A Bright and Shiny Life

The children quickly surround me, and I grip my dagger, then relax a bit when they speak.

“Please ser, can you spare some coin? Any food?” They clammer.

I am a bit surprised as I haven’t been accosted for coin except for a few passive beggars sitting with a cup. I realize that while my attire still says no money, they must have watched me going into several stores to make purchases and figured I must have come into some.

Will tossing a few coppers cause them to disperse quicker or slower? They’re drawing attention, and we’re in the main square.

As I’m contemplating this, I feel a tug on my cloak. I take a sharp step back and look down to a terrified small child, perhaps seven, holding a small sharp knife used to cut purse strings.

“… Pllea… I’am sorr...” they try to stammer.

I back hand them sending them sprawling, then, in one smooth motion I draw my dagger and point it at the biggest child (perhaps a few years younger than me) causing the swarm to silence.

“Move.” I command, gesturing with the blade.

They knock each other over to open a path I quickly walk through, sheathing the dagger without looking a few steps after leaving them.

A few people were looking at the commotion, but most mind their business. Most probably thought I was just another fool to attract the orphan swarm, and the violence was too quick to draw more attention.

They probably all knew I was about to be fleeced and didn’t care. The few watching were probably just waiting to rob the orphans.

Sigh. So close.

When I get to the Bubbling Otter a group of adults armed with cudgels are waiting in front. I move to go around back, but one spots me and points.

Sighing, I turn and walk away. They follow, moving a little faster than my deliberately slow pace.

I turn into an alley, cast concealment, then run with a burst a speed. I enter a blind second alley, where I use the clasp to change my cloak’s colour and stand still against a wall in the shadows.

Concealment wouldn’t normally work on someone specifically looking for me, but changing my cloak’s colour should push it in my favour.

I hear them running down the first alley. So… slow. What gods do they belong to? When fighting soldiers you can assume they’re under a boon of strength, but with thugs you have to guess.

I hold my breath as the group enters the intersection. Two look my way, but move on a moment later. I start walking back towards the inn having slipped past them.

…My skin itches.

…

…

…

Okay, just be smart about it. They did seek me out and might cause problems if I leave them be.

I change my cloak back to brown and follow them as they look for me. I hide behind a corner watching until one of them looks back, then drop my concealment and dash out into an intersection where they see me and immediately shout to the others.

I wait for them to round the corner before dashing around another, taking them deeper into the back alleys and towards the growing slums.

Problem one: Blood markings cannot be washed away when used for a permanent effect such as sacrifice. Bodies showing up with Anar markings will cause the city to be locked down for days, and gate checks to be implemented on out bound traffic instead of just inbound. They may even call in reinforcements of elite mages to track me down.

Problem two: I don’t want to get significant blood on me that a passing knight might smell. Removing the faces with the markings on them would likely soak me.

I’ll have to hide or destroy the bodies without a bloodbath, but how?

Problem three: I’ll have to kill them where no one is watching.

I smile with the solution to all three problems and begin following my nose.

We twist and turn as I look for the source of the increasingly pungent smell. While I wait for them to catch up, I observe them for signs of which god they’re sworn to.

Okay, none of them are fast enough for a strength boon– they’re just too heavy on their feet. Also, none of them have necklaces, so that eliminates oaths that require material symbols of devotion.

What sort of boons would a bunch of robbers take?

Maybe the god of cats, who has not deigned to reveal their name to humans– granting them night vision, hearing, reflexes and coordination.

Well, that one isn’t with them, they just tripped over a stone and nearly faceplanted.

What about Pantokar, the lord of the hunt, granting tracking abilities?

No, they would have spotted me in the first alley.

What about…? I can’t think of any other candidates.

Obviously, Mortimar, lord of theft and broken boundaries would be ideal, but they require a physical symbol which they aren’t displaying. As would any other deity I can think of.

It must be some god I haven’t heard of with a weird boon maybe with activation requirements. Or maybe they’re bluffing. Pretending not to have a boon by moving too slowly like I’m doing and making a show of tripping over obvious obstacles.

This might be more dangerous than I thought.

Just when I think it might be better to shake them after all, my nose leads me to what I’m looking for– a long blind alley between two three story buildings ending with a cesspit.

I wait for them with my back to the pit, tossing my pack to the ground, and loosening my sling but not fully untying it. I observe the surroundings. No windows overlook us just like I thought– they wouldn’t want an opening for the stench.

I examine the ground for advantages. No cover from range and several rocks that can be used as projectiles, some small enough for my sling. I pick one up and keep it in my off hand. No point in wasting a bullet at this distance when they’re not wearing armour.

All right, time to see what their mystery god does.

They run (slowly) around the corner and smile when they see me ‘trapped’. They stop about five paces in front of me and bend over panting heavily. Five thugs, lightly armed. Four with cudgels, one of which is a broken chair leg, and the last with a large butcher knife.

I wait impassively as they catch their breath, pretending to check the sun to see how much time has passed. It’s about a minute before they’re recovered enough to speak.

“Finally caught you little rat.” The lead says, pointing a cudgel at me.

It’s a bit rude to point out my size, I’m sure my growth spurt will come any time.

“Well, here I am. What do you want?” I say, thinking that there’s a possibility of them being useful alive depending on their connections.

Obviously, the tactical thing would have been to shoot them with my sling when they got halfway through the alley and hit them again while they’re deciding to attack or retreat then rush in and incapacitate them all. However, their mystery deity must have a tricky boon.

The most straight forward boon I can imagine that wouldn’t be obvious from observation would be something like granting great strength but only when you’re attacked. It’s a long shot, but it would make sense given their tactics. Corner your prey and scare them into striking first. Their display of vulnerability when they cornered me lends credence to this theory.

“We saw you,” the leader says, “buying a lot of stuff in the square. We thought we should teach a kid how to share.” The goons laugh. “Maybe help out the community. Lots of desperate people in town who could use that coin.”

“And if I spent all my coin already?” I ask coyly.

“You didn’t. You wouldn’t have spent everything without buying some food.”

As a matter of fact, I had no plans of buying food at this town’s prices. I have enough for a few days still and can easily find berries with divination. But I don’t bring this up.

“Hm, let me consider your offer. You make a compelling point.” I sake in mock thought– relishing the anticipation. “Oh, I just had a thought. Who are you? Are you representatives of the community or something? Will you make sure my ‘donation’ gets where it needs to be?”

They laugh. “Oh yeah, we’re with the resistance. We’ll see your coin go to great use. Even fight the Arkothans with it.”

My mood sours. “Snakes in the shadows.” I say flatly.

“What is that supposed to…”

There’s a loud crack as I strike his head with my dagger’s hilt– having leapt the distance before he could register my movement. As he goes down, his eyes without focus, I kick the side of his knee with a crunch that accelerates his fall– causing the back of his head to strike the ground with a thud.

It takes a moment longer for the rest to register my attack, in which time I have moved to the next one. They manage a slow horizontal swing of their chair leg at my head, but I crouch low and make a wide side sweep with my leg, one arm on the ground for balance, which connects with their ankle and trips them to the ground.

They try to get up, but I punch them in the stomach, causing them to curl, then I grab their head and slam it into the ground. Then for good measure I crack them on the forehead with my dagger hilt.

One realizes their mistake and runs, but too late. I switch my dagger hand then, with enhanced coordination, quickly untie my sling the rest of the way and load the stone I picked up.

I may not be the best shot, but in this distance it hardly matters. In a smooth overhand swing, I throw the stone into the back of their leg– causing a spurt of blood and a crack of breaking bone.

Movement to my side and I lean back to let a blur of metal stab a few inches in front of my face. I look at the knife wielder and see a look of fear in their eyes as they realize how casually I dodged an attack they thought I was too distracted to notice.

I grab the extended arm, kick them in the side of the knee causing them to buckle as I pull the arm forward– sending their head slamming right into my hilt. I let them collapse to the ground.

Seeing the shot one trying to limp away I rush up and bash the back of the head.

Finally, I turn to face the last one who very much resembles a tree in a thunderstorm– club shaking like a branch, and water flowing down the trunk.

“Really,” I say annoyed, “you couldn’t have pissed before you tried to rob me? I don’t want to get that on me.”

“You’re a godsworn.” He stammers, correctly assuming I’m not a squire by my attire.

“No shit! Why aren’t you!?” I near shout, realizing how much competence I erroneously ascribed to them.

“We couldn’t afford the holy symbols.” He says.

“Not all deities require material recompense you idiot! Why would you ever choose to attack someone without a boon?!”

“But those gods are really strict, and you’re just a kid. We figured we’d just intimidate you, not fight.”

I stare in horrified disbelief at his utter stupidity. “What the fuck does being a kid have to do with anything? I once saw a child half my age cut through a column of troops and kill the mage they were protecting with nothing but a knife and divine power. Why would you just assume I’m not under oath?”

“I don’t know! Most people aren’t walking around with powerful boons!”

“Well, you should!” I say, feeling slightly the hypocrite as I also assumed I could take them without realizing they weren’t inscribed with power. In my defence I could always use my magic if things went bad or even pull out the mirror.

“Does that mean you’ll let us go?” He asks, taking my call to future action as a sign that he’ll have a future in which to act.

I glare, causing him to wince. “What group do you belong to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who are you and how did you organize this attack?”

“We didn’t organize anything. We’re just refugees trying to scrounge food for our kids. We aren’t normally violent, but we saw you throwing around so much coin without protection.”

All I hear is refugee: disappear all the time, won’t be missed.

“So,” I say, trying to get as clear as answer as possible. “you’re under no group’s protection?”

“Um, I guess Lindrid is kinda our leader. He looks after and tries to protect us refugees.”

“Does he know you intended to rob me?”

“No, he only deals with the big stuff.”

“Does anyone?”

“…No, we gathered everyone that was around…look are you going to let me go?”

I snarl at him. “You make me sick.”

“What?”

“I mean at least collaborators do something. Of course we lost when Caelthlon is full of wretches like you, unwilling to make the most basic of sacrifice for power.”

“You’re… res–“ He starts in realization.

I crack him in the skull before he can finish the word.

Once he’s down, I remove my cloak and roll up my sleaves– thinking on how to do this.

First, I cut his coin purse and toss it over to my pack. Got to make it look like a robbery, and coin is always useful. Then I cut and rip off his tunic, before finally cutting my palm to apply the symbols.

When I’m ready to offer him, I hold the tunic in a wad against his chest near the heart and stab through it– letting the cloth catch the blood spray as power flows through me.

I repeat the process with the other four. Once done, I use the strength bestowed to easily lift them– careful not to get any fluids on me, blood or otherwise– and toss them in the cesspit. Once the last body is in, I take one of their waterskins and wash my hands, dagger, and face for any blood that got through the clothes, then toss the waterskin in too.

I do one last check to make sure I have everything I’m taking and everything I’m leaving is with them, then cast a firestream spell on the cesspit and hold it until the whole thing fully catches into a blaze.

That done, I calmly pick up my pack and walk away from the building infernal, casting concealment and changing my cloak to match the walls. Nothing suspicious, cesspits catch fire all the time– especially in the heat of summer.

Bodies get found in them too– especially in this part of town. They might cause alarm when found, but they won’t see the marks. Probably no one will even care.

I stop a few times on the way back to the Bubbling Otter, dangling the Crystal Pendulum to find a roundabout route. It probably isn’t necessary, but it’s good practice on the off chance they might overreact and dispatch a whole divination team to find the killer.

I get back a few hours before dark. I quickly find Tala and get her attention after she finishes serving a table in a now busy common room.

“If you could bring my meal and bath up when you’re not too busy please Tala.” I say with a smile.

“Of course, which one first?” She says, smiling back.

“Oh, the food I suppose.”

“Be right up. Good you got back now. Storm’s coming.”