Book 3: Chapter 31 - Scripted Event (RAW)

The flowers of war are at their most beautiful when they blossom in spectacular disarray.

- Unknown.

I stood tall, drawing myself up to my full height and straightening my shoulders. As I did so, I couldn't help but remember, ‘He who shouts first, shouts loudest’. It was an old adage, half-remembered and probably incorrect, from a different time and a different place. With a deep breath, I mustered as much confidence as I could and said, "Please, allow me to explain…"

The City Guard officer narrowed his eyes and stepped closer towards me. With a mere flick of his hand, he set his men into motion. On his silent command, he had ten guards encircle the Beastkin who held Zariyah hostage, their polearms poised to strike. Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered, obstructing the flow of traffic.

"Move along! Move along," the officer commanded with a hand on a jeweled sword at his hip, the order cutting through the buzz of the crowd. His men, understanding his orders, started to shepherd the city's busy inhabitants around our scene, gently but firmly pushing away the onlookers who had stopped to watch.

Turning his attention back to me, the officer's expression was one of sharp inquiry. "And who, by the grace of the Goddess, might you be?" he demanded, prodding my chest in a manner that was both rude and dismissive as he scrutinized me.

“A simple adventurer, still new to this great city. I was drawn here by the promise of wealth and renown. I was making my way to the Grand Bazaar with my companion…” I paused nodding to Zariyah who now had her eyes closed, expecting the worst. “But please enough of that, can’t you see that she needs your help!”

With thinly veiled annoyance, he sharply turned away from me. “You there, Beastkin!” he shouted. His face was one of thinly veiled disgust as he addressed the Beastkin. “Release the girl, or believe you me, the consequences for you will be most dire,” he barked with all the authority of his office.

The wolf Beastkin looked around him, and seeing no new avenue of escape released Zariyah with a defeated look. Some of the City Guards raised their polearms to allow a path through them, but the others kept their points at Beastkin’s neck. The girl hurriedly pushed past them to stand by my side.

“As I was saying…” I started, only to be silenced by the officer who held up a gauntleted hand.

“I smell a bunch of funny business going on here. Even Beastkin would not be so stupid as to start violence within the walls without provocation… something is off here,” the white-plumed officer stated, looking at both parties.

“The man-thing threw scorn at us! You all here saw! Yes!? Yes!?” explained a half-recovered Hashmal, half-spluttering. A murmur ran through the members of the crowd who had chosen to stubbornly remain, or had doubled back to see the event’s conclusion.

“That would indeed be a provocation for your kind. Still…” drawled the officer as if he was enjoying the proceedings. Enjoying the petty power he held over us.

“I saw that savage animal start it, I did! Swiped at the man with those long sharp claws of his for no reason he did. ‘Haps they got the crazy disease, their brains go to jelly before go even more beasty like…” came an oddly familiar voice from the crowd that I could not quite place.

Hashmal gave out another roar but was silenced by one of the City Guards who whacked him across the face with a heavy truncheon, smashing out a long white canine.

“I will have to add disturbing the peace of the city to your crimes, animal,” the officer nodded to the subordinate who had disciplined the lion Beastkin. One of his men who had been shepherding the crowd saluted the officer before whispering something in his ear.

Damnation, I needed trouble with the City Guard as much as I needed a hole in the head. I had best play things safe, for even without an Identify spell, I could tell that these men were a cut above the usual rabble.

“As I said before, I was just walking down to the Bazaar when these animals accosted me. They threatened us, you know how violent these things can get,” I offered in explanation.

“There is more, no?”

“Yes,” I stated with a nod. I needed to lay this on thick. Silently I thanked the voice in the crowd who had spoken out in my defence before continuing, “They suddenly grabbed my companion and threatened to do horrible things to her… I could not leave things as they were. ”

I certainly was not lying, but I was making the the truth run laps.

“I think I’ve seen and heard enough. The simplest of explanations are almost always correct. The Beastkin wanted a little fun with your lady friend, and of course, being the chivalrous and generous gentlemen you are, you stepped in and defended her honor,” the officer declared, causing the wolf Beastkin to give out another whine in protest. “But what I can’t understand is how you pummelled three of them, by the looks of things at least, all by yourself?”

I looked him evenly in the eye, “I had a just cause on my side.”

“By the looks of things using nothing more than your fists. Perhaps the next Festival will be interesting… That nothing more than a decoration?” he observed, noticing the dagger at my side. “Yes, perhaps. Still, you have both parties have disturbed the peace of the city…but perhaps that can be smoothed over with a…”

I smirked inside, he had barely given the Beastkin a chance to defend themselves and had all but asked for a bribe. The upholders of law and order were as corrupt in this world as they were in mine.

“Perhaps, I can make some amends for taking up the precious time of the City Guard on such a trivial matter,” I suggested in a soft voice without batting an eyelid.

“Yes, perhaps you can,” the officer replied with a superior smirk.

Slowly, I drew a single silver coin from my purse which only caused the man to raise an eyebrow. He coughed, indicating that making amends would cost a little more. With a small sigh, I produced another coin.

“Most generous, most generous indeed. You truly must be new to Al-Lazar to donate in hard coin,” he guffawed, causing his men to chuckle with him nervously. “The name is Ahmed Rafiq… would give me your name? For the record of course.”

Had I misjudged him? Was the raised eyebrow and cough merely signaling his surprise at being in the real silver of foreign coinage?

I drew a breath to calm myself. “Gilgamesh of Uruk,” I responded flatly, but politely.

"An unfamiliar name, but one I shall endeavor to remember. Making a friend of the City Guard is a wise move indeed. Should you find yourself in any trouble in Al-Lazar, I might be inclined to assist, provided your generosity continues," he said, his eyes gleaming with avarice.

You have gained 1 Charisma

As I read the notification, I could not help the thin smile that crept its way across my face. I would consider two silver coins a good bargain for a permanent increase to one of my attributes. That and a sprinkling of experience points from throwing down hands with the Beastkin.

With a sharp barked-out command, Ahmed directed his men, "You lot, round up these creatures and lock them in the cages where they belong!" The guards saluted briskly before descending on the Beastkin. They subdued any resistance with the truncheons and clubs at their hips, secured them in irons, and then frog-marched them away, parting the crowd as they went.

Ahmed, following his men briefly, stopped a moment later to offer me parting words. "Adventurer Gilgamesh of Uruk, savoring a job well done is a rare pleasure indeed. I wish you and your companion a good day." He then added, with a cautionary tone but a sly smile, "A word to the wise, fraternizing with a crimson whore invites trouble. Not that I can blame you," he said, his smile turning rakish. With a casual wave, he rejoined his men and was soon lost in the crowd. The tall polearms of the City Guard, bobbing above the heads of the general public, gradually disappeared from view.

My fists were clenched tightly at my sides, and I noticed I was shaking. Was I shaking because of frustration, fear, or anger? Maybe it was a blend of all three. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself down. Part of me wanted to scream out in protest, yet a bigger part recognized that I had emerged from this situation better off than the other party. They had certainly got what they deserved.

Zariyah and I drifted off to the side of the street to let the growing traffic pass.

“Are you alright,” I asked softly.

She simply nodded, looking spooked, much like me. We were both likely still processing the whirlwind of events that had just unfolded. In my life, excitement had a peculiar way of arriving. All at once, overwhelming and without warning.

“Do you want to go back?”

To this, she surprisingly responded by shaking her head weakly. She gave me a weak smile. This is life in the city of Dust. I did not expect you to get in so much trouble on your first day here. Your friends were right to say that attract trouble honey does to flies.

You possess a rare strength, I think. I can see how the others are drawn to you. You treat those of the Silver like they were children and the savage Beastkin as if they were unruly pets. You choose violence when silence would serve you better. You are troubling. This was her reply, her finger’s movements straight, crisp, and sure.

“Should I be taking this as a compliment or a complaint against my character?

Take it however you wish, her hands messaged as her usual thorny mask reasserted itself.

With a small huff, she started off back down the road, giving me no choice but to follow her. Women, as always, were as inscrutable as the faraway stars.

Moving together with the flow of the city, we arrived at the Grand Bazaar, a spectacle of raw capitalism at play. The air was filled with the cacophony of merchants, their voices slicing through the noise, boasting of their goods as though narrating epic tales. Amidst this, men and women engaged in spirited haggling over exotic goods, their exchanges resembling a playful pantomime. Money changed hands, sealing deals where the line between victor and vanquished was blurred. The Bazaar also unleashed a barrage of scents upon me; the heady mix of incense, spices, and the unmistakable presence of animals and humans a potent blend that threatened to overwhelm my senses.

Immediately I was fobbed by a gaggle of children, pulling at my sleeves. They entreated me to visit this stall or that, promising, of course, the best of prices. I shooed them all off like the annoying tenacious gnats they were.

Please for the love of the heavens, try not to cause any trouble here. And be careful of your purse, there are pickpockets and thieves here on the occasion. An obvious foreigner like you would make for an easy mark, Zariyah advised, turning to me and displaying a hint of a grin.

“Quite,” was my simple sardonic response.

"Please, sir," a high-pitched voice interrupted from behind me.

As I turned, prepared to dismiss yet another interruption, an inexplicable hesitation seized me. It was as though I stood at destiny's crossroads, with the sense that my impending decision would significantly shape the unfolding narrative. The moment carried the unmistakable aura of a pivotal, perhaps scripted, event.

She was different from the other children. Her hair cascaded in tangles of dull gold without luster, framing a visage marked by the rigors of want. Clad in the merest of rags, her form seemed more a wraith than that of a child's, a specter of deprivation in the midst of plenty.

"Pray, good ser, a trifle for my mother, ill and in dire need," implored the waif, her voice a whisper against the cacophony of uncaring streets.

Ignore her, warned Zariyah with her fingers, at worst this is lie and at best her mother is a Dust addict who deserves her fate. A harsh sentence, indeed, yet within her counsel lay a kernel of wisdom, bitter though it was.

I looked once again at the child. Truly seeing her. Her eyes, deep pools of liquid brown, held the weight of a life unkind. In the depth of their hollow gaze, I saw an honest entreaty.

“You have my attention. Lead me to this mother of yours. My hand shall save,” I declared with confidence.

The beggar girl could only look at me with total surprise, her eyes widening to a ridiculous degree with newfound hope.

“First though, what is your name child? And be quick about it. I do not have all day,” I requested, lowering myself to one knee to her level.

“Theo,” she responded nervously, uncertainty laced in her voice.

A quick Identify spell confirmed that she had not lied and that she was in the best condition.

Theophania Miller - Beggar (Human lvl.6)

Health: 22/33

Stamina: 12/16

Mana: 10/10

With a grin, I encouraged her, “Well then, Theophania Miller, you had best lead on.”

To my astonishment, her eyes managed to widen even further, her mouth shaping into a perfect 'O' of surprise."