Vakdragnar stalked through the night with a quiet intensity. He silently ran through the streets chastising himself. This could easily be called one of the stupider things he’d done. Thankfully, for him, the night also seemed content to remain quiet. Most of the reputable people seemed to be already in their homes for the evening, and the disreputable ones were too intoxicated to notice his quiet movements along the shadows. That just left the guards.

Vak noticed the city had a lot of guards, especially for how late it was. Perhaps the city needed this big of a show of force. The only thing Vak could say for sure is that their ‘patrols’ were little more than an excuse to stop whoever they liked, and assert their power. They could also be called drunk, but on their own authority and on the power given to them by the rulers of the city.

Luckily for Vak, they were bad at their jobs. For men and women whose entire profession was to look for the very thing Vak was doing, he slipped past each one with ease. He knew it was not entirely their fault; he was being exceedingly careful. Vak was taller, it seemed, then anyone he’d met so far in Tirough, but he could be as silent as the night if he desired.

Ten patrols stood in his way between the Flame’s Fondness and the city guardhouse. None noticed him. He could see why crime was so rampant in this city, or Vak assumed it must be rampant. He had been nearly murdered his first night here.

Vak checked again to make sure there were no passing guards, and that none of the guardsmen were keeping a watch out of the guardhouse. He dropped the still groggy thief on the cobblestone by the front door, and then gingerly slipped the knife in the man’s hand. He stirred a bit when Vak moved him, but was still not fully conscious. Vak raised his arm, rapped on the door, and then ran around the corner as if six of the hells were after him.

The guards found the man quickly as he was stirring. They disarmed him before he came too and, after noticing the large amount of blood on the man’s knife, they drug him inside.

“Good” Vak said. “At least they will do their job when presented it.” With his civic duty completed he started to go, but was stopped by the guardhouse doors banging open. Guards poured out like bugs when a torch was struck. On their heels was a grey haired man. Just the sight of the Captain of the Guard, Garryson Lance, made Vak groan.

His demeanor demanded respect and his advanced years looked like they had not weakened him physically. No, Vak thought. This is a man whose years had strengthened him not diminished.

“Find him.” He shouted. The man liked to shout, Vak remembered. “Someone carried this man here. He’s either a witness or the real villain, either way he can’t have gone far.” As Captain Lance talked someone handed him a beautiful sandy colored horse which he mounted and trotted down the street. He continued to bark orders until he was out of sight.

Well, shit. Vak thought as he slipped further into the alley and began sprinting the other direction. It seems the guards are not totally incompetent.

He spent a tense hour playing cat and mouse with them. They very nearly spotted him several times as they searched the immediate area. He was even forced to climb a small home and jump along the rooftops like some kind of prowler. Eventually, though, he was fortunate enough to slip past their search parties.

By the time Vak made it back to the Flame’s Fondness his legs were beginning to ache, but his attitude was anything but tired. His trip through the city had given him new perspective, and Vak knew what he had to do. First, he needed a job to appease Lance. The Flame’s Fondness Tavern was just as full as it had been earlier and Vak could see the poor bartender struggling to keep up with requests. Vak made his way through the crowd and up to the bar.

“You again?” Rowland Flame questioned. “Did you happen upon some coin you’d like to spend?”

“I have come to take you up on your gracious offer of employment.” Vak explained.

“It would just be for the night.” Rowland warned him. “And all I can afford is four copper.”

“How about a place to stay for the evening instead, Roland?”

He smiled in response. Their bargain made. “Just one more thing. I’d prefer you call me Mr. Flame while you work for me.” Vak nodded, accepting the request, and Mr. Flame handed him some drinks. “Thanks, lad.” He said giving him a gentle shove in the direction of a table.

Over the next four hours Vak was made to serve the loud, smelly, intoxicated patrons of the tavern. He estimated that he served over four hundred drinks and broke up six different confrontations. At Mr. Flame’s insistence he tossed a few of the offenders out on the street. For Vak’s diligent work he received more than a few snarky comments, and derisive remarks.

It seemed the patrons were used to being served by Miss Hale, and they were rather vocal about their distaste for her replacement. Drunken men were quick to become emboldened by their idiocy. Vak just shook his head and rolled his eyes at the quips of his manhood. The juvenile attempts to stoke his anger. These men were like a mosquito bite to Vak. They barely registered as insulting. He had dealt with so much worse.

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All in all, Vak was pleased when he was done for the night. He wiped the tables down and Mr. Flame showed him to a backroom with a poorly made bedroll where he could sleep. Vak was a bit disappointed he would not get to try out a bed, but he reminded himself he was the one imposing and he thanked Mr. Flame for his hospitality.

Vak barely got four hours sleep before some damn rooster was sounding his alarm. As Vak stirred he had to count slowly in his head before he could be certain his anger was not going to flare up for being woken so suddenly.

It is good I am up, Vak kept reminding himself. An early start means i have a better opportunity to track down Nina Hale. He had decided on it last night. Tirough was a city in such bad shape that someone could get stabbed their first night. A place where someone could carry a body through the city without the guards noticing. Vak could not leave the search of this missing woman to others. More eyes searching for her meant she had a better chance of being found. Then she could be waiting on the tables and dealing with the drunks.

Vak wrote Mr. Flame a note thanking him for his work and that he was going to be asking after Nina for him. He looked around before he remembered that he had no provisions or equipment. He left quietly while considering his state.

I will simply have to get creative.

His investigation began at the bakery. Mr. Flame had told Vak of the boyfriend: the baker’s son, Destin Huxley. Vak’s gut told him the boy knew where Nina was. He trusted his gut, as his stomach had little reason to lie. Though, this morning it had reason to growl.

The bakery was perhaps a mistake, he thought, as the sweet scents from the warm baked goods reached his nose. It smelled amazing and he was already assuming he would not be given any handouts. I definitely should have tracked down and ate that rooster. The thought made him smile.

The bakery was a small corner store with large glass windows letting pedestrians see into the shop. The windows had colorful lettering detailing the name of the bakery and the store hours.

It must be a pretty good bakery Vak thought looking over the crowd of people clamoring to get their food. Vak strolled inside. A lanky man stood behind the counter with the puffy red eyes. The boyfriend, presumably.

“Are you Destin Huxley?” Vak inquired.

“Yeah, what of it?” The man asked without looking up. He was probably no more than eighteen, in truth not much younger than Vak, but the size difference between them likely is what had the boy spooked as soon as he made eye contact.

Vak tried to diffuse the situation. “I am here about Nina Hale.” He said gently.

The boys eyes went wide. “Guards! Guards! Help!” He said diving behind the counter. The other patrons in the shop backed away and everything began to happen at the same time. Someone screamed, and a few more took up the call for the guard. Vak tried to calm everyone down raising his hands in a placating gesture but it was little use. They had been driven into a histeria. Then, to make matters worse, two city guardsmen came in, swords drawn.

“What’s all this then? Oh, it’s you.” The guard with a scraggly beard said, recognizing Vak. He leveled his sword ready to strike if Vak resisted. “Come with us.”

“This is all a misunderstanding.” Vak said as he was led out of the shop.

“Sure thing…” The guard said sword pressing against Vak’s back. “Couldn’t find work so you thought you’d rob a bakery. What a piece of work.”

“That is decidedly not what…”

“Quiet!” He said bringing the hilt of his sword across the back of Vak’s head. It drew some blood but the guard was shocked it didn’t drop vak to the ground. Vak turned to speak face to face with the guard and he responded by punching Vak in the stomach for good measure. Then when Vak would still not fall, his friend struck him across the face. Vak straightened back up, and caught the next assault from the scraggly-bearded guard.

“Stop that.” Vak said anger creeping into his words. He tossed the man’s sword aside in an attempt to stop getting pummeled. The second guard, the bigger of the two, drove his sword through Vak. The point of the blade sticking out the front of him.

Vakdragnar’s anger exploded.

A red aura sprung to life around him; circling Vakdragnar like a small windstorm. Little crackles of energy could be heard as dry air became supercharged. The wind swirled around the edges of the aura but inside was still, and the bright sunny day was replaced by a red glow for those near him.

He spun around quickly grabbing the guard who stabbed him and tossed him back twenty feet, out of the windstorm and through the window of the bakery. The glass shattered destroying the colorful lettering upon it. People were screaming.

Vak reached behind him for the hilt of the sword and slowly pulled it out of him as he turned back on the scraggly faced guard. The sword was in deep and he was forced to grind his teeth as he grabbed the blade for better leverage. The pain kept his rage fueled.

The look on the guards face as Vak dropped the bloody blade to the ground had clearly shaken the man. Vak had seen that look before in the eyes of his family and friends back home. This guard no longer saw Vak as a person, but as a monster. It was a sobering realization. Vak recoiled a step as though slapped across the face. Shame replaced the rage.

The scraggly faced guard crab crawled away and reached for his sword. A mistake. The crackling energy of the rage aura sent a jolt of electricity through his arm and knocked him unconscious. He fell to the ground in a heap, his chest still rising, though slowly.

The aura subsided as Vak’s shame took hold. I let the rage boil over, and I used this curse to injure people, again! He looked back toward the bakery window to check on the guard and realized he’d drawn quite a crowd. They stood there stupified by the spectacle they’d just seen. Vak merely stared back, unable to offer an apology or an explanation.

A whistle broke him out of his stupor and Vak realized more of the guards were on their way. He bolted in the other direction. The crowd in front of him began screaming for their lives and running as far away from Vak as they could. It was pandemonium as people shoved others and Vak tried to do his best to flee the scene and remove himself from it before people began to trample each other to get away from him.

More whistles sounded out across the city like a noose slowly tightening around his neck.