Rhys spent the two days after meeting Shade doing more surveillance on the castle. Picking out the treasury room from the map he was given, then working around possible entrance and exit routes. It was hard to plan around unknown security measures but Rhys factored in the occasional guard, just in case.

To keep in touch with his inner thief he spent the nights engaged in bouts of minor larceny, the less reputed nobles were easy prey. His targets, portable valuables, and books. It was how Rhys had taught himself to read and write, as well as educate himself of the basics concerning a myriad of topics. Magic, history, politics, science and occasionally geography, though he despised the subject. The information gained per brain cell wasted was not worth it.

With little to do during the day aside from the surveillance Rhys took to the books to keep himself occupied. A prominent thief but not the greatest with people Rhys enjoyed the isolation.  

By midday Rhys was thoroughly tired. It was a few hours till his meeting with Shade so he took himself out for a walk. The streets were as active as they could be, the people in it were of little interest to Rhys however. Instead he wandered into the buildings.

“In a bright blue world, in a far-away land, there lie great beaut- oh shit, excuse me.” Rhys quickly shut the door he had opened. Walking into passionate couples was as awkward as it sounded. Somewhat traumatized and more so cautious of his actions Rhys continued roaming around. Looking for nothing in particular his eyes gazed over the grey walls. The occasional piece of graffiti provided life to the city, its vibrant splashes of primary colors resounding across the monochrome structures.

Rhys did not travel randomly, he intentionally moved towards parts of the city he had little knowledge of. Paying attention not just to structural layouts but also of the people that lived there he put together mental notes of potential hide outs, escape routes and individuals and their crafts. On one such streets, he came across a mechanic, a lone man on a lone street. The man’s eyes were focused on his craft, paying no heed as Rhys walked up to him.

His hands moved swiftly across a device of sorts, the materials he used, a mystery to Rhys. The device was small, almost a toy, it was shaped like a diamond but with a metal rod in the middle. The man efficiently replaced the bolts, and cleaned the gears with some oil. Rhys gaze fixed, leaned forward to get a better look. There was another piece of metal of running through the object, it looked like it could be turned, like a gear.

“What is it?” Rhys asked curiously.

The man looked up at that, his hands momentarily pausing before getting back into work. His attention however seemed to be on Rhys.

Well damn, that’s some serious skill there working as fast as he is.

“It’s a jackscrew,” his response was curt telling Rhys nothing about how the device operated.

Before Rhys could come up with a witty retort, they received company, three individuals walked into the otherwise empty street. They were slightly taller than Rhys, clad in jet black jackets with ugly faces to boot.

“You gotta leave this place geezer, this here’s part of our territory now.” The thug in the middle motioned to his friends and they started moving forward together.

Seriously, wannabe thugs are all I need. Next think y’now I’ll kick their asses and the mechanic dude’ll gimme something as a reward.

Honor amongst thieves meant something, but these three were not thieves. While the underworld strictly operated against the nobility of Acedia there were a few who preyed on the weak. Which was expected, but infuriating for those who had a shred of decency.

Shade’ll be proud of this.

“Ho there, wonderbros.” Rhys called out, walking ahead to intercept them.

“Who the fu-“

Starting on the one from the left, Rhys kneed him in the crotch before elbowing the thug in the middle. The two men stumbled back in pain, cursing. The third man reacted in turn, drawing a metal stick from heaven knew where, that definitely used to be up his ass.

Rhys foresaw the swing and ducked low, before dashing forwards out of the effective range of the weapon. Without any room to maneuver, the man was defenseless against Rhys’ onslaught. Rhys swung at the man’s temple attempting to take him out.

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From behind one of the thugs bashed his legs with a similar stick, Rhys’ leg crumpled and he fell to the ground before he could finish his punch. The defenseless man, eyes wide apart quickly regained his composure and kicked Rhys while he was down.

“For fucks sake man, that’ll teach you to mess with us. Jake teach him a-” The thug boss crumpled as he was hit by a steel ball, the crunch of bone clear to all those involved.

“HOLY SHIT GRE-“ Down went Jake. The last thug was still kneeling on the floor clutching his crotch in pain. Sighting his companions on the floor, out cold, definitely concussed, and bleeding he picked himself up and ran the hell away.

Rhys laid there groaning, until the mechanic came over to help him up.

“Rushing three guys wasn’t a smart move,” he mumbled.

Rhys did not respond, nursing his damaged leg, his pride hurt more than his body.

“Now they’ll come back with more. Made the situation worse huh?” His words seemed to blame Rhys but his voice was not accusatory. The mechanic sounded resigned, he simply went back to working on his device.

After a few minutes Rhys managed to gather himself and get back up. He limped over to the mechanic, those few minutes had given him time to think.

“You like the solitude, don’t you? Peace to work on your,” Rhys motioned to all the strange devices, “gear.”

He nodded, not bothering to look up.

“I know a similar place, not too cut off from people so you can get whatever you need from them. But secluded enough that you won’t have to look hard to be alone. Doubt you’d deal with thugs like this there, it’s on the other side of the Lower City.” Rhys finished his speech and smiled at the man, proud that years of exploring was paying off.

The mechanic looked taken aback at that. His eyes showed his eagerness, he got up and started gathering his possessions. It all surmounted to two wooden boxes.

“You know your geography, don’t you? Lead the way.” Was all he said.

Rhys cringed at the mention of geography. It took over an hour of limping to cross the city. The mechanic was strong, enduring the weight of his possessions. It slowed him just enough to keep pace with Rhys. Eventually they made it to a similar street, albeit a little less colorful, on the other side of the Lower City. The man settled quickly finding a spot near the wide entrance of an abandoned building, to make him home.

Satisfied, he looked up to Rhys with a sparkle in his eye.

“Thanks. This…. This really helps.”

Rhys smiled, realizing how much time had passed he waved at the man before turning around to make his way back to Shade’s tavern.

“Take this,” the man tossed him the device he was working on earlier.

Stumbling to catch it, Rhys was surprised at how heavy the object was. He continued to toy with it amused that the mechanic had said nothing of its uses.

“Thank you,” he turned to walk away but paused. “Never got your name, mine’s Rhys.”

“Cid.”

Rhys looked at Cid before turning around and getting on with his merry roaming. The sun was fading out, the heat so much more bearable. Rhys pocketed his new toy before he accidently dropped it. With a limp in his step he decided the time was about right.

As always, the tavern boasted twenty-four seven brawl fights as entertainment. This time it was a one-eyed thug against an old man. Rhys thought it was one sided until he realized how swift the old man was, his moves clearly not reflecting his age.

Thud. The thug hit the ground with a groan. He was about to get up before the old man walked over and soccer kicked his head. Rhys shuddered as one-eye was brutally knocked out. The smack of flesh against wood reverberating across the room. With a soft moan, the man tried to stand up but old man kung fu raised his legs high, about to bring it down in a devastating stomp.

“Stop,” a voice cut through the crowd. The cheers, jeers and other shouts ceased as Shade stepped into the fray. Even the old man brought his leg down without a fuss.

Shade was not that big, at nearly two meters tall with a hundred kilos on him, mostly muscle, he looked intimidating, sure. Shade stepped towards the thug, still moaning, and lifted him onto his shoulder, one handed without a sound.

Whoops gotta reconsider his power levels.

Following Shade as he dropped off the man at a corner stool at a… corner, wait shit is he drooling? That’s some serious concussion.

“Hey, Shade looks like business is booming.”

Shade turned his head at that, realizing Rhys was here he smiled before moving behind the counter.

“Cider?” He asked.

“Always.”

As conversation returned to normal within the tavern, Shade took a break from the crowd, his two apprentices managing the stove and counter, to catch up with Rhys. Bringing a large glass of apple cider with him the two sat down across each other at secluded table.

“The limp?” he asked.

“Daily dose of ass-kicking.”

“You mean, ass-kicked.”

Damn he’s good.

“I’m sorry,” Shade said changing the conversation, all too suddenly.

 “What’s wrong,” Rhys replied quickly.

“The man who was supposed to help you, he…” Shade turned around and motioned to one eye on the corner stool, spit sliding down his face. “Doesn’t seem to be doing so well.”

Shit, Mr. Pirate was my contact?

Devastated Rhys narrowed his eyes looking for any sign that the man had the faculty for conversation. He seemed to be out for good. Rhys discerned from his face that it would be a while before he could talk to the man, too late for it to do him any good.

Unable to do anything about the situation, Rhys drank the cider and made his farewells. The cider doing little to soften his bad mood.

I guess for every good thing that happens to me. He fidgeted around with the device, something equally bad just had to have happened. Screw this equivalent exchange bullshit.

With almost no time till Novus, Rhys was running out of options. He needed a genuine plan if he was going to get out of this alive, with nobody left to help him Rhys was left with one option.

Gotta help myself, he thought.

Resolved, Rhys decided to take his merry roaming elsewhere. Tomorrow, the castle deserved a visit. It was after all, the stage that had been set. And every good actor knew how important a rehearsal was.