Just as I was shooed away by the Merchant, a tall woman in a dark hood and shirt ran by me. Turning, I watched as she moved through the crowd with incredible grace. Not one person slowed her as she moved like a serpent through the high grasses. Somewhere in the depths of my brain, the desire to follow pinged.

And I set off after her. "Move to the side. Make room!" a booming voice commanded. I felt powerless to do anything else and moved to the side with most of the throng.

"This is the Watch. Move. By the Kracken left nut! Move." the voice continued with its command. More people moved this time. A few still were not compelled, and more than a few were the merchants.

Two men ran past me, one an older man with white hair bound in a ponytail, tall and slim with blue skin glistening like the sea itself, a patch-covered eye. Or possibly an eye hole. His partner was much older and human, yet both were moving fast. The people who did not follow the command to move did not hinder them. And the one or two dock siders who clearly wanted to step into their path were pushed aside with the round shield each man held in their left hand. The desire to follow the original runner returned to me at this moment. And I sprinted after the three of them, following as close as I could to the Watchmen before the crowd closed like a wave onto the beach.

Running for maybe two more minutes, the runner and the Watchmen ahead of me ducked into a side ally by a warehouse, then down the path into the shadows.

I could hear ahead of me that the Watchmen had clearly got to the first runner with shouts for compliance and insults in return, in both female and male voices. A trap, perhaps? For whom, the women or the Watch?

Turning the corner at pace, I slipped, my moccasins losing grip on the stone, my feet flicked out straight under me like I was standing at attention on my side.

The two Watchmen were fighting off three men, all looking under twenty and the women. The gang was boxed in between some wall backing the warehouse and a high-security wall built in stone. The woman held the box in her hand; I would have guessed a long map or scroll box, I would have thought.

The one-eyed man had what I would call a longish stick in one hand, his shield facing the two of the men while his older partner was shoving his knee into the twig and berries of the third once, then twice. It was not needed a third time, but a third time there was. The other two were working in tandem. One kept the one-eyed man's attention, striking out with a short, broad knife. With each slash, the Watchmen caught it on his shield with a ting and a sparked.

The second thug, the man, was quickly working in behind the one-eyed Watchmen working open side in the hope that was the weak one without sight. At this point, I stood and ran forward, lowering my shoulder, and crashed into the back of the tuff, circling the blue-skinned Watchman and knocking him to the ground. The man now under me had turned in the fall and was punching me again and again; I lifted my left arm to block the blows, yet they kept coming.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, rolling me aside. Metallic ting rang out as the older grey-haired Watchmen slammed his shield edge into the thug, the one I had been grappling with moments before, and a burst of electricity flashed from the shield. The thug convulsed for a few seconds and then went limp.

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Sitting up, I looked over to see the first one-eyed Watchman was trading blows with the women, and his original thug was on the ground, down and out. She kicked and punched, then danced away and around the one-eyed Watchmen.

Noticing a few things: the woman was beautiful, not breathing heavily, and her strikes at the Watchmen were unrelenting, probing for the angle and the hole in the defence. In her hand was the tube that was being brought into the fray. But she was not an equal to one-eye Watchmen and could not push past his defences. His shield and stick were too quick moving to intercept and absorbed too many of her blows before he returned a strike that was just a bit harder and quicker. I watched with my jaw dropped as these two pelted each other, but the woman was racking up too many hits against her; at that observation, she dropped to her knee and swung the tube at the one-eyes knee. He countered the move, and his ironclad stick fell in an arc, meeting the tube snapping in half, a piece catered to the cobblestone. The one-eyed Watchmen's right fist lifted to his own ear, fist closed around the stick, ready for the knockout blow.

The grey-haired Watchmen moved forward and grabbed One-eye's wrist before the final blow. Taking that opportunity, the woman nimbly rolled to her side. Voluted up and quickly skipped over the wall behind them.

"What are you doing, Ned? I had her." The One-eyed man challenged, moving to face the other.

"Saving us the time and effort of hauling a fourth thug before one of the Prince Magistrates," Ned responded.

"I know who she is, and this sort of crap is never going to happen again. If she is caught. I will put the noose around her neck myself." One Eye responded. Ned dropped his gaze to the ground, quickly searching for some sort of response, I assumed.

"The truth is it we all got secrets, and these streets tell me enough stories that she would not swing alone," Ned responded. The veiled threat was not lost on the face of the one-eyed Watchmen as the arm with the shield attached dropped to the handle of a dagger on his left hip.

"Stories are just that, stories, my friend. Let's get this lot back to the Watch House." One Eye offered and turned his back to Ned before grabbing the tube half and a thug by the arm and dragging him away.

Ned, the older man, looked down at me.

"Well, young one, you didn't wait to jump into a bit of a ruckus," Ned said as he fished around in his pocket, pulling out a coin that he tossed at me. Reaching up, I grabbed it with one hand. Examining it, I turned it over a few times. It has a raised coat of arms much like that one on the shields of the Watchmen, and on one side of the coin is an unknown symbol.

"What is this payment?" I called back as he wandered off, dragging two men by their arms.

"Of a kind. Present it to the Watch house and tell them that Fe'ned Rigol gave it to you." Ned responded.

"Is that the other guy Ned?" I continued, "No, that's me." He responded and dragged the two men around the corner.

Quest Update: Learn about the city. You have discovered that the city is dangerous for villains and Watchmen.

New Quest: Go to the watch house and present the token. Reward unknown, possibly payment?.

New Quest: Find out about the meaning of the symbol on the back of the token provided to you by Fe'ned Rigol?

Quest Error!: Quests are only available to one with a Profession.

Placing the token in my bag, I dusted myself off. Then panic filled the inside of my chest, that feeling of being empty. I realised I was no longer holding the king's gold coin. Dropping to my knees, I searched around for the coin. There was no place for it to fall into; the flagstones of the ally were well warned but not broken, and we were not over the jetty or the docks, so it could not have fallen into the sea. I started where I tackled the thug franticly; I took my time. There was no ticking clock here. I would find it.

I was crawling down the ally to where I slipped, and a bird, a Pidgin, was standing where I had fallen. It was a large Pidgin, but definitely a Pidgin. Crooking its head to one side, it blinked at me several times. The bird had my coin, its beak.

Scrambling to my feet, I launched myself at it, but I was too slow that little fucker skipped a couple of times and took flight.

I was not going to put up with this and started to chase a flying rat.