a cap of much the same. The tunic had the appearance of being stripped and I could tell that slats of leather were sewn together to form the chest armor. With a proper stab a knife would sink right through it. A purse of chains hung at his belt to keep cutpurses from easily getting to his coin as he must have been a lax man without the senses to tell when he was being robbed.The man had a sword and knife upon his belt. As I watched the man grabbed a young woman passing him by the collar of their clothes and whispered something into their ear. I used my dragon’s senses to listen into the conversation.

“Half bit for the crime of looking at me wrong peasant girl. Or we can slide into the alley and you can apologize with your body.” His tone dripped with malice and lust as his eyes wandered over her.

“I ain’t did nothing wrong good sir. What right do you have to accuse me of-” the guard viciously backhanded her and kept her on her feet by holding onto her.

“Half bit for arguing with your betters. Say another word and I’ll drag you in and the whole group of us will take payment with your body. So go ahead. Say something more and I’ll treat all my boys with you.”

The young girl produced a half bit and shakily handed it to the man as he let her go and slapped her hard on the arse to send her on the way. I immediately grew an intense dislike for the man that wielded his power against another so easily and with such corruption that I was starting to get a picture of why they might have not been on the street. I rolled my neck and slowly made my way around the crowd keeping my eyes on him. I wouldn’t be able to get the coin off him from when I made money in less scrupulous ways and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble of dealing with this small fry.

The different men that wore the uniform of the guard I ran across all seemed to be of a seedier nature. Their teeth are yellowed and grimy. Their hands are a little too liberal in grabbing others for pleasure and greed. I saw a pair of them viciously beating a man in threadbare clothes and worn shoes. His haggard face was unshaven and overgrown. His hands and knees knobbly from scrabbling on the cobblestones of the city.

I still had the missives to deliver and sighed. I would have to probably deal with the leader of the guard in order to get an audience with the lord of the city and it would probably cost me something in return. I’d have to make sure to be careful and have just a bit or two on my person for when they would inevitably shake me down. The brief thought of just murdering them did occur to me but it would cause too much of an uproar and leave a power vacuum in the city that even more unsavory people might fill.

Sighing to myself I resolved that I would look through the missives tonight and as I made my way to the spitting goat I passed just a hair too close to one of the lawmen of the city. “Oi! Where do you think you're going?!”

Suppressing a sigh so that I didn’t give this man any fuel for his prosecution of me I held my hands open and to the side in an unthreatening manner. “I’m just a humble busker heading to the tavern to ply my trade for the day, good sir.”

“Have you got your paper with the seal of commerce? Of course you don’t, that’ll be a fine good man. Best fork over a quarter bit for breaking the laws of the land, y’know I don’t like your face. Make it a half bit, because you disgust me so much.” His breath was rank and nearly turned my stomach while I worked to keep the rat stew down.

I turned away and fished out a half bit holding it out to the man. “I apologize for turning your stomach good sir. I will gladly pay the fine. Knowing men such as yourselves keep the city safe fills me with pride.”

My sarcasm seemed to pass over him as he grinned and walked away freeing me from his presence. I rolled my eyes and felt my knuckles crack under their tightening. Deciding I had enough of the public for the day I made my way to the spitting goat tavern and was greeted by the twins as they opened for the day. They were lifting a fresh barrel of drink up together and tapping it for the day.

I set up and started playing a soft tune to the empty tavern while I waited for a group of men to come for their midday relaxation so that I might tell a story to them all. A tale of when I was a questing swordsman perhaps? When I served a kingdom as a knight last. The tale of rescuing someone I dearly cherished. That would be my next tale. To inspire the soldiers to higher greatness. For them to know what heroism truly could be. A tale of knights and ladies. A tale from the order of the Mercurial Rose.