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The Forsaken
Chapter Four - Death To The Queen

Chapter Four - Death To The Queen

CHAPTER FOUR

DEATH TO THE QUEEN

The city of Union, bordering the far north, is historically amongst the first large cities built in the kingdom of Ferro. Long ago, the ruling houses united to create this marvel of men. With the tallest walls, it stood as the guardian of its kingdom; protecting the city from the Great North also known as the Withering Lands, and all the dangers they brought. Standing proud, the city persevered for centuries; for centuries they considered it a beacon of greatness and a symbol of the ruling class. This, however, was in the past. Now, it can be called nothing more than a glorified ghetto. Through a history of unfortunate events, the city is long forsaken; except by those who had little say in the matter.

Low-end work and poverty thrive in the once-glorious city. Overpopulated with a vast variety of immigrants from wars, people escaping their past, and freed slaves. Thin and stretched far beyond its limits, it makes suitable breeding grounds for crime. If there ever was an example of how the great can fall from grace, Union would be a prime example.

On the broken stone pavements, an unkempt scarlet-haired woman with emerald eyes walks. Thin and petite, her beauty is hidden amongst the tattered rags she wears. Her face, covered by mangled scarlet hair one would associate with either a beggar or a madman; armed with nothing more than a cheap dagger and her unwavering will to survive. She walks as her right eye uncontrollably twitches.

“It’s that girl! Who was she again?” an old gossipy woman says as the young woman passes.

“I think she is called Noname,” the other old gossipy woman says.

“She doesn’t have a name?” the old gossipy woman asks.

“No, no. She calls herself Noname. No-name,” the other old gossipy woman says.

“How weird. Perhaps she has something to hide?” the gossipy woman comments.

Noname stops for a moment.

“DEATH TO THE QUEEN!” Noname screams as her right eye twitches and her finger flips; she composes herself and continues on her way.

The two old women stare at her with raised eyebrows.

“She must hate the queen. I didn’t even know we have a queen,” the old gossipy woman says.

“We don’t have a queen,” the other gossipy woman adds.

“Then what was that all about?” the gossipy woman asks.

“They say the girl is possessed by evil spirits. They say she screams and says weird things for no reason,” the other gossipy woman explains.

“How strange,” the other old gossipy woman says as she pulls out an unpeeled onion and takes a bite from it.

“How strange, indeed,” the other old gossipy woman says as she also pulls out an unpeeled onion and takes a bite out of it.

Noname walks to a nearby fruit vendor as he eyes her with suspicion. Rightly so.

“Gimme one pertin,” Noname says.

“A coin,” the fruit vendor says as he looks at her and his stand carefully. Judging a book by its cover may not always lead you to a correct assumption but in the city of Union, you can bet your life on it.

“Here ya go,” Noname tosses him a coin and continues on her way.

Pertins are her favorite food; she likes their purple color. Getting some distance away from the fruit vendor, she looks around carefully; from her sleeve, she pulls two other pertins.

Now, Noname has three pertins. She only paid for one. The fruit isn’t expensive and there was no need to steal it; she may be poor, but she isn’t that poor. For Noname, stealing isn’t only a means to an end it is a way of life; it is like breathing. You cannot go far without breathing, can you?

Walking through the city she sees two nobles prancing around in the streets with no care in the world; her right-sided lip corner raises and tightens. Contempt is the only proper way to greet nobles.

“Stinky nobles,” Noname murmurs as she continues on her way.

Arriving at a small run-down house, she enters it. The house has barely half a roof and even fewer of its walls remain. A sorry excuse for a building, but it does well to fit with the rest of the structures. This is her “guild”. Not the most impressive or largest one; in all actuality, the only reason this guild is a guild is because she refers to it as such. Yes, not the best one out there, but it is hers.

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Inside, three men are playing cards. Similar in appearance to Noname; dirt poor and poorly dirty. The small one is appropriately called Little Pete, the tall one appropriately Big Pete; less appropriately, the bald one called Harry.

These are not their actual names, but Noname continued calling them that with fervor. In an attempt of lesser resistance, they decided to stick with those names. Ironically, the actual name of the bald one called Harry is Pete; it never stuck.

“Ya sure took ya time,” Harry says as Noname shrugs.

“De man dintcha come,” Little Pete says.

“Wat man?” Noname asks as she leans in the corner eating a pertin.

“Da man! Da one with da job,” Harry explains.

Big Pete remains silent. He always remains silent.

“Whatcha talkin’ bout Harry?” Noname asks.

“Dintcha pay attention? We met this bloke, see? We told ya about him. E said e gotsta a job. E said e pay good coin,” Harry says.

“Me like gold,” Little Pete says as he turns to Big Pete and smiles.

Big Pete smiles back with a grand grin, revealing a tongueless mouth; he never was a man of many words.

“Haw ya kno we can trust ‘im?” Noname asks.

“Trust? Since when we trust any?” Harry asks as he bursts out laughing through what little teeth he has left. Big Pete laughs, revealing his tongueless mouth again; Little Pete joins them with a full set of teeth. Brown and black, but a full set nevertheless.

“These are my carrots! These are my carrots!” Noname blurts out as her right eye twitches she flips them the finger. They don’t react; they know about the, how the city folk would say, evil spirits that possess her.

“Blah!” Noname adds as she continues eating her fruit. Her companions are correct; since when did they trust anyone? She concedes to the valid point.

There is time to waste until the mysterious man appears; luckily, they have an abundance of experience with that. One could call them professionals.

“Did ya hear da story about da princess Vetena?” Harry asks as the four of them sit around a makeshift table. Finely crafted out of a box and a plank placed on top of it.

“Da one dat slept with a horse?” Little Pete asks.

“Imagine wat her privates looked like,” Harry says.

“Like a well, I reckon,” Little Pete adds.

“Dat cos da horse, it was hung like itself,” Noname says. They burst out laughing.

“Wat about her?” Little Pete asks.

“Dem say dat on her wedding night, the prince said... I love you, I love you. She axed why you say dat twice. He says... I dintcha, I dintcha” Harry says.

The four of them look at each other and burst out laughing, and as they laugh a person walks inside. Dressed in a black cloak, his entire presence can be considered nothing more than untrustworthy and questionable amongst normal folk; however, amongst these folks, it does not stand out as anything out of the ordinary.

“Greetings,” the cloaked man says.

“Greetings? Wat is you? Some sort of pansy noble?” Little Pete asks as he laughs. The four laugh, the cloaked man does not.

“You are the ones? I’m looking for capable and daring thieves. Are you those or do I need to look elsewhere?” the cloaked man asks.

“If dere be coin we be whatcha want of us,” Harry says.

“Lunch of worms! Lunch of worms!” Noname blurts out as her right eye twitches and finger flips.

“What?” the cloaked man asks, staring at in confusion.

“Dontcha worry about, er. She has bad spirits,” Little Pete explains.

“Can she do the job?” the cloaked man asks.

“Ya need no worry. Noname here is one of da best,” Harry says.

Noname approaches the cloaked man.

“I like ya dagger,” Noname says as she holds up the cloaked man’s dagger; he realizes it is his dagger. She gives it back... with little resistance. Noname likes stuff but she likes stolen stuff a lot more.

The cloaked man smirks.

“All of you have a somewhat decent reputation. I hope you will not fail, for far more than you think depends on this,” the cloaked man says.

“Decent for being indecent. I reckon,” Little Pete says as the four of them laugh.

“Here is what we will do and where we will do it,” the cloaked man says as he pulls out a map.