The Duchy of Aster was not so much a nation, but more a sub-kingdom within the 2nd continent ruled by the Empire and separated by a thin stretch of land known as the divide. Many former nobility and poorest of individuals made residence in the Duchy, because it was more vast wilderness and resources, but it was also more dangerous lacking limited social resources, and a variety of great animals known as Great Beasts. What men feared worse than any great beast and wild animals that roam every corner of this region, was the lawlessness of its region.
If you were well off, you could afford private security in a secluded villa, ordering what you need from various areas in the region. However, the most common residences were in the lower casts, at the mercy of the elements and various other outlaws and people of the lowly casts. The only way to gain the safety of the Empire was either to inherit a title or a magical ability, either of which could gain passage across the divide. Some would even risk crossing illegally to this border passage and risk their life or imprisonment to escape the slums. In one of the poor and destitute regions, a man walked into the door of an unknown parlor.
It was nearly dusk, the time when the sun was almost set, the time when most businesses would close their gates and fortify for the night. The shopkeeper was busy locking his store with every window and drawer, but before he reached the door, he heard a knock.
Tap, tap, tap. The hard wooden portal standing between him and whoever stood, he didn’t know what to think. If he was a customer he was too late, but what if he wasn’t? He reached into the belt holster to retrieve a large steel knife and placed it behind his back as he opened the door’s peepholes to catch a glimpse of the patron.
“The store’s closed, and it’s almost night, what business could have at this hour?” He kept his knife at the ready for the worse.
Through the peephole he saw the shadowy face of man covered by a hood and cape. He couldn’t see his eyes, but he could make out the distinct features of a finely carved ivory brooch attached to the collar of his cape.
“I’m not here to cause any trouble, I just want some information.”
“What makes you think I got anything worth saying to you?” He scoffed.
He did not respond but simply pulled out two golden coins from his pocket, showing off the grayish tin ring on his right hand. It was enough for the shopkeeper to change his mind as he closed the peephole and opened the door in a rash and suspicious manner.
“Get in, quickly.” He said as he escorted the man into his shop.
From the light of lamps in his shops that still burned he got a good look at the man. He looked pretty young, but didn’t seem that tough. Aside from his simple leather gear he wore four objects that caught his eyes, the broach, his ring, the leather string of amulet tucked in his shirt, and the appearance of a knife carefully tucked in its sheath. Although his knife was bigger, the man seemed not afraid as he placed the large knife back in his belt and sat on a seat near his counter to take a long rest.
“You’ll have to forgive me, the old leg’s still recovering from a work related accident.” He said.
“It’s not your work I’m interested in, good sir.” The man with the broach replied. “I’m more interested in who treated your injury.”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble mister and don’t want to start any either.” He protested waving his hands.
“I’m not looking for trouble, I just want to have a word or two with her.”
“Look son, it’s lucky enough we even had a healer around here, let alone one that makes it all the way out to the slums for some old broker like me. If I start giving our names, she may not like the attention.” He signed, trying to change the subject.
“I’m willing to cover the inconvenience.” The man in the cloak placed his two coins on the table and then proceeded to place three more gold coins alongside it. “As well as the identity of my source.”
It took five more coins to convince him, but eventually the shopkeeper gave up what he needed to know, just in time as the sun had almost completely vanished. As the man left the shop and headed toward the door, the shopkeeper called him back for one last piece of advice.
“You seem to have some manner of means son, so I wouldn’t go flashing around that gold of yours in this neighborhood.”
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“Thank you for your time, good sir.” He said walking out the door as the shopkeeper locked it behind him.
In the darkness around the slums of the back alleys and channels, there was the sound of water running into drains, stray animals leaping from stone to stone, but one sound caught the cloaked man’s ears as he turned the corner of the street. The sound of footsteps slowly creeped and some steeping from every corner, the smell of musty leather waffling closer in the air mingled with cold steel that was drawn from it. He knew he had company but he didn’t know where, but they wouldn’t risk attacking him out in the open not when there might be an eye witness or two. Still, his the quickest way to his lodgings lead him down a dark street, a perfect place for ambush.
“You sure he’s got gold?” A whisper came from the shadows from a shaggy bandit.
“He looks like a two-bit traveler.” Another bandit hissed.
“Could be a disguise.” A third bandit retorted.
“I saw it plain as day, he’s got at least a few sovereigns on him.” A lead bandit called out. “Once he gets into that alley, we’ll jump him.”
“Just try not to leave a mess this time.” The third and youngest bandit complained. “I don’t need to lose what little lunch I have.”
“If he fights back, I make no promises.” The lead bandit kept his knife close to his chest.
“You know it’s rude to talk to someone behind their back, especially when they can hear every word you say!” He was at least a 100 feet away, but they were whispered so low they thought they were out of his range.
“Did he just hear us?” The third young bandit asked.
“No can’t be, it’s gotta be a bluff.” The lead bandit brushed off his words.
“It’s not a bluff!” The cloaked man said, turning around looking directly in their direction. “If you want my gold, you’ll have to ask or earn it, but if you chose you current course, then make no mistake, I will fight back!” He sheathed his knife from his holder, a fine obsidian type blade with jagged edges, although primitive in appearance made the dim light shine like a light.
“Alright, I’m out.” The third young bandit pulled his knife back before the lead bandit pulled on his shirt collar.
“No you’re not.” He disregarded his whispering. “He wants to fight, let's give it to him.”
“Yeah, this place must be empty, he’s screaming at the top of his voice.”
“It’s now or never guys.” The first bandit leads the charge as they rush all the way to his direction with their knives held out.
The man in the cloak took off his hood revealing the face of a short black hair man with amber eyes and sleek face. He wasn’t muscular, but experienced in his stand as his dagger forward like a well trained soldier. The bandits reached him with a wild feral assault practically stabbing their daggers into the air. The man grabbed the first bandit's arm and felt a twist as his body grappled the floor. Within a second thought, he swiped his foot against the cobblestone road and dropped the second bandit to his back before using the hilt of his dagger to knock the lead bandit across the face. The third bandit simply stood there frozen in fear as he began his own feral assault across three defeated men. He kicked and punched and all over the streets, knocking the knives out of their hands he kicked them away as the third bandit dropped his knife witnessing the skill of this man before him.
“Don’t just stand there...do something!” The lead bandit called to the third who was still standing as he squirmed around on the floor.
With his knife on the floor and the man standing before him, he could think of only one thing. It was the very reason they had led him into the group and although it was exhausting, and would take time. He held his hands together and took a deep breath from the air, he pressed his stomach exhaled deeply as if summoning some force in the pit of his stomach. As he built up more and more fire, a light white smoke started appearing from his nostrils in one final exhale he opened his mouth to release a ball of fire from out of his cheeks. The fireball was fast, but predictable as the man took a step back to avoid the shot. It fell on the stone leaving a distinctive scorch mark near his feet, the man did not retaliate. He looked at the ground and then to the man, with a slight smirk across his face.
“That was good, but I think you can do better.” He turned his knife into a more offensive stance and took one step closer to his opponent. “You have about 2 shots before I’m in range with my knife. Care to try again?”
In fear the third man started once again to build up smoke and fire, by the second shot he deflected it with his blade to the air, sending it fizzy into the sky like a firework. The knife was not harmed, but simply glowed with a strange ruby red hue before quickly cooling down.
“One shot left.” The man said as he was ready to take his final chance.
By now the man was practically breathing in his face, at this range he was sure not to miss, but before he could exhale his second fireball, out in midair, singing his cape.
“Looks like you're out of shots.” The man reached his hand up in the air ready to reach his foe. The third man expected the worst, as he closed his felt the pressed cold material of his dagger against his throat.