‘Welcome!’
‘To NorthRade!’
(Intimidation: off)
The man’s boots were already worn from the walk here, and the grime of the main street only helped in trying to pry them from his feet. Yet, he cared little, his focus was ahead of him.
And although the air reeked of alcohol and piss, there were many different fragrances trying desperately to mask it. Vendors shout out their wears, hoping to grab hold of the attention of the fast moving mob. The desperation waning at their voices was a clear distinction against the common rabble.
However, behind the tattered cloth roofs of the stalls sat the more prominent buildings of the town. Yet, they too weren’t in any state that would be considered ‘well off’. These ones were mainly just owned by merchants and nobility that no longer had the option to leave.
Within a moment, the man is almost slammed into as two bodies just barely brush past him. One pummeling the other into the stone of a small pub-like restaurant, chipping rocks from the wall. It rattled the building, shaking the shutters open and rattling the rickety wooden roof which sat like a wobbly lid on the establishment.
Crammed in between the buildings were several groups of people struggling to hide from the elements. And although the alleyways granted some kind of protection, there was still the lack of good food and water. Not to mention the denizens that called the passages their home.
Rats the size of domesticated cats roamed the shadowed paths, sneaking away with food. And if ever so unlucky, even the feeble were dragged within the hidden burrows.
Despite the conditions surrounding him, everyone kept their eyes on the newcomer.
“Is he… Who wears a fuckin helmet with no armor?”
“Best stay away from him, man gives me the creeps.”
With every step a new statement, every breath a new gaze.
“Come children, don’t stare at strangers.”
“Keep it movin, nothin to see here.”
Even if the man had quickly become the center of attention within the town, everything remained as lively as it was before. The pace at which people moved was quick and sporadic. The care for a new stranger was mostly found in the shop keepers as they see a new potential customer.
Though there was something different about the streets before him, his mind was tugging at the answer but it loomed just out of reach. Within the crowd there were such diversity with wealth that nobles seemed to walk alongside peasants. Kids playing with one another with the elderly watching over. Though still something felt amiss to him.
And although he hardly cared to actually find a reason, a small glint still hit his eye as he peered over the people passing him.
His steps remain steady even as his eyes break away from his otherwise narrowed path. It turns to the sudden, unusual behavior of the people mumbling before moving way for an in-coming wagon. Though their words are too small to be heard.
And upon closer inspection, the man notices the coachman is oddly equipped in heavy armor.
In contrast to his rather luxurious metal suit, the wagon for which he was riding in appears to be an old beaten down tumbleweed carriage. Scorched by the endless days basked in sunlight, and getting dragged around against the mud like a beaten dog by two sluggish horses. It was like night and day, but the one thing that connected the two was the similar emblem hung from the knight’s pauldron placed on the side of the carriage, and along the knight's shoulder.
A mighty shield painted in the darkest shade of black with a sword piercing right through it.
The knight ushers the horses to keep moving, disregarding the townsfolk stumbling out of its way. They lower their heads and avert their gazes. However, their grimaces told the newcomer all he needed to know.
With a scowl crawling along his face, the knight passes the mysterious figure with a mighty death stare. Though only to reflectively flinch as the hooded man glares right back at him.
However, it was short-lived as the man breaks eye contact, prompting the knight to shift in place before giving a groan. He then swings his head forward trying to show that he was of higher standing than the man before him.
Though unbeknownst to the knight, the man in black had already averted his eyes to focus on the carriage itself.
Beyond its corroded bars, it was tight. Not even enough for the sun to find room. And the people who stood close enough to be seen within the darkened space were obviously ragged and terrified.
And more, he finds the people who have been noticeably absent from the streets.
Young women, all with different backgrounds and ethnicities, but with similar age ranges, and haunted by the same expression.
Their heads hung low, any resemblance of life had already been devoid from their eyes. And long discolored scars crawl along fresh bruises upon their shriveled skin.
The hooded figure can only watch on as the wagon creaks past him. Although not before catching the eyes of a young girl.
Her face remained unmoved, probably due to lack of energy, and yet her eyes still managed to drift to the stranger just beyond her incagement. And for a fraction of a second, their eyes glimpse each other.
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Squeezed in her little corner, knees tucked against her chest, she peers out. And from just beyond, his boots come to a halt.
A thousand words pass between them without either uttering a sound.
However, the carriage still moves towards the outskirts, killing their fleeting moment. Then with a single tear rolling off the girl’s face…
. . . . . . . .
. . . . .
.
" . . .Help us . . ."
Her faint and feeble words disappear off into the wind. The weight not being enough to carry it farther than the bars holding her in. But even as the crowd resumes their usual behavior, her words linger behind the man’s darkened shroud.
Then ultimately, he disappears from her sight. Fading into the masses.
A stutter reaches the man’s step as he makes his way into the darkness of an alleyway. A group sitting within shoot him concerned gazes before skittering away at the sound of shouting further in.
“Ya’re new here ain’t ya?” a lanky man questions as a wry smile breaks across his face, “let us give ya a tour around, if ya cough up a few coins…”
They stand just a bit away staring the man, seeing if he would comply or try to resist. And yet, all he did was stop and stand still.
“Yo, ya deaf? I’m saying you let us give ya a tour for some coin, ya hear me?” He leans his body forward before clicking his tongue. “Not gonna say nothing? Alright, we got ways of making ya hear.”
He draws a dagger for before tilting his head towards his lackeys. And in response, they too draw their own weapons.
“Let us teach this guy how to respond when he’s bein talked to.”
“Look buddy…” a chubby one begins in a low tone while stepping forward first, “if ya care for ya’re life, then spare the conflict and just drop what ya got and be gone.”
Although before he can take another step, the lanky one stops him with a yank to his shoulder. The group turns to where their leader glared, an irritated crooked smile hanging from his pale lips.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” a shout flows between them as their eyes finally reach the intruder standing at the edge of the alleyway.
The sun only held onto the knight’s silhouette for a moment. Showing not only her feminine frame but the curvature of the armor she wore. Though what struck the hooded figure’s gaze was the tail swaying behind as the knight make her approach.
A scoff escapes a few of the goons, and the lanky one just clicks their tongue. “Ya again…”
“Have I not taught you all to stop batter up the civilians?” the knight continues on.
The figure remains still as they banter back and forth, only shifting his gaze every so often. A bewilderment hidden somewhere deep pulled him to look over her.
She had mostly normal human features: a young barely tanned complexion, otherwise soft amber eyes though they had been narrowed for the moment, even her hair. Though her hair was still odd as it was messy, long, and a grey with the exception of only the strands running down her shoulders being seemingly dipped in ink.
Yet, it was what sat atop her head that caused the figure’s face to break slightly. They were ears… animal ears… He involuntarily looks back over her once more, yet it was still evident…
With a slight shake of his head he look closer at the armor she wore. An iron breastplate, pauldrons, bracers, and greaves. It matched the knights from the carriage before, however, the insignia wasn’t hanging where they others had theirs.
It hung from a thick metal collar around her neck.
“Ya’d better stay out of our way!!” the lanky thug states as he points his dagger towards the lone knight, “unless ya wanna end up–”
The thug grunts as the air leaves his lungs. Within a short breath, the knight had lunged forward, covering the distance needed to make a strike. She had plunged the pommel of her sword into his gut before he could finish.
He collapsed with only a subtle wheeze of air.
“Get that bitch,” one of the other goons state and the chubbier one begins his advance first.
Even with the large club and weightier body, he descends quickly upon her. The other two following quickly behind. A skinny junky with a jagged broken short sword and a taller brawler with dirtied gauntlets.
The knight eyed their weapons, assessing their fighting styles before considering placing her hand upon the hilt of her sword. The longsword at her hip was nothing special, even with the pommel and guard being decorated with a gold covering. The blade was only made from steel, though it shined like silver within the darkened alleyway.
As she takes her stance the only thing to move from her is the sternness of her eyes. They lock with the weapon of the junky as he dives in first.
She dances her blade across his, not only breaking but cutting it in two. The motion drags him to her side where she easily follows it up with a bash to the back of his head. Without even a grunt, he collapses.
However, she doesn’t stop moving. Dodging a punch from the brawler before using him as a springboard to launch towards the club wielder. His eyes widen as her blade pins his weapon to the wall behind him.
Then without warning, his mouth is forced closed as the knight's knee connects with his jaw. He slumps unconscious just as the knight reaches for her weapon.
Although as she tries, the brawler throws a punch. It misses by a mere inch as she lunges backward. He just gives her an irritated glare before throwing himself into another punch.
She slips past it, wrapping her arm behind his neck before swiping her leg around his. And without losing momentum, she pulls his leg out from under him. His body slams hard into the dirt bellow him.
A sign leaves her as she walks over to retrieve her blade.
“Sorry for the trouble, hopefully they won’t be bothering you—” she cuts herself short as she turns to find the man had seemingly disappeared. While scratching her cheek in confusion, she wonders just where he could have gone and how she didn’t notice he’d left.
- Somewhere in the maze of alleyways -
His stomach grumbles and groans angrily as he falls flat against a building. Energy quickly vanishes from his legs as his eyes begin to crawl towards his arms. A drool reaches his tongue as he stares on.
He shakes his head, sighing in frustration. His body slumps and he pulls himself again the side of a barrel. Without a source of currency, he’d just need to sleep to mask his hunger.
His eyelids crinkle before creeping open. A scent reached his nose, waking him from his slumber. With what strength he had, he pulls himself from the crevice he’d crammed himself in.
The evening’s sun bore on him as he steps out into the light. He was being driven by the smell coming from somewhere nearby. Or maybe it was just an illusion, he couldn’t tell nor did he care. Though as soon as he rounds a corner, he finds it.
A young woman sat stirring a rather large pot over a small fire. She happily serves the bowls of stew to any of the homeless that decided to come to her.The man hides behind the corner at first, eyeing the surroundings and the people around the woman. He watched to see if there was any kind of poison within the food. And yet, to his surprise, the people ate happily. Even returning the bowl without difficulty.
Although he tries to remain hidden, the aroma was too strong. Luring him in like a trap. He couldn’t help but grunt before moving forward.
Driven by his hunger, he begins to approach the lady.