Marketplace Mayhem (Adventure, Peer-Mod)

[Lauke]

All Allerian children learn in the Grammaticus and Schola that Abestat, formerly the city of Lux in the kingdom of Luctadomum, was the first of Constantine's great Conquests. Without Abestat, the Allerian Kingdom might not have grown to the mighty Empire it was today. As such, the city had been transformed throughout the eras into a model example of what an Allerian city should be. The Guards were well-trained and loyal, the docks and businesses were industrious and profitable, and the marketplace was orderly and peaceful.

Today, to everyone's surprise, that last point was about to change.

* * *

In a small one-room shack in the Domicilium, a young human awoke to the feeling of a soft pillow beneath his head and stiff boards beneath the rest of his body. I'm on the floor, he thought, grunting as he shifted his position from laying down to sitting up. Did I fall off the bed?

Within a few seconds, his eyes opened, squinting to keep the light out of his eyes, and looked about him. That's odd, he thought. Where's the bed? His eyes drifted over the rest of the house, where he found the bed in the opposite corner - occupied. "Of course!" he cried out, the memories of the previous day rushing back to him. It would likely be a day that Lauke, citizen of Abestat, would never forget.

A stranger had come to his door, named Cy'ycil Spellcore, asking for shelter. Lauke, being the kind-hearted descendant of a soldier serving under Constantine as the Allerian conquered Lux, had happily obligied. Now he also recalled that he and Cy'ycil would head to the marketplace today, to see about procuring another bed that the two might comfortably live in the same house.

Standing up now, Lauke yawned as he stretched his muscles and shook the lethargy from his head. He walked over to the bed and gently shook the sleeping figure. "Wake up Cy'ycil," he said with a grin. "It's a new brightening! There's so much to do and so little time!"

OOC: Here begin the adventure!

[Cyy'cil Spellcore]

Starting to open his eyes, Cyy'cil closed them again against any light drifting into the room. Wanting nothing more than to pull the blankets back up over his head and complain to himself. It wasn't just the long path to Abestat that left this young man so tired. Cyy'cil Spellcore had never been a morning person, and this brightening was no exception. Finally deciding to gather himself, he forced himself off the pillow and upright in the bed. "Time to start our day already?" yawned the new Abestat citizen. Rubbing his eyes, and the hair in his face, it was apparent that Cyy'cil was one who made good use of his sleep.

After finally getting dressed, and gathering his wits he sat down. Tying the weathered boots tightly, Cyy'cil told Lauke "We might as well get out to the market place. I want us to have some time to look around Abestat while we're shopping for that bed." finishing the last knot in his left shoe. After checking to see Lauke was prepared too, Cyy'cil tucked his dagger into his pants, and opened the door

[Lauke]

Seeing that Cyy'cil was awake and active, Lauke made his way to the cupboard and opened it. Oh, my, he thought to himself, seeing how close it was to being completely bare. We'll have to buy ourselves some food as well; probably enough for the next cycle. With a shrug, the human pulled out the remaining food - four bread rolls and two small blocks of cheese - and closed the cabinet door. It would truly be a brightening of renewal.

Seeing that Cyy'cil was ready, Lauke smiled in response to his friend's idea and followed him out the door. "So do I, friend, especially since-" he tossed two rolls and a block of cheese, one at a time, into Cyy'cil's hands, "-as of now, our food stores have been emptied." He chuckled a bit at his own brand of humor. "I suppose we might as well be off!" And with that, Lauke closed the door to their simple home and started down the street with Cyy'cil, eating his rolls and cheese as they walked.

As the size and simplicity of Lauke's house might suggest, the part of the Domicilium they resided in was relegated to the lower classes, the simple laborers as well as those truly down on their luck. As they walked, they found themselves going by poorly built and maintained shanties randomly scattered among the simple but respectable houses like Lauke's. One man, shabbily dressed, lay against the wall of one particularly bad shanty; his squinty, unreadable eyes watched the two friends go by. Grunting, he lay himself fully on the ground and curled up in a ball in an attempt to sleep, trying to ignore his rumbling belly.

The further they went along the road, the better maintained the homes became. There were doors where once there had been none, and the roofs - unlike Lauke's - could handle several more storms. It was now fully morning, and the bright sunlight roused the laborers to their jobs. A man in plain clothing led a donkey-driven cart through the street, smiling contently. A wife knelt before another house, digging up vegetables from her garden plot to feed her family.

Further on up the street, grunts of effort and shouted commands filled the air as a partly built home came into view. Several well-built men carried boards and logs into place as others came forth with nails and hammers. A rotund, well-dressed man stood before the entire spectacle, watching them progress with satisfaction and ignoring the street behind him on which Lauke and Cyy'cil walked.

On the other side of the street, a mother kissed her little boy goodbye. "Be good son, and do what the teacher tells you!" "I will, Ma." The child swung a pack over his back and ran down the street to the nearest grammaticus.

After all this walking, Lauke and Cyy'cil reached the end of the street. A large, nondescript building was set in front of them, and the street split into two directions perpendicular to their own. Lauke stopped suddenly. "Oh my, I seem to have forgotten the way," he exclaimed, popping the last bite of bread into his mouth. As he chewed, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Left or right, left or right..." suddenly, he turned to Cyy'cil. "Which way should we go?" he asked. The young human could not for the life of him remember where places were beyond his own street.

And to think - he actually considered becoming an adventurer someday.

[Cyy'cil Spellcore]

Lauke wanted Cyy'cil's judgement on direction. Unfortunately for the both of them, the human seemed to have been born with the innate ability to find the longest, most wrong path forward, but what would progress be without taking two steps back for everyone single one you made. "Well, I think we should go..." bending down and putting his finger into the dirt, "to the right."

Seeing Lauke didn't have much of a clue as to their direction either, Cyy'cil started walking to the left. Pulling out a bun and biting into it, the man walked casually down the street with Lauke. Little did he know that today wouldn't be a casual day, and the pair would find more adventure than they had ever bargained for.

[Lauke]

Lauke smiled once again as Cyy'cil chose their direction. "All right, then!" he cried. "In that direction we shall go, and let us hope it is the correct one!" the human laughed again at his own words, then fell into step beside his friend.

As they walked, they noticed once again a subtle change in their surroundings. The humble, lower-class homes slowly gave way to the well-to-do middle class. Houses became larger and more attractive to the eye, built well and strong, and sometimes covered with the protective substance known as paint. The dirt roads of Lauke's quarter of the Domicilium slowly evolved to cobblestones, then to brick and mortar. The morning was now in full swing, and the streets began to fill with people going about their business, talking and gossiping about everything and anything:

"...I tell ya, I saw it! A ghastly hellbear! I looked straight into its monstrous eyes, and I'm sure I would've been eaten if I hadn't skedaddled right out of there!..."
"...and then my friend, she's a servant at the Thane's mansion, told me they're going to raise the profit tax! Again! No, I don't know if it's true, but we can hardly make ends meet as it is..."
"...okay, the Merry Troupe performs at the thirteenth candlemark, and again at the fifteenth, so if I pick up my daughter from her sewing lesson at the twelve-and-half mark..."

These were just a few of the lines the two could pick up from the deluge of conversation amongst the citizens of Abestat. But no matter the volume of the people around them, the part of the city ahead of them was even louder. Shops and businesses appeared in the distance, and the pair could just barely pick out the forms of people and stalls. It seemed they had chosen the right direction.

"It's all so lively, isn't it?" Lauke said to Cyy'cil, beaming at the peaceful activity of the townsfolk. "Oomph!" he grunted a moment later as a young boy ran into him. The child looked up, and the duo saw the dirty, hard face of one who has lived in squalor and poverty. "Pardon me, sir," he said before walking off into the crowd, his bright red hair standing out in the plainer colors of simple clothing.

"No harm done," Lauke called after him. "But watch where you're going next time!" He turned back to face Cyy'cil. "So, what all do we need?" he asked, digging into his left pocket. "We need another bed, as well as more food, perhaps for a cycle..."

His voice trailed off as his hand came up empty. "That's odd..." he frowned. "I could have sworn my pouch of crowns was in this pocket..." he dug in the other pocket, coming up empty again. His eyes widened as he realized the truth. "That boy! He picked my pocket! I had at least two hundred crowns in that pouch! Where is he?!"

Lauke looked back and forth in his shock and fury, trying to find a glimpse of the young pickpocket in the crowd. A flash of red hair... "There he is! After him!" Lauke cried to Cyy'cil, breaking into a run after the figure. The red hair accelerated as well, seeing that the game was up. I know I wanted adventure, but not something like this, the human thought. And the day had started out so well...

*Three minutes earlier*

A trio of men walked along the streets of the city, close to the mercantile district. Walking through a crowd of people intent on making it to the docks, they avoided physical contact with all of them - except for one. A small, red-headed boy accidently walked into the leader, who immediately swung a fist and knocked the poor lad to the ground. "Don't walk into your betters, boy. Get me?" he growled, indicating the sheathed sword at his side.

"Pardon me, sir," the boy replied, rubbing his sore head as he pulled himself up from the ground before walking on his way.

"Stupid kids," the leader said to his cohorts as they walked on. "Get stupider every year, don't they?" he said, chortling. One companion, a large, muscular individual, smiled dumbly as he laughed monotonously with his leader. The third companion, a short fellow with a pointed nose and a permanent frown, rolled his eyes at the ironic choice of words.

"So, spill the beans Jack. What's the mission?" asked the third. "It's real simple, Tom," Jack replied. "All we gotta do is deliver the locket, then we get a nice, fat payment from the boss. Enough to retire on, if we're careful. So don't worry; it'll go down real smooth."

"Dud wonder: what locket look like? It pretty?" the large man asked in a deep, throaty voice.

"For once, Dud has a good idea. What's this locket look like, Jack?" Tom asked, his eyes squinting in suspicion. "It's real nice lookin', Tom. Made of solid gold, I reckon. Matter of fact, has a neat engraving on the front..." Jack replied, grinning with pointed teeth as he dug into his pocket.

It came up empty. "Oh, no, no, no no..." he breathed. "NO!" he screamed in frustration. "That dumb kid! He stole the locket! I'll kill him! I'll kill him! And whoever gets in the way!"

"Calm down," Tom replied in a calm but forceful tone. "He can't be but half a minute away." The short man then breathed in the air, his nostrils flaring to twice the size of a normal man's. He breathed in the air twice more, then pointed in a particular direction. "That way."

"Good," Jack seethed, his hand settling on his sword hilt. "I got me a bastard child to kill. Nobody steals from Jack the Furious. Nobody!"

[Cyy'cil Spellcore]

While Lauke had taken off with more speed than the boy could manage, Cyy'cil had what he thought was a better idea. Seeing the roads intersecting farther ahead, the young man backtracked to the road behind him. Running down the street beside the one Lauke and Red Hair took off on. Quickly keeping up to them and then finally sprinting to pass the pair. Cyy'cil emerged from the side streets.

Ever so close to taking a dangerous spill, the human bowled into the boy and Lauke, landing in a tangled mess across the ground of Abestat. "Well it looks like we've caught up to you at last young man." Cyy'cil looked at him, wondering how to handle this boy. Maybe he had to steal, to provide his family with food. Or maybe he was just intent on taking what didn't belong to him.

Either way the man decided before taking any action, the pair of adventurer's should see if he still had Lauke's crowns. "Do you remember what you took from my friend?" Surely the answer was yes, because tears of fear began to well in the red haired boys eyes. "I suggest you hand those back to their proper owner."

Kneeling Cyy'cil put his hands into the big pouch the boy was carrying. Retrieving the crowns he also came out with a locket. Golden shine glinted even in the average light of the Abestat market place. Deciding it belonged to somebody else too; the man took the locket to return it to its proper owner. While this certainly hadn't been the adventure they hoped for, returning the locket was the least the pair could do.

[Lauke]

Indeed, after such an unexpected confrontation, the face of the red-haired boy was one of abject terror. Tears of guilt and grief spilled from his eyes as he contemplated the consequences of being caught. "I'm real sorry," he whispered sorrowfully, "but I didn't have any choice. Dad's run off, and Momma's real sick, and if I don't get enough gold for a healer..." he choked up, then continued. "...she's gonna die."

Just at that moment, Lauke finally caught up to the pair, running up to them breathing hard. "Good, you, caught, him," he wheezed between breaths. It had been a long time since he had had to run that hard. At length, the time between each breath expanded and his heartbeat returned to normal. "Since we have my crowns back, I guess there's no point in turning him in. Hey, is that gold? What is it?" Lauke asked curiously, looking closer at the golden locket.

"A secret," said another voice, quite different from the high-pitched tones of the pickpocket or the relatively reasonable tones of Lauke and Cyy'cil. Turning about, the duo could see what the red-haired youth already saw: a large, stupid-looking brute, an average, furious muscleman, and a short, mousey fellow, grinning evily. "And you know what they say," the mousey man continued, producing a dagger from the folds of his cloak as the average man drew his longsword and the brute brought a warhammer into view.

"Six can keep a secret, if three of them are dead."

This was not good. Lauke and Cyy'cil had chased the pickpocket to a deserted block of the city, so there was no one else who could help them. Neither Lauke nor the child had any weapons, and there was nothing around that could improvise as such. The streets, however, were completely clear of obstacles. Left, right, and straight behind. Three directions. Three victims. Three attackers.

"Any good ideas?" Lauke whispered aside to Cyy'cil.