"Do anything in your power to stall Gildin Trading. Put a watch on their shop, Gaxston."
Watch Commander Thurnas reminded Watch Captain Gaxston. The city-state of Tucken is large enough that they can afford to have a Watch Commander and their Watch Captains: Gaxston, in charge of the western portion of the city, and his contemporary enforces the eastern half. The Watch Commander cast a thin shadow from the open shutters behind him. He is a thin greying Human, leaning more on the administrative aspect of the job in appearance and work ethic. Uninspiring, but with the authority of his position, he kept order within the ranks regardless.
"Jodas Gang…stupid name…" The Watch Commander whispered to himself, irritably flicking a speck of dust on his desk. "Remember that Jodas Gang is a major faction in our great city of Tucken. If it were up to me alone, I would arrest them, but they keep the worst sorts in our slums in check, and they contribute to our city monetarily. They're not the worst major gang out there, but they are a necessary evil."
"How much did that Satyr pay the Watch?" Gaxston asked. He half-expected for the Watch Commander to reprimand or even fire him on the spot. He mentally braced himself, but it never came.
"Three thousand." Thurnas locked his eyes on Gaxston.
"Silver?"
"Gold. Gold coins."
Gaxton's jaw dropped. An average person's wage is around one gold coin a week; two if the person has an advance Role or Feat. You can buy a decent house with a hundred gold. He overheard once from a Guildmaster that the cost of erecting a guild headquarters is around eight hundred to a thousand gold. Gaxston cannot comprehend how much was spent on the bribe.
"It is not just us. The Merchant's Guild was paid to distribute the Satyr’s gold. Even our [Mayor] was in it, you know, from the visit in the guild with which we provided security? Jodas' boys were also there, tryna make sure that no [Thief] nor [Thug] tries to take a cut from that pile, and no rumor to spread."
Gaxston's eyes widened. They are part of a conspiracy, bigger than him, larger than the Watch.
"What person has that kind of money?"
"A representative of a Corporation. Thousand Roads Trading."
Gaxston asked, but he already knew the answer. The Satyr Corporation dominated the land trade routes around the Stokeburn Desert at the continent’s heart and beyond. Owners of its various waystations and Driver’s Guilds, commanding entire [Mercenary] armies and Satyr Tribes.
"The real question is, who in Tuckethius' name is Numisley Gildin to be chased by Thousand Roads? Have you gotten the files?"
"Yes, sir."
Gaxston placed the bundle of papers on the desk, and the Watch Commander examined it.
The file contains what they know about Numisley through rough sources of information. They verified that he was from the small town of Renimburg, now occupied by Belias' Trading, the rival of Maldent Trading. They legitimized their ownership over the new Gildin Trading, with their only remaining employee, Palden Oraksth as a witness with the [Notary] in charge. Before that, they had hired the Severed Swords in Lynt while on contract and Atasaney's Prowlers in the camp of Tucken's army.
"Isn't Atasaney's Prowlers elite [Bounty Hunters] on horses?"
Watch Commander Thulookooked up at Gaxston after he read the report with him.
"Not only [Bounty Hunters]. They're also light cavalry. [Skrimishers] with devastating javelins. They had served in the war between Paryhst and Onoroix. They are expensive to hire, but it doesn't make sense considering that they're a tiny company…"
The Watch Commander dismissed Gaxston after that. The sun sets as Gaxston ended his shift. The thirteenth bell of the day rang, signaling sundown. He walked past the bell tower that rang the bell and he headed for the temple beside it. The temple beside the bell tower was full; at this time, the citizens of Tucken offered burnt pieces of tobacco to the patron god of their city, Tuckethius the Farmer, who founded a city among its swampy land. He offered a shaving of a cigar, set it alight on the candle's flame, and dropped it on the brass candle holder, letting it mix with the melted wax. He hoped that the war wouldn't make the city starve and that the people in the temple have the same hope for a good harvest after winter.
Even after giving his offering to their city's god, he was still conflicted about the situation in the city. The entire city was bribed so that this "Numisley" will stay kidnapped by a gang. Lying to his brother's face hurts more than a glass shard in his scales. The skies were now dark, and the frigid breeze made Gaxston shiver. He thought of his Lizardfolk cousins wrapped around in many blankets in front of their fireplaces at this time. He needed to get warm too, so he headed to the nearest inn.
The Sitting Wagon caters to many traveling [Merchants] and [Wagon Drivers], but anyone can go in. Gaxston felt comfortably warm inside the brightly lit inn, but he knew it was one of the [Innkeeper]'s Feats because no single fireplace can make this inn comfortably warm.
"Welcome, Watch Captain." The Satyr [Innkeeper] of the Sitting Wagon called Gaxston, sitting in front of the counter. He knew him as a regular of this inn because this inn was near his apartment and it was one of the more decent inns in the city.
"Don't call me Watch Captain, for now, Innkeeper Vaerhamin. I'm off duty."
"Right, so Swamp Malt, or do you want Shine's Moonshine?"
"Got something new?"
"Actually, yes. My [Merchant] friend gave me a recipe. Re'claiin Mead. It's a Satyr's brew, so it's a given that it might be delicious. It has a magical working within too, but I fear magic would expire. Not that I know about Shamanic Magic though, I'm not from the tribes."
"Must be expensive. What's the working?"
"Tsicadiv told me that Re'claiin means 'clarity of righteousness' or reclaiming one's mind' in Satyric. I'm not sure about selling this since its effect is the literal opposite of getting drunk…it helps you make the right decision."
"Spells can do that?"
"Not the magic that we use every day, I'm afraid. I'm still unsure if I can sell this or not, and it is pretty expensive, so would you care to taste test it for me?"
"Sure. I'll have that with a bowl of bekabeans and squash mash."
While Gaxston waited for his order, a hooded figure sat beside him.
"Gax, you look pathetic."
The [General] of Tucken turned to Gaxston, showing her obscured face within the hood. General Karaiste was an acquaintance of his when she was a new ex-[Mercenary] [General]. They coincidentally stay in the same inn whenever they need a drink. As leaders in the same city, they get along as drinking buddies.
"Drinking anon again?" Gaxston asked.
"I don't want to make a fuss right now. I got reprimanded for letting my camp gets attacked and retreating, giving the Joltstownsmen more ground and potentially souring our alliance with the Gahkees. But the [Mayor] knows how competent I am, and the power of my Feats and Roles." Karaiste answered with a sigh.
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"Good to know. I'm having troubles myself." Gaxston sighed.
"Criminals?"
"Well, bribing an entire city-state's leadership is criminal."
"Who?"
"Someone from Thousand Roads. Paying the entire Watch and the authorities to prevent investigation of the kidnapping of a guy named Numisley."
"Numisley?"
"You met him?"
"Erm…yeah." Karaiste bit her lips lightly.
"What do you think of him? I'm figuring out who is he to be pursued by a Corporation."
"Er…c- I mean, he has an aura. An actual, untrained Aura. No Arcs yet. According to my Feat. He must be something special to have that. That's what I think."
Gaxston only has the liberty to reveal classified information to her because she's a [General], an arguably higher rank than her, and the city leaders already knew that they have a representative of Thousand Roads paying them to keep the affair silent.
"Should I…do the right thing? Being paid not to do my job as Watch Captain–"
"Do what your gut tells ya'. I retreated from my position when we got attacked because I feel like I would lose more of my boys and girls. I only got a slap on the wrist for that. If you get fired or killed, that's that, but you'll win in the end. Because you're right."
The [Innkeeper] interrupted, placing a wooden bowl of mashed squash, with fat squishy white beans on it, shaped like a bird's beak. Despite how it looked, it was filling. The wooden mug of mead seems clear, but he can still see the honey-colored liquid. The bubbles from the bottom have a shining tinge on them. It doesn't feel magical, unlike when he held a wand or when someone casts a spell beside him. More like the mug feels significant somehow.
"Can you use a Feat and make it quick? I'll order Swamp Malt and biscuits. I'm going to the brothel to relieve some stress." Karaiste hollered.
"That would be an extra thirty silver if I need to use my Feat." The [Innkeeper] informed, and Karaiste slapped a pouch of silver coins on the counter. The [Innkeeper] blurred, and for a moment, he was the fastest person in the inn, speeding towards the kitchen and instantly placing three thick biscuits wrapped in string and a mug.
"Gotta go. Luck be with ya'."
She voraciously tossed all of the biscuits in her mouth and washed them down with beer as she briskly walked out of the inn. Gaxston stared at the mug significantly and he took a sip. The sweet mead feels like any other mead, but instead of turning tipsy, his mind cleared, emboldened by courage.
Cultrost had walked in the Sitting Wagon, along with Palden, and Atasaney. Graten guarded the wagons and the shop from theft with his men and women. They sat at the table at the western edge of the hall and the [Waiter] took their orders.
"Where are the books?" Atasaney demanded. "Those guys who kidnapped our employer are surely after them."
"I'm not at liberty to tell you their location." Cultrost asserted.
"Then I and my men and women will leave your company. We will steal the book and I will tear your wagons to splinters if I have to–agh!"
A crest burned itself on Atasaney's arm, made out of his blood from the tiny pricks on his skin. It took the form of a crest in the shape of a sail, and within is a Human throwing a spear towards the symbol of a creature with a lion's upper half and a fish's lower half. There are words written in a flowing script in another language that they cannot read within the crest.
"What in the paymaster's sodding ass is that?" Atasaney swore as the sharp pain and the blood crest disappeared, the blood now seeping into the Satyr's body.
"So that's what it does…" Cultrost had suspected that Numisley's unique Feat does something whenever someone would break the contract. Atasaney hasn't expected his employer's Contract Feat to be this potent. Palden's eyes widened and he stared at his finger.
"You will die if you go against Numisley's contract. I'm sure that he didn't make any loopholes in the contract." Cultrost warned. "We will find my brother. Let's wait for the Watch's investigation."
"Do you think that their Watch is that altruistic? What if those who kidnapped him had bribed the Watch? It can happen." Atasaney warned."That's only if the people were that important,"
"He is that important!" Cultrost barked, surprising Palden. Cultrost scratched his horns as he apologized. Fortunately, the noise within the room drowned it out. However, the few [Merchants] who possess Earrings of Hearing or eavesdropping-Feats picked up bits of their conversation. Scurrilous gossipers or those who had nothing to do here might have heard it, but Gaxston had heard everything the moment they sat at that table.
He knew what he needed to do; what he wanted to do. His mind is more clear than ever, and it is not just the effects of the mead.
Their arguments and brainstorming between Atasaney and Cultrost haven't yielded any concrete results aside from waiting for the Watch, investigating it themselves, or leaving Numisley to die. These are only suggestions, and none of them were helpful, at least immediately. They elected to deal with that for another day, retreating to their rooms.
Waiting for the Watch's investigation on the matter was the safest option, but as Atasaney had said, there is a chance that the Watch had been bribed to keep them from doing their jobs. He heard that sometimes, mafias can completely take over a city that their Watch will not fight them for fear of being destroyed. Investigating it themselves will lead to trouble from both the local authorities and the gangs in the city; he knew that every city has its criminals in some way or another.
He can't leave Numisley to die either not only because of brotherly love, but because Cultrost admittedly didn't have Numisley's charisma, his authoritative presence keeping their Mercenaries] in line, the cunning to get the best deals from [Merchants], and skill with negotiating with secrets. Cultrost can only lift Numisley when he needs to go somewhere or is in trouble; even with a walking stick. He can roughly lead Gildin Trading, but he is less confident about keeping them together. Atasaney's men and women are a problem because they had killed many of the Severed Swords before, but so far no brawls have been started yet.
Cultrost was restless from thinking, wandering out of the inn, having the urge to breathe in outside air, even with the horrid smell of wooden buckets of feces and urine being lifted by dedicated [Nightmen] to the cesspits.
"Cultrost."
Gaxston appeared in front of the doorway; the doors swung behind him. Cultrost recognized the Watch Captain because of the peculiar reptilian scales on his cheek.
"I need to tell you something. The one you call Atasaney is right. Tucken's Watch was bribed to not investigate the kidnapping."
"What? So, why are you here?"
"I'm here to do the right thing."
-
"So you're saying that you did not find anything, Blaiff?
"No, sir."
The [Charlatan] who served as the distraction for the thievery at the shop scratched at his fur at the nape nervously; he was a second-generation Demihuman from a Beastkin-Human family at the Southern Bottoms. He didn't mention that one of the shop's guards almost recognized him as a fake because of his accent.
"Benezoic said the same thing too. You're tougher than expected, Numisley Gildin."
Numisley suffered a cut on his leg that was left to bleed minutes ago when Jodas slashed it. When he asked Numisley the books’ location, the truth stone glowed green. He knew from experience as a criminal that truth spells are all too easy to fool. He can think of several tricks used to fool him. Although he was hired to refuse Numisley's offer, he decided to kidnap the man with the book of secrets and claim the knowledge for himself when he heard the rumors from the Tucken's [Soldiers].
"We'll ask another person in your company. If you don't cooperate." Jodas warned. He knew that one of the tricks to avoid truth Spells and Feats is to let someone you trust hide the treasure without your knowledge.
"What if I told someone to burn them and I memorized them beforehand, Raudaeiz Jaucles, son of Aldewin Jaucles of the respectable Jaucles Glassworks?"
The stone glowed orange, shifting to green when Numisley mentioned Joda's real name and identity. Uncertainty.
"You are bluffing."
"Of course." Numisley smiled, throwing his kidnappers off.
"How do you know my real name?" Raudaeiz's fingers twitched, and a drop of sweat trickled from his forehead.
"It's on the 'book of secrets', Raudaeiz. That's a Satyric first name you got there, but you're a Human. Unless your real mother is a..?" Numisley taunted. The stone glowed green again as Raudaeiz's heart felt heavy in his chest.
"Blaiff! Don’t let him escape! I'll deal with him later." The leader of the Jodas Gang walked out and slammed the steel door, leaving Blaiff dumbfounded for this is the first time he saw their leader lose his cool.
Raudaeiz leaned on the brick wall of the basement, wiping the sweat off his brow. He pulled and threw his blue chaperon on the ground, unraveling the stumps of a pair of horns cut off long ago, dried and molted skin that covered it. There is a reason he wrapped his head with a chaperon every day.
Numisley eyed the back of his hand, and a crest of blood appeared. The struggling young man tied to a chair in a dark cellar balled his fists, making the mark bleed more. Somewhere in Tucken, the people bound to his [Bloodbound Contract] felt their blood calling them to the east.