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Chapter 3 - Hate Crime

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The Badlands are a region of Aelmion that is covered in craggy mountain ranges, impenetrable forests, and wide open plains that extend well below the United Silvus States.

It is a land known for its beauty as well as its danger, as the Badlands are frequently home to criminals, slavers, savage beasts, and a hostile faction of creatures known as the Free Orks. Silvus has attempted to subjugate the Badlands in order to bring them into order and harvest the rich resources beneath it. However, the steep mountain ranges prevent any army from passing through. The dense forests that towered around it not only hid the orks who fiercely guarded the badlands, but also provided cover from the massive airships that planned to attack them.

All Aelmion residents understand that venturing into the forests is similar to gambling with one's own life, as safe travel there is impossible.

To pass through, many travellers must pay large sums of gold, coins, magicores, or slaves to the free orks. Another option is to hire the criminals who live in the forests as guides in order to pass through. That is, if the criminals do not decide to rob those who hire them and abandon them to the monsters.

Those who have good relations with the free orks, on the other hand, see the Badlands as a land of untapped opportunity. Anyone who adheres to their violent and lawless ways is always welcome. So if there is one group that the free Orks hate the most, it's those who enforce authority, and Captain Ketil was one of them.

Ketil sat in the busy inn for an hour now. The short-haired young man was glad that at least there were non-alcoholic drinks available in the bar, and to his surprise, they were actually delicious. The honeybrew, of which he had three mugs, was surprisingly sweet.

The inn was located in a small town on the border of the Badlands and close to the small country of Ablan. Noon came and the packed inn was filled with workers and patrons. Most of the people dining were Ork and human families, a group of teenagers, and glorkan workers from the markets. Ketil brought out a pocket watch from his vest and sighed. Precisely half an hour has passed. As the minutes crept by, he looked down and wondered if he was overdressed or underdressed for the occasion.

It was relatively peaceful in the inn until a new group walked in.

It was a group of seven human men. It seems Ketil’s instincts were right, as the local patrons seemed to be wary of them as well. One of them stood out: a dark-skinned man with small round tinted glasses. He wore a long coat draped over his shoulders and was smartly dressed with his white long shirt and suspenders covered with rifle rounds, which he used as a bandolier. The man surveyed the crowd and smiled. It revealed his teeth were eerily made of metal.

Ever since they sat down, the group has been not just disruptive but downright rude. They were loud, told vulgar jokes, and even bullied the young bestian workers who struggled to cope with their verbal abuse. Ketil kept his guard as most of the workers were young women, and by the group’s actions so far, an incident was bound to happen.

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Ketil watched as one of the workers came out of the kitchen and struggled to carry a large tray of food. He took a swig from his drink and looked at his pocket watch when he heard a loud crash. The young cat bestian dropped a full tray of food on the floor. The shocked girl stared at the mess that fell near the foul-mouthed group.

“Are you brain dead or what?!” The dark-skinned man stood up. “Look at this garbage you got on my clothes!”

The bestian worker quivered and looked for a while but did not find anything on the man’s clothes.

“Th.. th.. there is nothing on you, sir.” She stammered. “It... it... it fell on the floor.”

“Are you blind? Look!” The worker looked again and saw a small, barely visible stain of stew on the bottom of the man’s pants and a few drops on his expensive shoes.

“Please accept my apologies, sir. Let me… clean that for you.” The worker pulled a rag from her pocket and tried to wipe the stain. But the moment she touched the man’s shoes, he smashed a bottle on the young worker's head.

“That's enough!”

Before Ketil could intervene, a dark-skinned human teenager stood up and, along with his friends, helped the young woman. The other bestians joined in to help their co-worker as well, but the man with the metal teeth stood up.

“She owes me a new suit.”

But the teenagers tried to shield the bestian, whose head bled heavily. The dark-skinned teen ushered the workers to get the young woman back into the kitchen. The group of thugs simply laughed at them.

“Look at this kid. Thinking he is a hero.” The man with metal teeth said with a grin. The man put his hands on his gun. Ketil reached for his gun, as the mood of the whole room quickly shifted. The laughter died; the teenagers and the workers froze.

“Boy. Learn to mind your own buisne-”

A gust of cold air blew through the room, causing him to come to a halt. Despite the fact that there were no open windows, the strong gust was felt by everyone in the room. It came from someone who walked down the massive stairs and looked directly at the man in the glasses and his group.

The person had a small frame and was dressed in a cloak that covered their face and upper body. But it was the armour and weapons they wore that drew their attention. It was the uniform of Far Eastern knights: sleek yet ornate iron chest and skirt armour, shinguards, metal shoulder guards, and sleeves.

The weapon they carried was a curved, glowing single-edged blade. Ketil had only read about the fabled swords of Riyax, and they were powerful enough to cut a steamtank’s armour with a single stroke. The knight sheathed their weapon and walked through the room until they stood between the group of teenagers and the man with metal teeth.

“Leave now.” It was a woman. She said it so calmly, but it was a clear threat. Ketil could feel something about the knight, something terrible that gave even him goose bumps.

Before the man’s group could join in, he raised his hand to stop them. He looked at the group of teenagers, then back at the knight.

“Lunch is over boys.” He whistled, and his whole group stood up and left. The knight moved past the group of youths who helped the worker and walked slowly until she reached Ketil’s table.

“The master will see you now.” The cloaked female knight said and started to walk back up.

“They need help.”

But the knight ignored him.

Ketil looked back; other patrons joined in and helped the young bestian worker. Ketil finished the last of his drink and followed. Guilt ravaged him as he should have done more to stop that hate crime. But as he followed the knight upstairs, he hoped that this mission would clear his conscience.