The part of the city they found themselves in was neither extravagant nor dilapidated. It was a street in what appeared to be a middle-class neighbourhood with modest housing on the sides. As the sun had yet to take to the skies, although the sounds leaving the houses told her the residents were awake, the street was almost empty. Apart from her meagre entourage, there was only one other presence in sight; a stumbling man who did not seem able to part with the ground for longer than three steps. If he had seen the manner in which they had entered the city, he gave no indication of it; probably due to intoxication.

As soon as she identified the man’s ailment, Sage lost interest in him. She let Nyx slip from her arm as her eyes roamed the surrounding. Where to?

They had burst into a part of the street that was in the midst of making U-turn back in the direction it came from. On both sides of the street, the houses shared the same modest style with no discernible change. As it was her first time in the Rupheus, her knowledge of the city had exclusively been gotten from the library books she had nabbed, therefore it was surface level. Although it was obvious the place they found themselves in belonged to the middle class, she was lost as to where it was exactly. As such, she had not a clue where to go.

It’s not that difficult to find out, she thought. A quick search ought to do the trick.

To the two on her sides, she worded; “Let’s go.”

A dozen minutes’ journey into the interior and the scenery underwent a slight change. They came to a crossroad at which the houses on the other side appeared slightly better-looking than those in the direction they had come from. The other side contained more than just residences though, such as the occasional shop nestled between houses.

The first shop Sage spied was unsurprisingly a hardware shop. The sign hanging above the door depicted an axe on one side, a hammer on the other and nails encircling the name of the shop. The establishment undoubtably sold common household metalware to its customers. Again, not a surprising fact considering Rupheus apparently had more forges than any other city in North-Western Rekke.

Thinking of forges; ever since they entered the city, she had been able to hear the sounds of hammering. When her backs had been to the city wall, the sounds had been negligible; however, as she continued to streak inland, they had gotten louder. Also, the sun had revealed itself by now and the streets were beginning to fill up. Across the city, even from the direction they came from, more noises from hammers striking anvils came.

A tourist’s nightmare, Sage thought with a frown. Earlier she had failed to think about what a city famed for its metal-working entailed. Now that she was finally experiencing it, she very much wished to plug her ears and leave.

Unfortunately, that was not an option. Rupheus would be the first Lethian city she ever visited and it was one said to have a thriving black market. Because of that, she would not be leaving until she had scoured the entire underground market and made certain the there were no necromancers there who might be working on an undead strengthening method. It was a long shot in the dark, she knew; but it was all she could afford at the moment.

When she spotted a pair of city guards on patrol, she made up her mind to approach them. As defenders of the city, surely they knew the outline of the city. It would be great to learn how to get to the slums, a place with easily accessible scoundrels with possible knowledge of the black market.

“Excuse me sirs…” she began to call as she ran up to them.

However, she had not taken two steps before the uniformed men turned to her with frowns.

“Get lost slumtrash!” one of them hissed, his hand reaching warningly for the sword at his waist. “We don’t have time for beggars!”

The man’s words brought her to a halt, causing her to look around. Noticing a fair number of people on the street looking in her direction, her eyes left them and landed on herself with the intention of puzzling out what they found interesting.

The clothes she wore were not in the best state. After the fight with crone, they had gathered a fair amount of dust. There was the fact that her shirt had a hole that exposed part of her abdomen; nothing significant that revealed her scars, but it was glaring enough. When the witch’s [Ground Spike]-like ability punctured her, it had burst through to the other side; so there was a hole on the back of her shirt too which had been fortunately covered up by her coat. Unfortunately, said coat was ripped on the edges. Added to that was the fact that one of her boots was covered in a blackened smear; the dried mixture of the crone’s blood and brain matter. Combining all these factors, she grudgingly acknowledged that she had not looked this unpresentable in a while.

Her eyes returned to the city guards who were already turning away, feeling her facial muscles tighten in a frown. She might not be dressed in her best attire, but for the guards to assume she was a beggar… how fucking rude!

“I am simply looking for directions.” she said, pushing her annoyance down. Her original intention had been to tip them a few silvers to loosen their lips before striking up the conversation. That was no happening anymore! “I’m unfamiliar with this area, so would you kindly point me to the slums? Though, before that, can you point me to an inn?”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The last request was added after a quick scan of her companions. Isaac looked fine, his black armour pristine as always and his figure towering enough to cause the guards to cast him weary eyes. From the way their alert gazes shifted between her and the pale knight, Sage could almost hear the gears in their heads screeching as they tried to figure out whether Isaac was with her or not.

The child on the other hand, looked beggary. Her grey dress was not only littered with dark dirt spots, but it was in complete tatters. Basically, she was wearing a rag. Then there was the fact that she her feet were dirty from walking around barefoot. Added to the timid demeanour presented by her low cast eyes, she was the perfect model of a neglected child of the slums.

Giving the child better clothing was something she had not put thought into since announcing her aversion to taking care of the child. It was also something the bastard who begged for the child’s life had failed to take note of.

Dragging around a child with rags for clothing and a demeanour to match, was not among the smartest things to do in public. The two guards did not point it out because they were either incompetent or did not give a damn; while the commoners in the street were likely too self-absorbed to think about it. If it had been someone with keen eyes and the tenacity of the bastard back when he still drew breath, they would take a single look at the half-orc girl before declaring her a victim of trafficking.

Although there were plenty of disagreements between the different nations and philosophies of Rekke, one thing everyone agreed on was the fact that slavery was an abominable practice. In fact, the idea of owning and selling another human was deemed so horrible that the god Argun Himself chimed-in and declared anyone caught participating in the flesh trade would become subject to immediate execution. As the patron god of the Methos, the Magic God’s word carries a lot of weight on the continent; and considering the fact that the Imperium agreed with them on this matter, no one would dare partake in the horrendous business.

At least in the open.

Even if something was outlawed, it did not mean it had been abolished. As with all actions deemed illegal, there were always those who flew under the radar to disregard the verdict, especially when doing could yield massive profits.

The sad truth was that the slave trade, despite being outlawed, was a thriving business. As much as they denied it, the percentage humanity who got off on the desire to subjugate another to their will was not little. They were the kinds of people who were enticed by the idea of purchasing a helpless being to mess out around with. Humanity as a whole was a cesspool of sick fucks with sick desires, most of which they hid in the dark out fear and shame. Unfortunately, darkness was a perfect cover for the most heinous acts.

The appearance of Sage’s new undead was one of a child nabbed from the shittiest part of the slums and beaten into submission, forced to learn make to themselves appear small and while remaining silent; to appear irrelevant. That was probably how the half-orc girl would a look in the eyes of a keen individual.

That had to be changed.

“You want an inn?” the second guard chimed in. “A dirty beggar like you? And how will you be paying your lodging?”

“With the paltry amount that I have gathered over my days of begging,” she responded.

The guard seemed oblivious her sarcasm as he responded, scoff in tow. “Take the north-western road and keep to it. At some point you will see an inn on the right side.” He spat on the ground and scorned at her. “Though I doubt they will let in a dirty beggar like you in even if you offer to pay with your body. As for the slums… fuck outta here! You know damn well where your neighbourhood is. And what’s with the mask, you trying to hide your ugly face?”

The last sentence was said as he turned around to resume his patrol. His partner shortly followed after, but not before repeating the act of casting an glary eye at her and spitting on the road to indicate his disgust.

Watching them leave, Sage forced her hands to remain unclenched while she clenched her jaw. The two fuckers were the rudest guards she had encountered since coming to Aran. For a moment, she had the urge to order Nyx to tail them so she could beat them up later, but she stopped herself. They were just a bunch of morons who were not worth her time. She had more important things to attend to.

The fuckers surprisingly did give her the wrong directions, something Sage made sure of by immediately asking another weary-eyed pedestrian once they were out of sight.

It was a few minutes later that they reached the inn; not the most luxurious one she had seen as she as they were still in a middle-class neighbourhood; however, it was elegant enough that the cannibal crone’s road-stop establishment was a sty in comparison.

However, before she could take a step onto the inn’s porch, a beefy guard with a menacing look stepped in front of her.

“No beggars al-”

Sage did not bother listening past his second word before turning to her right. “Isaac.”

“- in the Horn Mug I-”

The bouncer failed to complete the last word when the ebony-clad knight stepped up and stared him down. Maybe it was the fact that Isaac’s face was hidden under the helm, or that Sage felt a burst of {Chill} from him, but the man guarding the inn’s entrance did not say another word as they walked past him.

By now Sage was fed up with dealing with assumptive morons. The moment she stepped through the doors, she rushed to the counter and slapped five pieces of silver on the counter before anyone could say anything

“A single room please,” she said. “Have a washing basin brought it at the earliest convenience.”

For a moment, the middle-aged man at the counter seemed at a loss for words as he examined her and her entourage. A while later. his eyes came to rest on the coins on the counter, causing him to shrug and scoop them up. Then he reached under the counter and came out with a key labelled with a seven.

“Take the stairs,” the innkeeper said. “First door on the left. The Horn Mug inn only serves breakfast and supper, so you will have to get your lunch elsewhere”

“Thank you,” Sage responded while accepting the key. She then turned to Isaac and gave him a look. “Why don’t you take a walk around town for a while?” she suggested. “Make sure to keep out of trouble.”

From the way the bastard looked at her, it was obvious that he was not smiling under his helm. The glare did not last long though and shortly after he turned on his heels and stormed out of the inn.

That left Sage with a child she had no interest in taking care of. However, for the sake of avoiding unwanted attention, she was willing to make a small sacrifice. Just this once.

“Follow me,” she ordered.