Dragon Realm Cypress

Guster led Avalon through the twisting alleyways of Sparrowport. Down narrow steps and following thin paths until they arrived at a sheltered market place. The bazaar was ripe with merchants and tent stands. Races of all sorts displayed rugs of even stranger wares, some too dangerous to be sold in Cypress. Avalon had traveled through Sparrowport many times and not once had heard or seen such a place.

“What is this place, Guster?” Avalon asked. With childlike wonderment, she ran her fingers through the peculiar trinkets and bobbles. Her eyes widened at the rare shaped swords. Some she recognized from her time in Scorch, others she did not know even existed.

“Stick with me, blue.” Guster pulled her away from the wares and ushered her to another merchant selling glinting weapons, who sat quietly beside an exotic fruit vendor yelling out advertisements.

Guster sat cross-legged before two rows of finely crafted daggers of solid ice, though they showed no signs of melting. A frosty vapor rose from their razor-sharp edges, and white leather wrapped intricate hilts below an accented sapphire in each pommel. Avalon knelt down to inspect one, checking its balance and admiring the craftsmanship.

“You like?” The harekin peddler asked, his long rabbit ears twitching, “Tis made of crystal ice, from the ice elven empire of Frostblade. They do not allow foreigners in or out of their country. I had to pull a lot of strings to come by one, never mind twelve. For you, because I can see you are very skilled, I'll sell it for sixty gold trit. We have a deal?”

Avalon nodded and smiled. A fine compliment from this harekin, and a fine story too. “Sorry friend, I am just window shopping.”

“Window shopping is still shopping, no? Can I tempt you with forty?”

Guster snatched the dagger from Avalon and placed it back on the rug. “You know why I’m here Albev.”

The rabbit-like merchant’s grin sunk and nodded. “Today I am not a merchant, but your holder.”

Guster nodded. “I need my sendetti, I’m headin’ to Nacsirri for a bounty.” Guster handed Albev a purse of trit to exchange for the Scorch currency. “And I need extra.”

“I should warn you, my friend,” said Albev, his voice now whispered, “This is the last time I can help you. You’ve been blacklisted from the Network.” Albev handed Guster a light red leather coin purse.

Guster gripped the purse. He sneered at the thought of the Network betraying him. Was it bad luck or had the gods put a target on his back? “Cut de crap, Albev! What gives?”

“No crap, my friend.” Albev looked around. “All your contacts have been ordered to not deal with you or assist you in any way. Why, I could be killed for helping you out, but years of business with your father gives you a bit of leeway with me.”

Avalon stifled a smile as Guster glanced angrily back at her. He turned back to Albev. “I can’t believe dis! Was dis about the Tunnel Bar? Dat damn Maurice can’t take a joke?”

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Albev rolled his eyes and sighed. “This has been building up for some time, Guster. You knew this would happen if you kept poking the dragon. Well, dragons breathe fire.”

“Anythin’ else?”

“I’ve helped you too much as it is…” Albev lowered his head and covered one side of his face with his paw. Guster and Avalon inched closer to hear him. “You didn’t hear this from me, but you are now wanted dead or alive. A bounty hunter has been sent after you.”

“Who? Damn it, who?” snapped Guster

“I can’t tell you more than th-”

Guster grabbed Albev by the collar and lifted the short harekin into the air, rattling him back and forth. “You tell me who, Albev! Else I’ll skin your hide for a new coat!”

“Guster, enough!” Avalon tugged Albev away from Guster’s clutches. “It’s over, you don’t need me anymore.”

Guster snatched Avalon’s hand and pulled her back towards him. “Wait blue, I still need you.”

Avalon raised an eyebrow.

“If I capture Uther, I might be able to get in good with de Network. Dey might take me back, but I can’t do dat alone.”

“Alright. What is our first step?” sighed Avalon.

“The first step-” Guster stopped short as a familiar face pushed through the crowd. “Is to make sure she doesn’t see us.” Guster pointed to Siv and darted around a corner, yanking Avalon behind him.

“Was that your old partner?” asked Avalon as she tore herself free from Guster’s grip.

“Yeah, blue. It’s just like de Network to send Siv after me.”

Avalon pushed Guster against the brick wall and peeked around the corner. Siv hadn’t seen the two yet. Avalon held Guster’s hand and stalked down the alleyways until they merged into the main path leading to the docks. Melting into the crowd of merchants and tourists they weaved around the townsfolk and ducked behind a wagon of apples. Avalon checked to see if they were being followed, and low and behold Siv was on their trail.

“You see her, blue?” asked Guster.

“She’s close. She’ll find us soon,” answered Avalon, “Any ideas?”

Guster smirked. “A distraction.” Detaching the yoke of the wagon from the horse, Guster slapped the animal’s flank and jumped out of the way as the horse reared up with a terrified neigh and barreled forward into the crowd.

The commotion was exactly what Guster expected. The frightened animal bucked and kicked trading stalls and trampled guards and villagers. Siv was completely baffled by what had caused such a racket. It gave Avalon and Guster ample time to slip away from her.

The salty air was a crisp reminder of Avalon’s first journey to Scorch. As she prepared this path with Guster, she thought about reopening that wound in her past. She still couldn’t help but reminisce about the nightmares she had being a beggar, thug, and gladiator. A time she locked and chained tightly in her memories. After nine years, she had forgotten what the Scorch desert heat felt like against her skin, or a slave pit’s sand between her toes. Most of all she had long forgotten her debt to Guster. A fact that she did not regret, however a debt was a debt and she valued her honor above all else. The sight of the docks ahead roused her from her melancholy thoughts.

“Two for passage to Nacsirri,” Guster told the wharf master.

“Hold up Guster. Does Siv know that you are hunting Uther?”

“She does.”

“Then she would think of going to Nacsirri first. Buy passage to somewhere close, but not there.”

Guster looked at the wharf master who was still waiting for the payment for the Nacsirri trip. Guster smiled. “Sorry, passage to Whately Coast for two.”