Life of a Fist

by Dewderson

Running parallel with the early portions of The Way of Shadows by Brent Weeks, Life of a Fist follows Daveth, the fist of Warrens guild; Two Fist, one of Black Dragon's rivals.

Daveth's eyes cracked open and shot around the room, it was still dark in the derelict wooden store; the store was tiny, with one window, one door, a counter, a shelf and an overhang outside. Sitting in the only chair and facing the door, or rather, the empty doorway; he could see the guard he had posted outside had fallen asleep. The Big sat with his back to the wall just outside on the right of the open door, his head slumped with his chest rising and sinking slowly, his name was Leo, Daveth would make sure to punish him as soon as he thought he had gotten away with it. Daveth's eyes flicked around the room some more, some Littles were all huddled into the corner right of the door, all except Harelip, who sat in the opposite corner by himself, he was awake and shivering in his ragged tunic and torn pants, his eyes met Daveth's despite the darkness, then he looked away and stared at the floor.

"Sorry Dav." He squeaked out.

Daveth ignored him and looked at the counter behind him, the other four Bigs sat on it all leaning against each other and slumped down in uncomfortable positions, despite that they were all clearly asleep. Daveth stood and gripped the shiv tucked in his dirty pants. He adjusted his loose linen vest over his ragged clothes, the vest had

been nice once; nicer than a guild fist would ever buy; Harelip had given it to him after he couldn't steal any money to pay dues, some merchant with the misfortune of going through the Warrens likely wasn't surprised when he noticed it was missing. Daveth lifted his left foot and looked at the huge hole in his simple shoe, he had a big blister at the ball of his foot, he didn't dare drain it with all the shit he had to step over regularly. He walked up to two Bigs on the far side of the counter, he saw all the other littles crammed behind the counter, as many as could fit had wedged themselves behind it. He jabbed two Bigs in their stomachs with his fingers, their eyes cracked open and they looked at him attentively.

"We're going to the tavern." They nodded in unison and stood up at the same time.

What was funny was the two were so inseparable, their simple clothes had dirt and holes in all the same places, presumably from crawling and hiding in the same crevices and crawlspaces. Their names were Tit and Tat, they looked alike; both six feet tall with dark bedraggled hair, prominent features, blue eyes and light skin; but the two didn't know if they were brothers by blood, like most children in the Warrens they didn't even remember their parents. Daveth stepped outside, it was dark but the dark blue sky told him it was early morning, he looked at the store's sign. The herb on it had lost its color, "Thief" etched in one side and "Charlatan" etched into the other, Daveth was always amazed someone in the Warrens knew what "Charlatan" even meant, and more so that they had taken the time to carve it into the sign instead of putting "Liar" or something shorter, if not for Two Fists' somewhat educated guild head Daveth wouldn't even know the word charlatan either. The last owner of the store had posed as a healer, though anyone he had "healed" had died shortly after, more horribly than they would have before, if they were lucky they just got more sick, needless to say no deed of ownership passed on to anyone after the "healer" had been beaten to death. Daveth looked in both directions, one leading to the street, the other to an intersection of alleyways, someone was pissing directly in the middle of the intersection and spinning in circles whilst humming to himself, the man stumbled and fell in his own piss, "Clumsy whoreson!" Daveth smirked as the man looked around, realizing he not only fell in his piss on his own, he called himself a clumsy whoreson as well. The man made eye contact with Daveth before muttering and staggering to his feet, every part of him that had touched the ground was covered in shit. The drunk stumbled out of sight. Daveth stepped off toward the street with Tit and Tat wordlessly in tow.

There was no one on the street except for a prostitute and a hooded man to the left of her, the man was leaning on a wall behind her as she stood on the street. She saw Daveth and his bodyguards and smiled, she started walking towards them. Fortunately the tavern was in the opposite direction, so Daveth turned his back towards her and started walking, he turned his head and saw her scowl, Tat and Tit were staring at her and not even watching where they were going. As they passed alleyways and makeshift buildings Daveth saw some Littles scrawling something on a wall in an alleyway on the opposite side of the street, he walked over to see what they were drawing, he didn't recognize them so he turned to Tit and Tat and held a finger up to his lips, they nodded in unison. There were three of them, none of them looked older than ten. Two were deep in their wall art while the third had his hands on his knees; his mouth agape. Daveth walked behind the third and put his shiv to his neck before putting his hand over the child's mouth. Daveth had killed other Bigs in territory disputes before, but he wouldn't kill a Little even if rocks were tossed at him beforehand. The other two

were drawing a black dragon, it looked fierce, coiling around a gigantic fist and breathing fire on a matching fist.

"Wow, wow, wow! That looks the slam." Daveth said in his best kid voice.

"Thanks Mouse!" Said the one on the right as they finished the burning fist. The Little Daveth had grabbed murmured through Daveth's hand. The one on the left bolted into the alley without even looking behind him, Daveth admired the little survivor's instincts. The other turned slowly and Tit grabbed him by his filthy tunic and lifted him off the ground, the Little panicked and started moving his feet as if to run away whilst

clawing at Tit's hand.

"Useless guttershite!" Daveth screamed at Tat. "You let the other one get away!" Tit and Tat frowned in unison.

"Now Mouse, why don't you tell me what you black lizard turds are doing on Two Fist turf?" Daveth lifted his hand from the boy's mouth to let him answer.

"It was Rat's idea! Rat said we could move in since your bigs are always in

big groups, he said you wouldn't catch us this early!" Rat... he hated the very nickname the fat fist had given himself, the concept alone irritated the hell out of Daveth, a fat street urchin, that told Daveth volumes, Rat was a sack of fresh shit that

deserved to be in the Warrens. Daveth had seen him when their guild heads met to settle disputes, Rat always looked at him in a way that made him uncomfortable, he'd heard rumours, the Black Dragon fist kept "girls and pretty boys" on retainer as his harem. The furry little rodent was a rapist, it explained how someone younger than

most guild fists had become Ja'laliel's fist. Mouse was puzzled at the sudden drawn out silence.

"What's your little friend's name?" Daveth asked softly, trying to sound friendly. "Scrawler," Mouse said meekly. Scrawler was trying to kick Tit with his tiny legs but couldn't reach, Tit made a fist and was about to punch the little boy in the face.

"T. Don't." Tit looked at Daveth and put his fist down.

"Alright Mouse, I'm gonna let you go, if you run off like your other friend we're gonna hurt Scrawler, got it?"

"Got it." Mouse replied in an instant.

Daveth let Mouse go and the boy stepped forward, turning towards Daveth and staring at the ground. Daveth held out a copper coin in front of Mouse's vision, the boy gasped and met Daveth's gaze.

"You tell me something worthwhile, and not only will I let you go, you'll get this. I'll even give one to Scrawler for such a good drawing."

Mouse's mouth curled into a cute little smile and he blurted out "We pay dues tomorrow! Our guild building is between the waterfront and the market on Durdun, it's big with wood and stone on the bottom, bamboo on top!"

Daveth flicked the copper at Mouse and he caught it instantly.

"T." Daveth said, Tit grunted and put Scrawler down next to Mouse,

Scrawler looked at Daveth with excitement before putting out his hands as Daveth dug into his waist pouch and pulled out another copper, he dropped it in Scrawler's palm and Scrawler looked at it with a bright smile before frowning.

"What?" Daveth asked with a tone of irritation.

Scrawler looked down and mumbled "It's just... I need another for dues, I'm short. Rat will hurt me."

Daveth sighed and pulled out another copper. Holding it up so the two could see it.

"I give you this extra copper and you two meet me here every week from now and tell me something useful, a copper for each of you." They both looked at each other before looking back at Daveth, "Deal!" Scrawler snatched it and the two darted off into the dark alley, Scrawler stopped just before he was out of sight, he turned and yelled back.

"Thanks! You're the slam!" Daveth grinned and watched the boy go. Tat pulled his cock out and pissed all over the Dragon graffiti, smirking as the charcoal drawing trickled down into the shit lining the alley. The Tavern was only two blocks away, Daveth started walking and saw a shady man leave the tavern in the distance with his hood up.

As he walked up to the tavern door a boy darted out from underneath the tavern and broke into a full sprint, he was so panicked he didn't even see Daveth and his Bigs. Daveth scoffed and pushed the Tavern door open, bodies littered the floor with blood pouring through the bamboo. One of the corpses was splayed open through his leather jerkin with his entrails hanging out. Tat retched onto the floor and Tit looked away.

Daveth sniffed and could only smell blood. "Search the corpses, before they shit themselves." Daveth rolled over a man close to a table, his eyes glazed, his body still warm. Daveth realized the man was his size, wearing a black outfit of a gambeson, padded pants with thick material over the knees and some black boots. He rushed to steal the dead man's clothes and weapons, undoing the leather straps that tightened the Gambeson and tugging the man's boots off. As he undid the man's sword belt he heard Tit shrieking

"Dav! DAV!" Daveth scowled before answering "Shut the hell up before s-" Daveth looked up and saw a wide eyed guard, likely having come in for a drink after getting off duty. The guard tensed, pulled out a whistle and brought it to his lips, then he froze. The three could see he was mulling something over in his head, He brought the whistle down and smiled through his crooked black teeth, then eased the door closed. Daveth wondered what had stopped the guard, but assumed it was likely that the guard didn't wanna do unnecessary work.

Daveth's mouth hung open, he shot looks at Tit and Tat, Tat was hunched over a corpse with it's hands reaching up as if the dead man had clawed at nothing as he died. From the way Tat was hunched, it looked like Tat had just murdered him, Tit collapsed on top of a corpse that had it's throat cut with blood still pouring between the bamboo, It was the first time Tit ever fainted. Daveth would never know what stopped the guard, but it wasn't the first time guards had ignored a crime, the fact was if you pulled up a nail then smashed it with a rock, no matter how crooked the nail, it wasn't as crooked as the guards of Cenaria and even more so of the guards posted in the Warrens. Picking the sword belt off the floor by the half naked corpse, Daveth saw it had simple black hilted twin quillon daggers attached to it. He tugged off the man's trousers and threw them over his shoulder. He saw Tat collect an unsheathed sword and a small axe with one hand before walking over and hoisting Tit over his shoulder. They left without saying a word, Daveth wondered who killed them, five tough looking thugs turned into bloody meat on the floor, one whose cause of death wasn't even clear. He considered that it might be poison and that the clothes might be infected, then dismissed the idea as the Warrens wasn't really much of a life anyways. Passing the same alleyways and a messy Black Dragon drawing again, it was a few minutes before Daveth spotted the prostitute from earlier, she looked at him, then looked away and crossed her arms. For a woman as pretty as she was working in the Warrens, rejection must not have come to her often. The hooded man shot Daveth a grin of approval, and Daveth smiled back at him. He saw the grin fade as the man looked quizzically at an armed Tat and an unconscious Tit.

They entered the alley before Daveth saw the hooded man do anything else. Daveth could see Leo was awake now, standing attentively at the door, his tan Sethi skin and dark hair smeared with what Daveth hoped was dirt. There was still a few hours before sun up, Daveth stepped into the store and noticed there was a bowl of clean water, Leo had probably deduced that Daveth saw him sleeping and tried to make up for it, it occurred to Daveth that even the gesture was a misstep, since fetching it meant the store was unguarded and full of sleeping guild rats, except for a sobbing Harelip with his face buried in his arms and legs.

"Back to sleep T, I'll need you and your brother at dawn."

Tat grunted and put Tit's back against the counter, he took his place next to him and slumped his head down, falling asleep almost instantly. Daveth dropped the stolen clothes onto the floor, stripping off his vest and tunic and tossing it into another pile, he sat down on the chair and pulled his shoes off before standing again and slipping off his ragged pants, he slipped on the padded trousers and noted it was a perfect fit, trying the boots on, they were roomy and comfortable enough not to hurt his blister. Slipping on the gambeson and fastening the leather straps at the center, it was the most comfortable thing he had ever worn, Fastening the sword belt to his waist, he pulled out one of the daggers, it was sharp, with no signs of use, the quillon was straight and the blade a foot long. He sheathed it and knelt down in front of the bowl of water, he looked at his reflection and a gaunt face looked back at him. Then the dead man's face ran through his mind, his brown eyes glazed from death. He realized he bared a likeness to the thug he had stripped almost naked. He stroked his unkempt brown hair forward, dipping his hand into the water and cleaning the dirt off his face. The dead man in the

tavern now substituting Daveth's reflection in the water. The likeness making him shudder, he didn't look like a guild rat anymore, he only hoped no one would complete the transformation and add the glaze to his eyes from death's reflection.

He sat down on the chair, his hands gripping the hilts of his new daggers. He was asleep in minutes despite Harelip's sobbing.

A big set of hands shook him awake, it was Tit, Tat stood behind him, the quiet bigs looking at him expectantly.

"Sun's up?" The two nodded in reply. Daveth stood and walked out the door, his hands still resting on his new daggers, Leo shot

him a quizzical look, "You don't even look like one of us anymore Dav." He said with a tone of surprise. Clothes do make the man. Daveth grinned in reply, he looked up at the morning sky, it was clear and beautiful, they'd slept in a few hours, he looked back into the store, some Littles standing up from behind the counter rubbing their eyes, the other two Bigs standing in front of it meeting his eyes like dogs waiting for orders. Light skinned with long hair, the two Bigs were named Brom and Tom, Brom was larger than Daveth and all the other Bigs, towering over just about everyone Daveth had ever met, he had a crooked nose and blue eyes with blonde hair. Tom was a little shorter than Brom, his hair black and his eyes brown, he had a scar on his temple, Daveth remembered it was from a turf war with Burning Men, though far from all of the Two Fists had spent the night in the store, Daveth personally permitted each and every one in as a boon, though he didn't bother to remember the names of all the Littles he let in, he knew their faces and all of them paid dues on time; Leo, Tit, Tat, Brom and Tom had

all been in at least one guild fight, and in each of the fights, someone had died.

Daveth turned to Leo, "You're with me today. Brom and Tom will stay and guard the store." Though empty, the store was the best guild building in the Warrens, the rest were so makeshift that guilds had to winter inside Momma K's brothels and sleep on the floor, or worse, in the sewers. Two Fists had several guild buildings, though four of them could hardly be considered buildings. The guild would shift due collection between the buildings so no one would do what he was about to do, pop in to a rival guild's territory and watch the collection. He thought he should report to Ulric first, the former

mercenary liked to know everything that happened, if something went wrong with Daveth's band while in Black Dragon territory Ulric would be furious.

He remembered meeting Ulric, the mercenary strolled into Daveth's store and beat the Two Fist's guild head to death with his bare hands, Daveth and his bigs tried to stop Ulric of course, but even with Ulric's right arm stiff from an enormous scar

that likely went to the bone, Ulric had fought them off at the same time. Daveth tried to stab Ulric in the stomach after Ulric kicked the guild head in the face and knocked him and the chair onto their backs, Ulric caught Daveth's hand and wrenched the shiv free before kicking him in the stomach so hard he fell to the floor gasping for air. Ulric punched Tit in the face as he tucked Daveth's shiv into his belt. Tit recoiled and Ulric effortlessly threw Tit into Tat before punching the guild head in the larynx so hard it killed him almost instantly. Daveth remembered staggering to his feet, watching Tit and

Tat fumbling around on the floor trying to get up. Daveth pulled his other shiv from his shoe and brought a fist up, keeping his knife at his waist so he could thrust with enough force.

"Your stance isn't bad, boy. A defensive hand and an offensive knife hand, simple. How would you like to be my guild

fist?"

"I am guild fist." Daveth said in frustration.

"Well you've done a piss poor job then." Ulric said with a smile whilst motioning to the corpse as if to say 'See?'

"Like we'd just let you take over, we'll never accept you as our leader." Daveth thrusted the blade from his hip, With raised eyebrows Ulric sidestepped in a flash and dodged a blade to the throat, Grabbing Daveth's wrist whilst spinning Daveth around so his back was to him and twisting so hard that Daveth let the blade fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. Ulric glanced at Daveth's bodyguards, he kicked a kneeling Tat in the face and locked his hand in a death grip around Tit's throat, digging his fingers around Tit's larynx, squeezing, Tit clawed at Ulric's hand, Ulric just squeezed harder until Tit dropped his hands, accepting his defeat. Ulric pulled Daveth closer and released his wrist, Daveth turned and brought his right fist up to punch Ulric in the face, Ulric had already drawn Daveth's first shiv from an aged sword belt with a plain arming sword attached, the point of the shiv was pressed against Daveth's throat.

"You lose." The grizzled man said playfully. Daveth looked at his aged features, it should have been obvious from when he walked in that he was a seasoned fighter, Daveth realized his stupidity, he'd thrown himself at a trained killer based on his loyalties to a dead man. He looked at the soldier's face, his skin was wrinkled and aged as if he were fifty, yet Daveth could tell he was far younger than he looked by at least two decades, Ulric had a vertical scar on his lips and another on his right cheek, a horizontal scar marked his left cheek and looked almost fresh, it was thick with keloid. He had a crooked nose, and gray eyes like a wolf's, his hair was already gray with white hairs mixed in, his hair was brushed back with a receding hairline. He wore a gray gambeson with the sleeves cut off showing muscular arms covered in scars, the collar stained with sweat, simple black pants with black boots. Stitched up brown leather gloves covered his hands, his arming sword looked aged, likely having seen at least two campaigns, the leather scabbard had notches forming tallies, likely a kill count, the sword was ugly with an aged leather hilt and plain pommel. If Daveth ever wanted to kill himself but was too afraid to, attacking this man would be an efficient method of suicide.

"Shit... We'll follow. Right boys?" Daveth mumbled out. A series of Mhhm, Mhhm, Mhhms erupted from Tit and Tat.

Ulric burst out laughing.

"You'll follow shit, boy?" Ulric asked while stifling another laugh. "Show me my new guild." A smiling Ulric ordered.

After a long day, and an even longer month, Ulric was the unopposed head of Two Fist and the oldest guild head in the Warrens, in just a month; Two fist territory had doubled in size. Ulric had always told Daveth that guilds "Played at war" and never really tried to fight each other. Ulric still paid review, though he was confident in his leadership, the Two Fists wouldn't survive if every guild fought against them at once. Daveth had waited weeks before asking why a seasoned and skilled mercenary would suddenly want to run a gang of young slave-born street urchins, in response, Ulric had held up his scarred right arm.

"After a brush with death, my sword arm was too slow for me to last much longer."

"We didn't notice." Daveth shot back. Ulric grinned in reply, he liked it when people acknowledged his fighting ability, he'd taught Daveth how to fight with a knife better than he had taught himself,

"Daggers kill quick boy, close distance with one move, and stab the right point, your opponent's dead."

"Why use swords at all?" A quizzical Daveth asked.

"Reach, parries, ripostes, feints and other advantages make a sword the most versatile, unless you're precise as a needle, quick as a cat and dishonorable as a back alley whore, a dagger or two isn't ideal."

Daveth snapped back into the present, Leo looked as if he was about to say something. Daveth anticipated it and said it in unison with Leo, "I haven't slept yet." Leo's eyes widened and he looked down.

"You already got all that sleep when you were on watch Leo, try and slip something past me again, see what happens." Leo almost shrunk into himself.

"Sorry Dav." He said meekly. Daveth stepped off to the street, it was about fifteen minutes before they reached the market on Durdun, Daveth saw two pairs of guards eyeing him up with eyebrows raised, probably wondering why a brothel

basher or Warrens thug had a bunch of street urchins following him around. Daveth pushed through the thin crowds, produce, fish, and weapons were all for sale, though the produce looked almost rotten and the fish smelled like a whore

who didn't bathe in a year, the weapons vendor had a small crowd around him, shouting about how a sword he was holding to display.

"Once tucked away amongst the corpses of the Dead Demesne, this blade is part of a legend, part of history, five gold pieces from any kingdom, and you'll hold a very legend in your sword hand!"

A sudden silence washed over the small crowd, only brief murmurs being heard.

"A lie." Daveth said to him as he passed. "Fuck yerself guttershite!" screamed the trader, accidentally dropping his sword as he screamed. The sword didn't clatter, it shattered. People in the crowd had wide eyed expressions, then the small crowd broke up and scattered to other vendors.

"Five pieces! Now boy! Before I call the guards!" The angry trader stomped his foot as he spoke, rage in his eyes.

"Sure!" Said Daveth with a grin, he dug in a pouch for a minute then pulled out his hand. His middle finger held up,

"That enough?" Daveth asked with a snicker. "Guards! Guards! Thieves! Thieves!" The trader cried.

Only two of the guards Daveth saw earlier were still around, one moaned loudly and just stood there looking at them, the other broke into a sprint straight at them, the trader grinned as he watched the guard rapidly approaching. Daveth bolted, he could hear his three bigs following closely, They ran into an alleyway and turned right, there was a pile of dung and a makeshift stable with no horses, it was a dead end. Daveth motioned all of his bigs to run to the very end, they obeyed. Standing in front of a stone wall smeared with shit, they looked up, pretending to frantically look for a way to climb up. Daveth pressed his back to the side of the alley in a little dark space. He saw the guard run past him and heard him stop a few feet away, Daveth stepped out from his hiding place and walked up behind him, approaching quietly, with one of his

daggers drawn he heard the guard say. "Hey, where'd the other one go?" Daveth slit the guard's throat from ear to ear, the man dropped to his knees gurgling. Turning around and looking at Daveth with sad eyes, Daveth felt a pang of guilt, here was one of few guards with the integrity to do his job without immediate reward, and all he got for his service was an open throat. "Come on!" Daveth yelled to his bigs. They darted towards him and he came to the adjoining alley from earlier, the other guard was walking towards him and his bigs at a relaxed pace. Not caring that they were now in sight.

He led his bigs down the maze of alleys until he was sure the lazy guard wouldn't find them. He walked out onto the nearest street and could see an ugly building with bamboo piled on top, it looked like it was about to collapse into itself. He walked down the nearest alley that he thought would take him to it, he saw a Little posted to keep watch, it was Mouse. Excitement filled Mouse's eyes right before confusion overwhelmed it. Daveth put a finger to his lips as he walked up, he could hear somebody talking. He and his gang stood at a corner next to Mouse, listening to the voice in the adjoining alley in front of the building that looked as though it would collapse at any minute. He peeked his left eye around the corner and saw a grown fat urchin about to kick a Ladesian boy that was on the ground. "Eight puke." He heard the fatass say to a boy with his palms out. "Eight?" The younger boy said with a tone of confusion. "You gotta pay for Doll Girl, too." Daveth ignored the dispute for a moment and turned to mouse, crouching down. "Who's that?" Daveth asked Mouse in a hushed tone. "Rat." Came the quiet reply.

"I know who fatass is. Who's the little one?"

"Ohhh. Azoth." Mouse squeaked out. Daveth heard thunderous laughter and peeked around the corner again. He saw the boy spit on Rat's face, "Go bugger yourself Ratty Fatty!" Daveth choked back a laugh, he looked back at his band and saw they heard it and were grinning and on the verge of laughter. Daveth peeked a third time, He saw bigs and littles alike looking like they were about to shit themselves from the sheer shock. He saw Rat punch the kid in the face so hard the boy's head bounced

off the ground. Then he saw Ja'laliel come out of the building, "Rat! Rat, I need you now!" The sickly guild head coughed, "Rat, I said now." He saw Ratty Fatty spit on Azoth, who didn't even notice. Then wipe his rodent mouth, and Daveth saw

the fat fuck smile at big balled "Azoth," then he turned and walked away. Daveth assumed he had missed the dues collection, either that or it was postponed, in either case the Bigs in the little army of guild rats might discover his band and attack them. He patted Mouse on the head and walked back out onto the street, they waited on the opposite side of the street to watch the Dragons leave, of course the way they came wasn't the only alley the Black Dragons could come and go from, but he didn't care.

He saw Scrawler and another Little leave first, then a trio of Bigs, they saw Daveth and his Bigs and suddenly got grim looks. One of them turned and called out something into the alley. Rat pushed past them, a wry grin forming, Daveth hated seeing the Dragon fist smile. Rat motioned for the trio to follow him and approached Daveth.

"Well, well, Two Fists on my turf? What's the matter? They couldn't get both fists into your asses so you boys decided to try and join me and mine?" Rat laughed at his own question and his trio joined in.

"One of yours?" Daveth asked incredulously,

"One of your what Rat? One of your pretty boys? Ja'laliel runs the Black Dragons, not you." That only made Rat smile even harder.

"Ja'laliel will be dead soon, if you give me your black outfit you can join my pretty boys, you're pretty enough for me, I haven't added anyone older than me to my collection yet. So clean for a street urchin, you don't even look like one." Rat said as he eyed Daveth up and down.

"We'd look alike if you spent a little less money on cheese and a little more on clothes, Ratty Fatty." Now it was Daveth who laughed and his bigs who joined him. Rat's smile faded instantly and he practically turned red. "I'll fuck you bloody you shit." Rat pulled a shiv from the back of his pants and suddenly both Daveth's and Rat's bigs brandished makeshift weapons. "Come on then." Daveth pulled out his twin daggers and rubbed the flats of his blades together as though he was about to carve a turkey, he held them up in a combat stance, his right hand holding a dagger near his waist ready to thrust and his offhand holding a dagger parallel to his shoulders ready to parry any incoming blades. Even though they were daggers the size of them dwarfed all the shivs that had been pulled out. Rat sunk back, though he didn't seem like he was anywhere near backing down. Daveth broke the tension by speaking...

"Alright, alright, we'll leave. I just wanted to see how my favorite rodent was doing." Though he had said it with sarcasm Rat gave a flirtatious grin as everyone lowered their weapons.

"You're always welcome to join my pretty boys Daveth."

"Pass." Daveth said as he sheathed his daggers and everyone tucked away their weapons.

"You tease." Rat laughed, but this time his bigs didn't join in. Daveth spat on the ground in front of the Black Dragons, Rat spat directly into Daveth's face.

"You shit." Daveth yelled as he pulled out one dagger and pointed it at Rat. Daveth spat back into Rat's face but Rat made a face of satisfaction.

"Mmmm." That made Daveth's stomach churn, he started stepping away from them with his blade still pointed at Rat. When they had some distance between them Rat was the one who broke the tension.

"Bye, bye, Daveth. Come back anytime." Daveth sheathed his dagger and wiped his face with his sleeve. He saw Azoth finally come out of the alleyway. Azoth paused as he looked at Rat and his Bigs passing him. Running off before Rat spotted him. Daveth

intended to follow the boy but the kid was smart, he ran into some tall crowds and ducked down. When the crowd passed Daveth and his Bigs Daveth realized he was already gone. Azoth had ducked into an alleyway that the crowd passed while

Daveth was focusing on them. Daveth at least knew which direction the boy might've been heading so he walked in the direction Azoth had been going and walked for a

few blocks. He saw other Black Dragon Littles and a pair of scowling Bigs. Almost an hour went by and Leo started to complain that they shouldn't be on Black Dragon turf much longer. They'd wandered six blocks from the confrontation and still saw no sign of Azoth. Daveth started to wonder if the kid was even worth talking to. As smart as he seemed to be at evading rival guild members, he wasn't smart enough not to insult his own guild fist. Too bold for his own good. Daveth's stomach growled and he managed to smell food over the awful mixture of shit, animal guts and a leather tanners workshop. He wandered to the smell of baking bread and finally saw the boy. He was sitting with the Ladesian boy from earlier and a small blonde girl he had seen before. He saw Azoth tucking something away in his tunic before running off. The Ladesian boy saw Daveth watching them and whispered something in the blonde girl's ear while maintaining eye contact. The girl met Daveth's eyes and the two Littles bolted in the opposite direction of Azoth.

Daveth scowled, all this time looking for the Little, risking a guild fight and trespassing on a rival guilds territory and all he had to show for it was watching two Littles running away from him.

"Shit." Daveth said aloud.

"Let's just go..." Leo whined again.

"Fine, we're leaving." Daveth said with a clear tone of anger.

"No, you're not." Came a voice behind the other Two Fists.

Daveth turned to face the familiar voice at the same time as his Two Fists. Rat casually strolled up with more than seven Bigs in tow.

"You're in it now Dav, you don't taunt a Dragon without getting burned." Rat chuckled with a hideous smile.

"Fuck off rodent, we're not even earning on your turf."

"Well then, I should know why you're here, Dav."

"We were looking for Azoth. The one that called you Ratty Fatty."

Rat's face flashed with anger "Azoth-"

"That's him! Get him!" Came a shout from the other side of the road. Two Fists and Black Dragons all frantically looked to the right to see a band of guards pointing at Daveth before leveling spears and halberds or unsheathing their swords and charging towards him.

"Run!" Daveth yelled. The guild rats all scattered in different directions,some Dragons and Fists pushing past each other to flee. Daveth ran in the same direction as the two littles from earlier, ducking into an alleyway while hearing the clattering of ill fitting armor right behind him, he came to the intersection of alleyways and darted left and did so again at the next intersection, back on the street he tried to think of a familiar area he could lose them. He ran across the street into another alley, and kept running deeper and deeper into Dragon turf, he could hear the clattering getting more distant every time he passed a road and darted into the next alleyway. He came to a dead end just as he had before, a hideous derelict building stood in front of him, like something out of a scary children's tale it was two stories high with shutters practically falling out of the windows and a door taken off it's hinges and placed beside the doorway, Daveth darted inside and looked to see if there was a trap door or loose floorboards, he tugged on a few boards with mismatched color only to find his hands bleeding and caked with dust. He resolved to hide under the stairs, tucking himself into the dark crawlspace and bringing his knees to his chest. He felt a tug on his right arm as he heard armor clattering from outside. He froze, he looked at his right arm expecting to see a wolf spider, instead he saw the silhouette of a small hand.

"This way." He heard the familiar voice squeak out.

"Mouse?" Daveth asked with a hushed voice.

"Yes, come on." The little squeaker ordered.

Daveth could now make out a small hole in the wall that the hand was coming from, likely leading into an adjoining building. He squeezed through the tiny space, barely making it through even with Mouse's little hands helping to pull him through. He felt a familiar tug on his arm in the darkness and walked towards it, the tug led him in various directions before he saw any light. Mouse led him on, Daveth eventually stepped into the light and realized it was an old collapsed warehouse. Daveth saw another little in the large doorway leading outside, a Little that he didn't recognize.

"Who's that?" Daveth asked Mouse.

"This is Roach. He was in the alley when you caught me and Scrawler, he ran away before your bigs grabbed him."

"Roach... A fitting name."

Roach had a quizzical smile unsure of whether or not to take that as a compliment. Daveth heard a very distant voice through a giant hole in the roof.

"He can't have gotten far! Keep looking!"

Daveth bolted towards the big doorway and heard Mouse call out to him.

"Wait! Don't I get a reward!?"

Daveth stopped and turned to answer him "Reward?" Daveth scoffed,

"You forget? I'm still a guild thief too!"

Daveth ran and didn't stop until he was outside the alley that led to his abandoned store. Chest pounding and sweating like a pig, he stumbled down the alley; he could hear people talking. He fell into his store just past the doorway, all his Bigs looked at him, even the ones that had been with him when the guards started chasing him were present. "Dav?" Leo said with a tone of concern. Daveth looked at his group of Bigs and saw their concerned faces, he met their gazes for a minute, then everything suddenly faded to black.

Daveth snapped out of his memories and continued walking down a seemingly endless alley for hours, then he saw a pile of manure and a makeshift stable, suddenly Leo, Tit and Tat sprung up from the ground, frantically looking at the wall for a way to climb up.

"What are you doing?" Daveth asked.

They all turned, eyes wide. Daveth felt a strange sensation on his neck, a tingle, then his neck was warm, and his breath was gone, he put his hands to his throat and could feel them coated with a sticky warmth. he pulled his hands away and saw they were coated with blood. He turned around and saw a familiar face, a face he didn't have a name for, one that he had only seen once. He dropped to his knees and his gaze was on the man's waist, an empty sheath and a sheathed dagger were attached to a sword belt. His clothes were all black. Daveth looked up, and the man's face had changed, suddenly the face he saw was his own.

"Wake up!" He heard a gruff voice command, he felt two large hands squeezing his arms and shaking him. He awoke from his dream and saw Ulric's rugged face. "You've been sleeping too long. A guild meet is today, boy." Ulric had a look of mild anger.

"What's this I hear about guards chasing you?" Ulric asked with his expression getting more and more angry.

"And where in the sodding hell did you get this ridiculous outfit?" Ulric broke off, waiting for an answer.

Daveth shuddered and opened his mouth to speak but Ulric cut him off.

"I already know where you got it, now get the fuck up." Ulric commanded.

Daveth stood, looking around to see his troop of Bigs behind him, he was in his usual spot, the center of his store standing in front of his chair. Ulric stomped outside and Daveth followed, as did his Bigs. Leo walked up behind him and started speaking in a hushed tone.

"You were out for a while, a half a day and the whole night."

Daveth wasn't sure what to say, and thought it best not to say anything since Ulric was right in front of him.

"Ulric showed up and started asking me what went on yesterday and the night before, I told him you went out, and when the guards chased you. I didn't tell him that you..." Leo trailed off, mulling something over in his head.

"He doesn't know about what you did, why they were chasing you that other time. But the guards went looking for you, a lot more than usual in the warrens, now all the guild heads wanna know why there's so many, Ulric thought it has something to do with Red Hand or Burning man, until he saw you wearing all that new stuff, and asked the brothers where you got it."

Daveth's mind was racing, he had never been this scared for a long time, people turn up dead in the warrens all the time. But guards don't turn up dead since most are paid off by the Sa'Kage. The shadowy group that's rumored to run the whole kingdom with mountains of gold and bribery that includes every commoner and lower noble in any kind of important position.

Daveth was so lost in his thoughts he had been mindlessly trailing behind Ulric the entire walk, when Ulric stopped Daveth bumped right into him, mad as Ulric was that was possibly the worse thing Daveth could've done. Ulric turned and picked Daveth up by the collar of his gambeson.

"What is wrong with you boy!?" He shouted.

"S-sorry Ulric."

"Sorry!? You're not gonna say something clever? Go on, say something clever boy, come on boy, test me."

Daveth said nothing, his face going blank. Without another word Ulric dropped him. Daveth motioned for the Bigs to stay. Then he looked around at the smirks and strange looks of Burned Men, Black Dragons, Red Hands and Rusty Knives, all of them were looking straight at him in bands of four, all lined up by guild. Ulric went up the steps into the tavern, Daveth followed without a word. When Daveth stepped through the door he froze up, blood stains marked three parts of the floor. It was the same tavern he found all the corpses in. The guild heads all sat at a table with their guild fists behind them. Ulric sat down and motioned with his hand. Daveth saw Fendrel shoot him a scornful look, he looked fierce with his burnt face, red hair, brown eyes and prominent features, he always sat beside Red Hand's leader, Rolfe; his right hand was red with a massive burn scar, it looked like it had been dipped in a pot of hot oil, he had black hair and blue eyes, he was good looking but his hand was very off putting to anyone that saw it. Ja'laliel was coughing into a cloth, he looked more gaunt then the last time Daveth had seen him, his black hair had fallen out in some places and his small green eyes looked like they'd shrunk inward. Gutter was there with his maniacal grin, of course playing with a rusty knife to live up to his guild name. He was bald, brown eyed, and very, very, ugly. The other guild fists had pushed past Daveth while he had been standing in the doorway, staring. Ulric shot Daveth an angry look before pointing out the door, Daveth stepped back outside.

An hour had rolled by with tension in the air, some of the guild rats had intermixed and talked about any events that wouldn't hurt them if rivals knew about it. All the Two Fists stood silently as they had been taught while the other guild rats talked quietly with each other or among themselves. Finally the guild leaders filed out, Rolfe and Fendrel gave each other a grin and walked off without a word, their guild rats filing after them. Ja'laliel and Gutter traded back handed compliments, Gutter said he'd drink to Ja'laliel's health before looking at Ulric as he came out last. Ja'laliel and Gutter both stared at Ulric, whether it was fear or hate neither of them showed it. Then they walked away. Ulric motioned Daveth into the Tavern as he headed back inside. Daveth wasn't sure what to make of that. Suddenly Ulric flipped a table and smashed a chair. The tavern keeper didn't care, ignoring it as though it was a normal occurrence.

"Damn it boy!" Ulric screamed at Daveth, his face full of rage was suddenly full of concern, Ulric smashed another chair and his face was red with rage again.

"Damn Dragons!" Ulric shouted before grabbing Daveth's collar and throwing him back outside. It was the first time Ulric had acted this way, gone was the imposing man that just had a commanding presence without a word. Replaced by a brute of a man content with bullying a seventeen year old slaveborn. Daveth landed flat on his back outside. He saw his bigs rushing over to help him up, Daveth held up his hand, motioning for them to stop. Ulric calmly walked down the steps and past Daveth. "Come." He said quietly. Daveth staggered up and followed Ulric. His Bigs in tow, shooting each other confused looks. They walked in sullen silence all the way back to the store, Ulric stopped just under the overhang. He looked at Daveth before barking. "You are not to leave until I return tomorrow night." Then Ulric turned and headed back towards the street.

Puzzled, Daveth sat back in his chair, not saying anything to the bigs. Time went by and Tit and Tat offered to guard the store. Everyone else left to find something worth stealing. Daveth sat in his chair staring out the door or window as daylight slowly died. Before long everyone started filing in for the night. Daveth stood, then knelt down and lifted a floorboard and reached in, checking to make sure the weapons from the tavern were still there. Tit and Tat just watched. A fighting axe, a longsword, a rusted sabre and four rusty short swords were all stockpiled underneath the floorboards. Daveth set the board back in its place and sat back in his chair. He watched the Littles file in and pile behind the counter or in the corner, his Bigs came in and took up their usual spots of sitting on the counter and leaning against each other. More hours rolled by, Daveth started fading in and out of consciousness while watching Tit and Tat guard the door. When sleep finally came Daveth felt a sense of foreboding.

He walked down the familiar alleyway for hours expecting to see his bigs at the end. Instead he came to a door. He pushed it open before closing it behind him and saw a lanky hooded man in the back of the familiar tavern. He walked toward the man who pulled his hood back and took a sip of ale. Daveth studied the stranger's pockmarked face, with his blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, he looked like an average man. But when Daveth stood in front of him his heart sank into his stomach. The lanky man was the wetboy Durzo Blint. A wetboy was an assassin who could use magic, and applied it to their deadly trade. Among wetboys, Durzo Blint was indisputably the best. Daveth realized he was staring right at him, he opened his mouth to speak but Durzo interrupted.

"How could you abandon me now? After all the years I've served you. Is it because of Vonda?" Daveth was lost, he wasn't sure what Durzo meant.

"Durzo Blint, you never fail to surprise." He heard someone call from above. Daveth suddenly felt someone drop into him from the ceiling, and yet he didn't fall over, didn't feel pain and he couldn't move. Then when he raised his hand to wipe his face he realized his actions weren't his own. Daveth drew one of his daggers and then he spoke.

"Hey, I'm all for calling a bluff, but you should have seen Vonda when she figured out you weren't going to save her. Made me damn near bawl my eyes out."

"I killed six men tonight, you sure you want to make it seven?"

What the fuck am I doing? Daveth thought to himself. This man is fucking death, why am I saying this, why am I doing this? Daveth was panicking and fighting his own involuntary movements before opening his mouth to speak again.

"Blint, you'll be lucky if you don't cut your head off after all you've been drinking. Just in the time I've been watching, you've had?"

"Eight flagons. And I had four before that, I could kill you all the same."

"You're bluffing," Daveth said, but the confidence in his voice had turned to fear.

"I don't bluff," Durzo Blint said. "Why don't you invite your friends in?"

Daveth brought two fingers up to his lips and whistled. There were yells as the front and back doors burst open. Daveth could hear the men closing in behind him while drawing their weapons. Durzo suddenly turned into a smoky silhouette and a gray flash covered his vision, then everything went white, Daveth knelt and put his hand to his face expecting to feel blood, he pulled his hand away hearing yelling, screams, and gurgles, he tried to look at his hand and only saw white. He heard a few clangs from weapons clashing, then the yelling and screaming suddenly stopped. He struggled to hear anything at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them he was on the other side of the inn, he stood and looked around. In front of him were five corpses, he started walking towards the same table where Durzo had been sitting, he stepped past the corpses until he saw his own corpse, laying in front of the table flat on its back. Not a drop of blood anywhere near it, eyes glazed over in death.

"Bad dreams?" He heard Ulric say from behind him, Daveth turned and Ulric kicked him in the chest. Daveth's eyes cracked open, pulling him from his nightmare. He tumbled off his chair and onto his back whilst gasping for air. He heard footsteps of people filing in.

"A deal's a deal." He heard Ulric say. Daveth struggled to look around, he realized the store was empty except for five people in the front, it was all five guild heads.

"No wonder he thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants. You've spoiled him Ulric." Daveth looked up to see it was Gutter talking with his maniacal smile across his face and rusty blade in hand.

"Take him outside." He heard Fendrel say. Fendrel's fist and Rat pushed past the guild heads and kicked Daveth while he was down before dragging him out the door. Daveth looked around frantically while wincing in pain as he was dragged outside, he was tossed in the same intersection of alleys that drunks stumbled through. A crowd of guild rats from every guild surrounding him.

"Do it then." Ulric commanded. Rat grinned and kicked Daveth again before pulling one of Daveth's daggers from Daveth's belt.

"Hold him down." Rat ordered. Daveth heard steps in the muck, he pulled out his other dagger and started cutting wildly in all directions. Someone clubbed him and he dropped to the ground again, dagger still in hand, someone grabbed his knife arm and Daveth thrusted towards them out of reflex, Daveth heard screaming before he was clubbed again. Someone wrenched the dagger out of his hand this time and he was flipped over and held down.

"Now to practice, my debut is coming up soon." Daveth screamed as he felt the tip of his dagger carving his face just deep enough to leave a scar, the blade slowly running from the corner of his right eye to the right corner of his mouth, then an X being carved into his left cheek.

"I hear you wanna be just like Ulric; Dav, here let me help." Rat said with glee while cutting at Daveth's right sleeve, making sure the blade cut at Daveth's shoulder through the gambeson. Ripping off the sleeve, Rat dragged the point of the dagger on Daveth's bicep, imitating Ulric's scar.

"I hear you brag about your kill count too! Here let me help you keep track, six was it?" Daveth winced in pain as he could feel the blade carving his bicep some more, this time forming a tally count of six.

"Well I'm done. I guess now we start the beating?" Rat asked rhetorically. Daveth could hear at least twenty people stepping towards him in the muck before suddenly fists and feet were pounding into him from all directions. He screamed in pain until he could barely breathe. Fading in and out of consciousness he could feel two people lift him up by his arms and drag him. His right arm burning with pain as he was dragged, he was suddenly dropped and he heard a woman's laughter. His obstructed vision fading in and out from his blackened eyes he could barely make out the face. It was the prostitute he had spurned a few nights earlier. He saw another silhouette beside her before feeling bliss as he finally blacked out.

He awoke on a wooden floor, a dirty blanket covering him. He was only wearing his padded black trousers, he tried to move and his body sent pangs of agonizing pain. He looked around and saw he was in an ugly bedroom, plaster walls stained yellow with age and a small bed in the corner. Daveth tried to speak and choked out some loud wheezes and coughs. He heard a chair being moved in the other room, followed by footsteps before a man came into view, walking through the doorway and standing over him, he was ugly, with crooked teeth, a crooked nose and a shaved head, his eyes were brown and he had thick eyebrows and a stubble.

"So you didn't die." The bald man brought up a flagon in his right hand and chugged it down, he sighed before speaking again.

"Those urchins dumped you out on the street after they finished beating and cutting you." Daveth coughed and wheezed, choking out words this time.

"Why- die." The bald man raised an eyebrow with a quizzical look on his face.

"Why didn't I let you die?" Daveth gave a small nod.

"I figured you'd make good money for me if you lived. But I'm not playing wet nurse, boy. I'll give you food, drink, and let you stay here, but I will not take care of you. Got it?" Daveth wheezed again before forcing out more words.

"Pay- help." The old man chuckled.

"You'll pay for help?" Daveth gave another small nod, wincing in pain as he did. The bald man chuckled even harder.

"You actually have money?" Daveth nodded again.

"If you bring me whatever you have maybe I'll pay a girl from the brothel to take care of you, if it's not enough or you have extra I'm just going to keep it." The bald man turned to leave and stopped at the doorway.

"My name is Carac, use it, don't call me 'Da' or 'Old man' or anything of the sort, you're not my adopted son or anything of the like, more like... My pet shit or something." Carac laughed at his own joke and went back into the other room, Daveth heard a chair being moved before blacking out.

Daveth's eyes slowly opened, he felt much more groggy then when he had spoken with Carac and assumed a day or two must've passed. He groaned and wheezed as he sat up, looking around. He saw a bowl and some moldy bread to his right, he reached for it with his right hand before screaming in pain. He looked down and could see his right arm was covered in bruises even through his puffy eyes, he looked for his cuts, and saw them surrounded big dark blotches of red and purple skin, they were deep, yet no muscle or fat could be seen, Daveth couldn't tell if they needed to be sutured or not, he looked at the floor and noticed big cloths where his arm had been, Carac wasn't exaggerating in the slightest, he had pulled Daveth off the street, dropped him in his bedroom, stripped him and stuffed cloth under him, not to help his cuts, but to stop him from bleeding onto the floor. Daveth picked up one of the bloody bolts of cloth and tore it, grimacing at the pain, then grunting at the pain grimacing caused him. He wrapped the makeshift bandage around his right arm, from his shoulder to his elbow. Tying off the excess cloth so the makeshift bandage stayed tight. Daveth picked up the moldy bread, slowly taking a large bite and chewing, the pain was excruciating as he struggled to chew, when he finally swallowed the bread he brought his left hand to his face, tenderly touching the cuts on his face. He let out a yelp as he touched the scar going from his mouth to his eye. He took another large bite to try and finish the bread all at once, chewing large chunks despite the horrible amount of pain it brought him, The faster I eat the sooner the pain is over. Daveth thought to himself. He chugged the contents of the bowl, not sure if it was ale or very dirty water.

He gripped his right side with his left hand before staggering to his feet. Daveth limped around the room, looking for his boots and torn gambeson despite his puffy eyes. He stepped into the other room and saw a small table with a few old wooden chairs by it, three empty flagons sitting on the table. There was a small tapped barrel in the corner of the room, a shelf hanging over it with more bread and small barrels on it, like the bedroom the plaster walls were yellow with age, with dirt stains appearing more frequently as the walls got closer to the door. Daveth saw his boots sitting on top of his gambeson, next to the door, the gambeson was caked with mud, likely from the beating, and also since Carac had decided to toss his muddy boots on top of it. Daveth slowly sat down by the door, grunting in pain. He slipped on his left boot slowly, grunting as if it took him all his strength, when he slipped on his right boot he grimaced at the pain his right arm brought him. He slowly slipped on his gambeson, fastening the filthy leather straps before staggering to his feet, he pushed the door but it didn't budge. Daveth saw a large lock just above the misshapen handle. Turning it he realized there was key stuck in it on his side of the door, pulling it out and pushing the door open, it creaked as Daveth stepped out into the alleyway, looking up at the night sky. Daveth shut and locked the door before stepping off towards the nearest street. He noticed there weren't any other doors on the big building he had come out of. Stepping out onto the street he saw the building sign, "The Black Lily" with a black painting of a woman laying down nude just under the words. Daveth was sure he was still in Two Fist territory, if only at the very outskirts. He walked off trying to find a more familiar area.

He passed several buildings before finding his way to his old store. He limped onward as he finally saw the familiar prostitute and her hooded bodyguard. He stepped into a large puddle and the bodyguard's head snapped towards his direction. The hooded man scoffed before slowly turning his head back to the woman standing near him. Daveth came to the alley, and leaned out slightly to see if there was a guard. He saw the sign had been ripped off of it's post and was placed under the overhang. Daveth didn't see or hear anyone in the alley and limped toward it, when he finally stood over the overhang he stopped before stepping into the doorway, listening for whispering or snoring. He heard nothing but wind coming through the alley and stepped into the doorway. Many of the floorboards had been ripped up and the counter was smashed. He went to the corner of the room and knelt down onto the now dirt floor, reaching his hand into a hole at the base of the wall, he felt the rough sackcloth with the tip of his fingers and stuck his arm in deeper before wrenching it out. He heard the jingle of coins in the bag and smiled, before grunting at the pain smiling brought him. He stuffed the small sack half way down his trousers and tucked his gambeson over it. Staggering to his feet he looked at the wall behind him and saw blood. He looked at the aged spatter for a moment wondering who's blood it was. He scanned the derelict store wondering if anything else was stashed, then remembered his stashed weapons should be under the leftover floorboards. He limped over to the leftover floorboards and knelt down again, sticking his hand under the floorboards hoping a rusty blade didn't cut him, he couldn't feel any handles and assumed they must've been looted, as he pulled his hand out he felt something cut him, realizing hoping hadn't done him any good he pulled out the object by the blade. He was surprised to see one of the short swords in his hand, there were four of them stashed here and he had the third best one, it was raw iron, with a small curved iron guard, worn leather handle and round pommel. Daveth could see rust on the flat of the blade despite the darkness. Not the worst. He thought to himself before staggering to his feet. He knew he was in absolutely no shape to fight, but at least he could push past the pain and stand up straight, brandish the sword and try to look intimidating. He slid the sword through his gambeson belt and walked out the door, looking at the sign he realized someone had flayed off the wood so they could carve a new message.

The sign read "Guttershite's abode, enemies of every guild welcome." Daveth instinctively ducked down and scanned the alleyway, expecting to see someone watching him. Daveth eased up after a few minutes had passed with not so much as a rat moving through the alley. Daveth nearly kicked himself for his paranoia. He had expected someone to spring out from the alley and paint the store walls with his blood.They're urchins and beggars, just like me, not manhunters. He limped towards the street as he wrestled with his other thoughts. It felt like an eternity before he found his way back to Carac's part of the brothel. Jamming the key in and shoving the door open before slamming it behind him, he stuffed the key back in the lock and put the shortsword beside the door before stripping off his gambeson. He limped back to the other room and collapsed where he had woken, pulling the sack from his trousers and placing it beside him, he was back asleep in minutes. His rest was quickly interrupted as he heard someone practically dive through the door, he heard heavy footfalls nearing the doorway before a hooded man stepped into view, pulling down his hood. Carac gave Daveth an unsettling smile with his crooked teeth.

"I saw you outside, is this the money?" Carac scooped up the sack with his left hand, keeping his right arm tucked behind his back, he let the sack hang open in his hand and peered inside. "This is plenty, even extra for me!" Carac moved his right arm into view and brandished Daveth's rusty shortsword, he stepped closer so that he was standing over Daveth, bringing the sword up for a downward thrust into Daveth's chest, Carac smiled even wider.

"Now to kill you and just keep the money." Daveth didn't move, just kept wheezing and staring. He was scared, but at the same time he didn't care, he hadn't lived a good life and didn't see himself turning his life around with a carved up arm and face. Carac snickered.

"I'm just kiddin, you ought to be happier, boy, you've more of a home on my floor then you did in that empty store." Daveth just wheezed and coughed in reply.

"I'll see about hiring one of the girls to take care of you, I'm sure more than a few have mended broken men before." Carac walked back into the other room with the sword and sack, Daveth heard the sword clatter onto the wooden table and a loud thump followed by the jingle of money. He closed his eyes and hoped Carac wasn't a loud drunk, in moments, he was asleep again.

Daveth felt a sharp pain in his left cheek and woke up with a shriek, he put his left hand to his face and looked around. A young girl with red hair met his frantic gaze. Her eyes were blue, she had a big nose and mouth, she looked plain, but younger than Daveth. She was sitting beside him with a guilty look on her face.
"What the fuck, girl." Daveth heard Carac say from the doorway.
"I gave you half of the coin to help him, not finger his face cuts until he screams."
"I was just checking how deep they were!" Her voice was soft even when yelling.
"Wait… Half?" She said before giving Carac a stern look.
"Don't look at me like that, you haven't even done much for him, at this rate you're gonna just assume he needs his cock sucked." Carac said with a snicker.

"Fuck you, he's awake now and not screaming so go away, back to your drinking." The girl made wild gestures with her hands while her face was red with anger. Carac stopped leaning on the doorway and stumbled back into the other room. Daveth undid his bandages and looked at his right arm and saw his cuts had been sewn up.
"The ones on your face-" The girl said.
"They don't need to be sewn up, whoever did that; they just… Wanted you to have scars." Daveth put his left hand on his left cheek, he could feel the cuts were already better. Just too tender to have a finger prodding them. Daveth inhaled deeply and let out a sharp exhale. Not wheezing anymore.
"How long-" Daveth said, while rolling his jaw. The pain is not as bad, now.

"How long was I asleep this time?" Daveth finished.
"A couple days." The girl said dismissively.

"You're a pretty heavy sleeper." She remarked.
"Yes, beating and maiming do that." Daveth said with an angry voice.
"Sorry… Carac- told me about what happened, well; as much as he knew. He said you didn't tell him anything." She looked away as she spoke. Daveth couldn't tell if she was pitying him or trying to avoid looking at his ugly mutilated face, or both.

"Why did your gang throw you out?" She asked meekly. Daveth looked at his right hand, rolling his wrist before looking at his arm and flexing it, he expected sharp pain, but felt only a little discomfort, his bruises weren't as dark anymore. Daveth thought back to the gurgling guard, blood pouring from his throat and mouth.

"It doesn't matter." He replied.

"They did a lot more than just throw me out." Daveth thought back to Ulric's guilty look after the guild meet. Ulric had been a better father figure than his new and much drunker one. Teaching him to read and say some fancy words. And then he betrayed me. Daveth wished he had tailed Ulric at some point, seen where he went when he wasn't telling everyone what to do and where to steal from.
"What is your name?" Daveth asked while avoiding eye contact.
"Thea." Came the meek reply.

"And you-"

"You work at the Lily?" He asked, trying to be tactful.
Thea nodded, Daveth thought he had done a good job of keeping the question respectful instead of blurting out, "AND YOU'RE A WHORE, THEA?" But he could tell by her expression the question still hurt her.

"I- I need rest." Daveth said to break the tension.
"Oh, of course." Thea stood, gathering up Daveth's bloody bandages, and a bowl of bloody water. Daveth glanced at his new bandages, realizing she'd changed them.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Thea stated before walking into the other room, Daveth heard the door unlock before creaking and slamming. He heard a chair move followed by the locking sound and heavy footfalls. Carac stepped into the doorway again, leaning on the frame.

"What the fuck, boy? Not even a kiss?" Carac asked with a huge grin.
"Yeah, well, my face hurts." Carac cackled at Daveth's reply.

"She said she'd keep coming back for a month if need be." Carac took a sip of ale.
"She seems to like you." Carac said while swaying his head a little.
"How could you tell?" Daveth asked while rolling his right shoulder.

"She asked about you. If she didn't like you she wouldn't have given a fuck about your stupid gang. Did she look sad?"
"Sad?" Daveth said, looking at Carac and waiting for him to elaborate.
"Yeah! Sad! What the fuck is hard for you? Did she look sad when you asked if she was a whore?" Daveth scowled. And Carac scoffed, taking his scowl as an answer.
"See? She likes you. Least you better hope she does, with that face you'll probably be bedding whores for the rest of your life, boy." Carac cackled again and went back into the other room. Daveth stretched and looked around for food.
"Get in here!" Carac yelled from the other room.
Daveth stood, limping through the doorway, Daveth met Carac's gaze as he walked over and sat down at the table with him. He saw more moldy bread and a dirty flagon that was full. Daveth's stomach grumbled loudly and Carac laughed in reply.

"Eat, boy." Carac ordered.
Daveth picked up the bread and picked off the mold before taking a bite. His face still hurt as he chewed, but he ignored it and took big bites, trying to finish the bread before he could taste it. He downed the flagon and let out a deep exhale.
Carac stared for a moment before speaking.
"Once your cuts heal you start earning." He said sternly.
"You want me to get bags for you?" Daveth asked.
"Bags? Is that what you call em? Cut purses?" Carac replied with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, you want me to steal for you?"
"No, boy. You're going to work at the Lily."
"Fuck that." Daveth said, jumping to his feet.
Carac made a confused look before letting out his annoying cackle again.
"No, idiot. You're gonna work as a brothel basher."
"What the fuck is a brothel basher?"
"It's a- Gods, boy. How stupid can you be? It's a guard, you beat the shit out of deadbeats and patrons who get too rough with the girls." Carac shook his head at Daveth before taking another sip of ale.

"That's why I took you in to begin with, your ugly scars will make you look tough, tough enough to work at the Lily." Carac explained. Daveth looked away from Carac for a moment, Carac could tell Daveth was mulling something over in his head, he had an idea about what Daveth was gonna ask next.
"Would you have taken me in if I hadn't gotten cut up?" Daveth asked with a sad look.
"No." Carac said in a harsh voice.
"I already told you, boy. I didn't take you in out of pity. I'd seen you strutting around the Warrens with your two scaaaaaaary bodyguards. Sa'kage runs this city, you think your little band of stupid street urchins gave you any power, you think your dumb stolen black outfit made you different from them? You think you're special, boy?"
Daveth fell back into the wooden chair. Shrinking into himself. The only things really special about me is some retired soldier taught me words, and a fat big cut me up. Carac stared at Daveth despite the drawn out silence, Carac was still expecting an answer, after Daveth didn't so much as look at him he figured maybe he had said too much, then pushed the thought out of his mind.
"Here." Carac said, breaking the tension and tossing a small coin purse onto the table with his free hand.

"You can have some of your coin back. Thea actually took less than half." Carac took another sip of ale. Daveth glanced at the coinpurse, still not reacting.
"Go to sleep then." Carac said, before facing the wall and drinking more ale.

Daveth stood, slowly grabbing the coin purse with his left hand before turning and slowly limping back into the bedroom. He laid down on his dirty blanket and put his head on the hard wooden floor. He stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an hour before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

He woke when he heard the door slam, still sluggish from sleep it took him a moment before he figured Carac had left for the day and slammed the door on his way out. He thought back to what Carac had said to him, the words still fresh in his mind as if they had just spoken a few minutes ago. He held up the small coin purse in front of his face. An ass, but still not as bad as he claims to be, especially for a bodyguard in the warrens. Daveth stood and walked into the other room, stopping in front of the door to see his gambeson and boots had been cleaned. Thank you Thea. Daveth sat down in front of the door, slipping his boots on before putting on his gambeson and fastening the leather straps. He stood and saw Carac had placed his sword beside the door again. He picked it up and slipped it through his gambeson belt. He turned the key and pulled it out of the lock, pushing the door open and stepping outside. He held his left hand in front of his face to cover his eyes from the sun's rays. Been a while since I've seen light out. Daveth shut the door behind him and locked it, tying the key to his gambeson belt with a stray string he pulled off his gambeson.

He walked toward the street, putting his hand down and letting his eyes adjust to the light. He stood on the busy street, watching the dirty laborers and poor traders walk by. He saw a few walk into the Black Lily with guilty faces. He looked up at the sky before he stepped off toward the bakery where he had seen Azoth. Daveth, pressed his left cheek and was surprised when he only felt a little discomfort. He had figured It had actually been a few weeks of lying on the floor almost comatose and stuffing moldy bread and cheap ale into his mouth. Daveth wondered how many nights had actually passed after he spoke with Carac. Only waking to piss, shit or stuff scraps of food into his mouth. I should thank Thea for doing so well. Daveth stepped off toward Black Dragon territory. Confident he could fend off anyone who tried to rob him. He looked at the people he passed differently. He use to just see them as people to steal from, now they were just people going about their day. He drifted into thought for a moment and bumped into someone. Rubbing his head he saw it was a guard.
"Watch where you're going guttershite." The guard said with a drawl.

"Hey." Said another guard who stopped beside them.
"Doesn't this one look like that killer?" The guard asked his partner.

"Hmmm. Aye." The lazy guard said with his drawl.
"What's yer trade?" The lazy guard asked.

"Caravan hand." Daveth replied in an instant.
The two guards eyed him up and down.
"That makes sense." Said the other guard, relaxing a bit.
"Aye, it's not him. The one that slit Borin's neck were young, and- eugh. Less ugly." The lazy guard said, while waving his hand dismissively.
"And he didn't have no gray hairs neither." The lazy guard finished. HE DIDN'T HAVE WHAT? Daveth put a hand to his head with a look of concern, and the two guards laughed in unison.
"Look! He believed you." Said the other guard through his laughter.
"HARR!" The lazy guard blurted before shoving Daveth aside and walking off with his partner. Daveth wondered if he had gotten lucky, if some hurt feelings were better than a crooked guard demanding a bribe or whatever a Cenarian guard does when they actually catch a criminal in the Warrens.

Daveth stepped off, thinking about the brief encounter. Rat had actually done him a favor after all. At the expense of his looks, lazy guards would now just assume he was a mercenary or caravaner. He had gotten away with murder. Again. Daveth thought. He came to the bakery at last and saw a girl sitting in front of the plaster building.

"It's you." Daveth said. The girl looked up and Daveth grimaced at her. She made a confused look, before frowning and looking away. Her face was a mess, purple with bruises and a cut running from the corner of her mouth to her eye, an X on her right cheek as well as on her lips. Looks just like mine. Daveth thought back to what Rat said when he carved up Daveth's face and realized it was her face he was practicing for. He must've liked the thought of his victim having trouble eating and decided to add the X on the lips just in case. He could still see the cuts even with her looking away. They were much deeper than his had been. Must've wanted her to die shortly after, yet here she is, a survivor, still drawing breath despite what that fat shit has done to her. What's more, she's smart, how many folks must've bought bread and taken pity on her before giving her a piece to eat? Daveth chuckled to himself, and decided he liked her. The girl looked up, tears streaming down her face. I'm so stupid.

"Oh no, It's not what you think girl." Daveth knelt down in front of her.

"Look. See? We're the same. I just- Rat did that to you didn't he?"
The girl's eyes went wide. And she nodded. He could see her eyes shift between his scars and his eyes. What was her name?
"Dollgirl? That's your name isn't it?" She nodded in reply.

"I wasn't laughing at you, you can see that now, right?" She nodded again.
Daveth stood, stepping into the bakery and opening his coin pouch.
"Fresh bread?" Daveth asked awkwardly.
A chubby middle aged man looked at him while stuffing dough into an oven.
"Sure, five coppers." He said while wiping the sweat from his brow with his arm.
Daveth placed it on the table at the front of the store. Assuming it was supposed to the poor baker's counter. The baker placed bread in front of Daveth, scooping up the coppers. "Thanks." Said the baker with a smile. Daveth stepped back outside and tore the bread in half. Handing one half to Dollgirl. She snatched it and started eating quickly, whining and wincing in pain. Daveth thought back to that first night. When he stuffed the moldy bread in his mouth and downed the ale. Eating must've been excruciating for her, he remembered when Carac held his sword over him, and how he thought death was somewhat of a small mercy. He considered himself a man grown, and even for him the experience was probably the worse he had in his life. For a girl half his years getting it worse than he did filled him with hate, he wanted to slit Rat's throat from ear to ear. There wouldn't be any guilt this time, I'd be doing the world a service, a young rapist would be dead, and everyone he knew would be better off.

Daveth wondered if he could actually follow through with murdering Rat, it wasn't a question of if he had the will, it was a question of if he could physically do it. It wasn't that long ago that he was dying on the side of the street, done in by his fellow beggars and thieves. Daveth snapped out of his thoughts and realized Dollgirl was done eating and just staring at him. I need to stop doing that. Daveth heard someone behind him and turned with his hand on his sword hilt. It was a Ladesian boy.
"Don't hurt her!" He cried.
"We'll leave right now!" He pleaded. Dollgirl stood up and ran over to the Ladesian child, she forced the boy to look her in the eyes, he calmed down after meeting her gaze.
"You- who are you?" The Ladesian boy asked.
"A friend." Daveth replied. The boy scoffed at the anwser.
"We have no friend in the warrens." Daveth did a mock scoff back.
"Well then I guess you do now." Daveth said, he held out the other piece of bread to the boy. Dollgirl tugged on the boy's arm, leading him towards Daveth. The boy still approached slowly. As if Daveth were a wolf or a lazy lion. The boy snatched the bread before sitting down and taking small quick bites.
"What is your name?" Daveth asked.
"Jarl." He replied with his mouth full.
"Are you a guild rat?" Daveth asked. Jarl stopped eating, Dollgirl sat down beside him. Jarl did a thousand yard stare, unsure how to answer.
"I guess I'm not anymore." Jarl finally said.
"Anymore?" Daveth looked at Jarl expectantly.
"There was a- a big fight in the Black Dragons." Jarl stopped, deep in thought before continuing.
"Azoth; he made his own guild after Rat… Took me from him. He had a quarter of our bigs and half the littles. Lizards, he called them. He lost, then the Lizards fell apart, that was when Rat hurt Dollgirl and Azoth… Azoth killed Rat, I saw Azoth walking away with Durzo Blint-" Durzo Blint. Daveth's mind flashed back to the dead man he robbed in the tavern.

"I haven't seen Azoth since." Jarl finished. Gods I was right, the little was something, he rebelled against his guild, killed his fist. He did what I only just now thought of doing. Daveth looked at the sad two, their moods having changed at the mention of Azoth.
"Can you- can you take care of us?" Jarl asked. The two looked at Daveth, their eyes pleading for help.
"No." Daveth said meekly. The two started to whimper.
"I can't… I can't... Take care of Dollgirl much longer… It's all too hard." Jarl started to sob, tears running down his face.
"Help her please. She won't survive on her own." Daveth's throat tightened, he felt like he was about to cry too.
"I- can't… " Daveth said before looking away.
Jarl kept crying for a few minutes before wiping his face.
"I'm sorry, that wasn't fair; we only just met you. You've been kinder than most." Jarl said. Daveth wanted to comfort the two children. Some three weeks ago he was the same. He wished he could take them in, help them like Carac had helped him. He wished he could have the luxury of doing a good deed and saying how he only did it for himself, that he was still a bastard despite doing it.

"I'll help Dollgirl. I don't have much money but I'll buy her food until it runs out." Daveth finally said.
"Thank you." Jarl replied while rubbing his eye.
"You'll have to figure something out, I know you're still little. But I can't take her in." Daveth finished.
"I will." Jarl said, meeting Daveth's gaze with resolve in his eyes. Daveth heard someone call out from his left and turned to see a trio approaching, wearing filthy tunics and cut sackcloths. Daveth saw they were eyeing Jarl. He stepped in front of the Ladesian boy. Staring them down with his hand still on his sword. The trio looked at each other, hesitating, one pointed at Jarl yet the other two patted him and motioned the other way. When they turned their backs to him, Daveth looked at Jarl.
"Why did he do that? They looked like they were here to kill you." Jarl did another thousand yard stare.
"That's how it is now. They kicked out everyone Rat touched from the Black Dragons. They called us buggers and Rat lovers." Jarl wiped his face again. Daveth was irritated, even when he was dead, Rat was still ruining lives.
"I have to go." Jarl said suddenly. Dollgirl tugged on Jarl's arm again.

"I'll try and come back soon." Dollgirl's grip slowly loosened until she dropped her arms and watched Jarl run off.
"I'll be back tomorrow girl." Daveth said, shifting his eyes from the disappearing Jarl to the mutilated girl. Dollgirl didn't grab his arm or make sad eyes at him. She scrunched up beside the building and nodded, staring at the ground and not moving. Daveth stepped off, concerned about the poor girl's sanity.

Weeks flew by, and Daveth wondered if he'd done Dollgirl a kindness or not, she would always take his food, never looking at him, never moving, only bringing the bread to her mouth and eating it. Daveth hoped that whenever Jarl checked on her she snapped out of her trance. That she would be the cute mute Jarl said she was when the trio of guild rats were still together. And yet one day at the end of the third week, she was simply gone. Daveth held out bread to her empty spot before even looking to see if she was still there. He hoped she hadn't been killed or worse. The charity actually made Daveth sad. Helping a broken girl every day just for her to disappear without him knowing if she was alright.

Daveth sat in a wooden chair facing the door, as Thea sat in the other chair beside him and changed the bandages on his arm for the last time. She touched the scars on his face and Daveth didn't react, didn't make eye contact.
"What's eating you?" She asked to break the tension.
"It's- It's nothing." Daveth replied.
"Nothing?" Thea forced a smile.
"You haven't said a word to me today. Aren't you happy to see me?" She asked with enthusiasm.
"So happy." Daveth said with sarcasm.
Unamused, Thea pinched his right forearm with a grin. Daveth grimaced at her.
"Well you've healed up nicely. I think this might be my last visit. Anything you want to say to me?" She asked, with an expectant tone.
"You are my sun, my stars, the flower of my garden, my one- true love." Daveth said with another sarcastic tone.
"No, stupid." Thea pinched his arm again. Daveth winced.
"Thank you for all you've done for me." Daveth finally said.

Suddenly someone pounded on the door, and Thea stood, walked over and opened it.
Carac pushed past her and stood in front of Daveth.
"Stand up boy, let's have a look at you." Daveth stood and Carac eyed him up and down.
"Show me your scowl." Carac ordered. Daveth bared his teeth in an extremely awkward smile. Thea laughed from behind Carac. Carac shot her a stern look and slapped Daveth in the back of the head. Daveth rubbed his head and Thea tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
"You start tomorrow boy, I hope that wasn't your real scowl before some thug sees that and beats the shit out of a whore and then you." Carac scowled and rubbed his chin.
"Now go to sleep." Carac ordered with an angry tone.

Daveth stood and walked into the other room, laying down on the dirty blanket and falling asleep within minutes.

He awoke to someone nudging him with their foot. Daveth looked up and a man was standing over him wearing a hood and a plate cuirass over a thick tunic. He had two steel bracers on his arms and thick leather gloves. A sword hilt protruded from over his right shoulder. He had pants and boots on that looked very similar to Daveth's.

"Carac?" Daveth asked, eyeing the room and rubbing his eye. The bed was gone, and the walls had been scrubbed clean.

"It's time for us to have a real talk." The man said with a familiar voice.
He walked into the other room. Daveth sat up and noticed even his blanket was gone. He stood and walked through the doorway, noticing the walls weren't yellow, there was no more dirt on the walls either. And his shortsword wasn't by the door. He looked up at the shelf where Carac had kept food, noticing it had been taken down and the food was gone. The only thing still in the room was the table and two wooden chairs. Daveth saw the table was covered in equipment. A chainmail shirt, a steel plate cuirass, a steel shortsword with a strange, eastern guard, an ornate black hilt and silver pommel, there was even a strange engraving traveling from the guard to halfway up the blade, it made the weapon look fierce and very expensive. There was a plain longsword beside it, with a normal guard, black hilt and round pommel. Throwing daggers sat lined up on the table. A small crossbow and a quiver of bolts sitting beside it. A small black cloth folded up beside a thick tunic. Daveth stood with his mouth agape at the small armory laid out on the table. Some small traveling vials were lined up as well, along with two bowls filled with strange pungent pastes.

The hooded man pulled down his hood and revealed his face. Daveth realized it was Carac, or at least it had been. Daveth only recognized him by his hard eyes filled with years of cynicism. "Carac" looked a complete stranger now. He had a full head of hair, a full beard, a small nose that somehow wasn't crooked anymore, and when the man opened his mouth to speak his teeth were straight and white.
"Who are you really?" Daveth asked with narrowed eyes. The man who had been Carac only smiled, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
"You may continue to call me Carac, but know that name is a farce and the man who it belonged to ceases to exist, starting today." Daveth didn't like this new pompous Carac's way of speaking.
"That's not really an answer." Daveth said.

"I am Sa'kage." Carac replied.

"Why are you here?" Daveth asked. The man opened his mouth before Daveth cut him off.
"Why am I here?" Daveth asked in a serious tone. Daveth muscles tensed, and he glanced at the weapons on the table.
"Firstly, do not cut me off again or you will have problems. And these problems will last more than some five weeks on the floor. Secondly, as I said I am Sa'kage, you are here because you have been chosen to join the Sa'kage." Carac explained.
"Why the lie? What about Thea? Is she a fraud too?" Daveth asked, he felt somewhat betrayed for the second time in a few short months.

"You don't need to know about Thea, but out of fairness I will tell you what you are allowed to know, she is not really a whore, she is a magae and ex-chantry sister, she is a member of the Sa'kage as well, her role is to find slaveborn that are talented, slaveborn like you." Carac said, eyeing Daveth up and down.
"The lie, as you call it; is because when the Sa'kage recruits new members they ease them into their suited role, going from the street to underworld intrigue is not an easy transition and it is not one the Sa'kage is in the habit of forcing. However, these are hard times, and the Sa'kage has made a worrisome discovery. You were going to work in the brothel for a time, but as a new member- or rather, a new prospect you are out of a list of suspects, and you have a close relationship with someone who very much is a suspect. Tell me, what is your relation to Ulric, and do you know of Corbin Fishill?"
Daveth was a bit lost in all of this. Though he took some small comfort in "easing the transition" part of the explanation, so long as it meant what he thought it meant.
"Ulric was our guild leader, from what I know he was a mercenary or a soldier. He taught me to read and write simple things. I don't know who Corbin is, but I know he is important, and that he spoke with Ulric once." Carac sat in silence, thinking about what Daveth had just told him.
"Are you a wetboy?" Daveth asked with fear in his voice.
"Not anymore." Came the swift reply. "I am in a sense, now retired." Daveth was sort of surprised by that, in the list of professions that have retirees, magical assassin didn't strike him as in the list. Carac read Daveth's expression and sighed.
"I was poisoned while playing the role of your new guardian, though it was amateur work and I managed to cure myself, it's left enough damage for me to step away from my old role, if only for a while. This is also a cause for alarm in the Sa'kage, yet much like the ordeal with Corbin Fishill it doesn't prove what the Sa'kage suspects." Daveth wasn't sure what any of this meant, he felt like he was being quizzed and lectured at the same time. Carac sighed again, though much louder.
"Corbin Fishill was a member of the nine, the council that runs the Sa'kage. He managed the slaveborn guilds, the guilds, as you know them, are more than just banded together street urchins, they are a pool of manpower for the Sa'kage, and this pool could be turned into a hasty army if need be, but it is primarily where the Sa'kage gets more members. Ones that are talented or show aptitude are recruited into the Sa'kage for whatever role they are suited for. Corbin Fishill has been upsetting the balance of power for the guilds, throwing them into war with each other as though we were in Khalidor. And it is suspected that he was actually doing so at the behest of Khalidor. He has been dealt with immediately, and severely for this. Further, most guild heads answer to the Sa'kage in one way or another, this "Ulric" does not, and the Sa'kage is not sure if it is because he is strongly independent, or because he- like Corbin Fishill, is colluding with Khalidor, his aggressive tactics and rapidly expanding guild territory makes the Sa'kage believe it is the latter." All of these politics and intrigue were beginning to give Daveth a headache.
"But why does it matter if you were poisoned? You were a wetboy, a killer, people would probably try to kill you for that." Daveth immediately regretted the question as soon as it left his lips.
"That's exactly the reason, the Sa'kage keeps me on retainer, I only work for them, the others simply inform the Sa'kage of their contracts and ask approval. The fact that someone tried to kill me is cause for alarm, think of me as their sword, if you try to get rid of a man's sword, he will assume you mean to do him harm, an attack on me is an attack on the Sa'kage. Though I may have gotten sloppy on a past job, which is why we don't know if it was at the behest of Khalidor that I was poisoned. I also didn't kill Corbin Fishill, it's rumoured that Durzo Blint did. Yet I was the wetboy who was targeted first." Daveth squeezed his forehead. Gods no wonder the Sa'kage makes so much money, all of this is too complicated.
"I can see you are weary of all these explanations so I will make this last one quick. You are not talented enough to be a true wetboy. However the Sa'kage has decided to make you one anyways, they believe you will be an economic killer for them. Tell me, how much would you charge to kill your Ulric?" Daveth thought deeply, trying to come up with some outlandish price to defy expectations.
"One hundred gold." Daveth proclaimed loudly. Carac immediately started laughing. Daveth actually missed Carac's annoying cackle.

"I can see as usual, the Sa'kage was right. Daveth, a wetboy would charge at least five times that." So it's Daveth now, not "boy."
"What does the Sa'kage want me to do?" Daveth asked with a puzzled expression.
"Kill Ulric, but first find out if he works for Khalidor. Do this within four days. Or I will kill you. If you succeed, rest assured you will get your one hundred gold and more." With that, Carac put his hood up and stood, walking to the door. Quickly unlocking, relocking, and unlocking the door before pushing it open and stepping outside, he gave Daveth a small nod before shutting the door behind him, locking, unlocking, and relocking it. Daveth rubbed his face, looking at the equipment "Carac" had left for him. Kill Ulric, yeah I'll just do that, almost dying on the side of the street turned me into a master sword fighter and marksman that can sniff the fucking air and find Ulric straight away.

Daveth walked up to the table, carefully picking up and examining one of the vials that were lined up on the table. Daveth thought back to the first time he had tried to kill Ulric, the very same day they had met, and it had gone horribly for him, even with the "T" brothers helping him. But I didn't have all this useful stuff then.

Daveth picked up the longsword, giving it a swing to test the weight and balance of it.

He didn't know much about fencing, only what Ulric had offhandedly mentioned or the stances he'd seen Ulric practicing.

Daveth wished he had spent the last five weeks training instead of just healing and laying on the floor. Only going outside to feed a street urchin. He let out a loud sigh and scanned the table for parchment. He found a small parchment tucked under the one of the bowls.

- Left to right

Vrynide, paralysis, then death, one lethal dose
Baxythe, venom; cause muscles spasms, death

Ghlelaine, temporary strength
Bowl; face paint, conceal scars (?)

Bowl; Hair dye, apply to hair, wait 15 minutes, black hair

Daveth scoffed, how thoughtful of him to put a helpful elixir next to a vial of venom and a vial of poison. Daveth stripped off his gambeson, picking up the ornate shortsword and cutting off his remaining sleeve. He slipped it back on and picked up the mail shirt, pulling it over his gambeson, he wasn't sure what to do about the long chainmail sleeves. I already fucked up. Daveth shook his head at his clear mistake, worrying that if he couldn't even put armor on, how was he supposed to kill a seasoned soldier. He put on the thick tunic over his chainmail and gambeson, thinking it best not to draw attention to himself over the practicality of wearing his chainmail correctly. He left the steel cuirass where it was and picked up the scabbard for the shortsword, tying it to the back of his sword belt. Then he picked up the longsword's scabbard and fastened it to his left side. He toyed with the idea of mimicking Carac and wearing the shortsword on his back, then dismissed the idea as it would make him look suspicious. He fastened the bracers to his forearms before picking up the swords and sliding them into their scabbards. Then Daveth picked up the bowl of hair dye and started rubbing the thick paste into his hair. It burned at first, but fifteen minutes quickly passed as Daveth stared at the table and considered what else he would need. He picked up a small folded white cloth that sat in front of the bowls, wiping out the dye. Then tossed the dirty blackened cloth back on the table. He dismissed the throwing knives completely in that time, thinking the weapons took too much skill and that he would likely hit Ulric with the handle and embarrass himself. He picked up the crossbow and the hunter sling beside it. Strapping the crossbow to his back and concealing one bolt in each boot with the bodkin tips facing upward. He picked up the venom vial slowly and the cloth in front of it. Pulling out the cork and pouring the liquid onto the cloth, he placed the vial back on the table and stuffed the cork back into it before unsheathing his longsword with his free hand and running the cloth along the edges. If he couldn't win a fair fight, he'd make sure to fight with all the unfair elements available to him. He picked up a small pouch and strapped it to his belt before opening it and putting the "Ghlelaine" vial inside.

He wasn't sure what to do with the vial of poison. It wouldn't do him any good to poison Ulric if he was supposed to get information out of him before killing him. Surely he can't say whether or not he has any loyalties to Khalidor if he's paralyzed. Daveth came up with an idea and wrapped the vial in the dirty dye cloth and stuffed it in his boot. Satisfied with his weapons Daveth picked up the face cloth and left the mess of other items where they were on the table and approached the door. Unlocking, relocking and unlocking it just as he had seen Carac do. Stepping out he saw it was dusk, he turned and locked, unlocked, and relocked the door. Making a mental list of all the taverns and brothels inside Two Fist territory. He thought he'd try his luck and check if Carac was inside the Lily. Stepping out onto the sparsely populated street, he rounded the Lily and went inside.

He was unimpressed with what he saw inside. He always expected a brothel to be beautiful and inviting. There was a plain counter and assorted furniture in the big room, he scanned the room looking for Ulric. He saw three plain looking courtesans, a barkeep behind the counter and two fat men sitting on the ugly chairs. One of the girls approached him and leaned into his chest.
"Are you lonely?" She asked seductively.
"I'm looking for a man." Daveth said bluntly.
"Oh." The woman said with a shocked expression.
"No- Not like that. I'm looking for someone named Ulric, does he come in here?"
"We don't kiss and tell, a man's pleasures are his own business." Daveth sighed and pulled out a gold piece from the pouch Carac had left him.
"Who's business is it now?" Daveth asked with a grin.
The courtesan gave a flirtatious smile and took the gold piece.
"He comes in here once a fortnight, he doesn't bed any of the women here, just drinks."
"When was he here last?" The girl put a finger to her chin, looking at the ceiling.
"He likely won't be back tonight. Though I hear he stays at an inn almost always."
"The name?" Daveth asked.
"The Drunken Soldier." She answered in an instant. Of course he stays there.

"Why are you looking for him?" She asked with a beautiful smile. Daveth thought it best to come up with a convincing lie, Ulric was about to turn up dead if all went well.
"I owe him a ton of money." Daveth said. She eyed him up and down.
"You certainly look like one of his friends." I'm about to look like his murderer.

"Is that a- compliment?" The girl laughed at his reply and walked away. Daveth turned and left. Stepping out onto the street and heading for the inn.

Daveth pushed the front door of the Drunken Soldier open. He saw it was somewhat busy inside. There were several tables crammed into the main room. With a bar being tended along with a barmaid running around. Daveth scanned the busy tables looking for Ulric. He saw him sitting at the farthest table from the door, still wearing his "I'm a big scary war veteran" outfit. Daveth approached the closest table.
"Can I sit here?" He asked a drunk man dressed like him.
"Huh? Oh aye." The man said with a drunken drawl.

Daveth sat down, eyeing Ulric from his side of the room. Ulric wasn't drunk, he sat just staring into the frothy ale in front of him as though it had answers.
"What can I get you?" The barmaid asked Daveth with a welcoming smile.
"Your cheapest drink." Daveth replied.
"Nah, get this boy something strong!" The drunk he had spoken with handed the barmaid a silver. Then wrapped his arm around Daveth's neck.
"Tell me boy, when did your- *HIC* caravan get in?" Daveth pulled away slightly, the man's breath was rancid. And his red gambeson smelled of shit. His unkempt beard and hair filled with bits of dead grass.
"A fortnight ago." Daveth said.
"Strange- *Hic* that's when mine got in too. Where were you coming from?" The dirty drunk asked. Daveth tried to remember the names of the neighboring kingdoms.
"Ceura." He replied, suddenly nervous.
"Aye! You were with my caravan too then! Strange, I never saw you, weren't too big. Some twenty men and three wagons." Daveth thought making up a detail about the caravan would give him away for sure.
"I kept to myself." Daveth said.
"Mmm, aye, aye. Might've been best." The drunk was suddenly bored with Daveth, turning back to his friends. Daveth wasn't sure how to deal with Ulric. Then he had an idea, glancing outside to see it was dark. He tapped the drunk on the shoulder. The man turned to him with a face of disinterest.
"You see that man there, in the gray gambeson?" The drunk raised his eyebrows at the question, glancing at Ulric, and then turning back to Daveth and giving a nod.
"He owes the Sa'kage a ton of money. They got bashers outside waiting to grab him." The drunk's eyes widened in surprise. Daveth gave him a gold piece.
"Tell him to leave out the back, out the alleyways, they shan't see him then, otherwise they might barge in once he's sleeping in his room." The drunk grinned and nodded repeatedly, interested to be involved in the sudden inn intrigue. The barmaid placed a flagon in front of Daveth. And Daveth slid it towards the drunk's friends. Daveth stood, leaving the inn and walking around into the alleys surrounding the inn. He rounded the inn until he found the back door. Looking for somewhere to hide.

He saw a shadowed corner, unslinging and loading the crossbow before placing it in the corner, he leaned his back against the wall, concealing himself with darkness. Nervously death gripping his sword. He wasn't new to killing, but he didn't like the idea of trying to kill someone he'd lost a one sided fight to. Half an hour passed and Daveth worried that the drunk just pocketed the gold piece and laughed about the exchange with his friends. As soon as the thought entered his mind he heard Ulric's voice.
"For fuck's sake. I got it, get off me." Ulric barged through the back door and into the alley. The man Daveth had spoken to was clinging to him, vomit lining his thick black beard. Daveth saw Ulric's old sword still attached to his belt. Ulric gripped the man by his larynx and threw him through the door, causing it to swing back and forth before easing shut. Daveth tensed up and stepped out of the shadow, staring at Ulric.
"Ulric." He said in a sad tone.
"Daveth?" Ulric replied before turning to face him.
"Why did you betray me? You were going to war with the other guilds anyway, Corbin Fishill saw my face, knew who I was. Laughed at me and told me about your coming wars with the other guilds."

"Corbin Fishill? I have nothing to do with that Sa'kage bitch, or his Sa'kage." Daveth gave a wry grin in reply. Unsheathing his sword, and holding it in a saber stance. Ulric raised an eyebrow and laughed. Unsheathing his old sword and holding it in a high guard.

"Decided to commit suicide?" Ulric asked with a grin.
Daveth lunged, flicking his wrist and shallowly cutting Ulric's forehead, before batting away Ulric's sword in an awkward parry and stumbling backwards. Ulric had swung hard, and Daveth had gripped his longsword too tightly, sending it clattering behind him.

"Fucking pathetic." Ulric said. Holding the point of his old sword toward Daveth. Daveth pulled out his shortsword and held it up in a fool's guard he'd seen Ulric do. Ulric started side stepping, and Daveth did the same in the opposite direction, making sure to keep his opening on the opposite side of Ulric's sword arm.
"Well? Are you going to kill me or not?" Ulric asked rhetorically. Daveth saw Ulric's sword arm start spasming and tensing along his deep scar. Ulric shifted into a fool's guard and started pounding his scar with a closed fist. Ulric was surprised that his sword arm tensed so soon from the scar. Daveth took a step forward and Ulric's face flashed with panic. Then Ulric's other arm started spasming, Daveth slowly stepped backward so that he was well out of Ulric's reach, before laughing.
"You've been poisoned." He told Ulric. Ulric dropped his sword and gripped his spasming arms as though he were doing so for warmth. Then wiped his forehead with his left hand, looking at the blood. Ulric started hyperventilating before falling to ground, wheezing badly. Daveth sheathed his shortsword and picked up his longsword, sliding it back into its scabbard.

Daveth walked over to Ulric who was staring up at the sky, gripping his chest. Daveth was somewhat terrified at how quickly the blade venom was killing him, he didn't imagine murder being this much easier. Daveth looked at the cut on Ulric's forehead, it was puffed up and purple, oozing concentrated globs of blood. He reached into the his boot, unwrapping the vial.
"Tell me if you work for Khalidor. And I'll give you this antidote." Daveth said.
Ulric's neck started to bulge at the jugular.
"I- I do. Lands, fortune, I had to help Corbyn become Shinga. Ceuran coins- they paid in Ceuran coins." Ulric's hands clinged to his neck as his legs lifted him off the ground, spasming. Daveth was surprised that Ulric had lied to him just moments earlier. He thought he had been smart by feigning that he knew more than he did, evidently his lies needed polish. Daveth thought of not even letting him drink the poison, letting him die without hope. Then Daveth placed the vial beside the spasming Ulric. Ulric snatched it and chugged it without so much as a second thought. Then Ulric shot Daveth a raged filled gaze.

"I'm going to k-." Ulric suddenly gripped his throat with both hands, coughing, then going limp. Daveth thought he had seen enough and walked away. Assuming a cut filled with venom and a dose of poison were enough to confirm the kill without having to watch Ulric die.
Daveth walked back out onto the street. Heading back to the Lily, back "home."
When Daveth finally came back to the door he felt eyes on him. And turned to scan the alley, he couldn't see anyone, yet the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He faced the door and unlocked it, before hearing a step and rolling to his left. He heard a thud and looked at the door. A black bladed shortsword protruded from the door.
"Well done!" Carac said from his right, walking up and pulling his shortsword from the hard wood door.

"Is this a joke or a betrayal?" Daveth asked in an unhinged voice.
"Neither." Carac answered, sheathing the shortsword on his back.

"Another test." Carac said bluntly. Daveth was shocked at the simplicity of the answer, surprised it didn't span some long drawn out explanation about how the Nine doubted his abilities.
"What if I hadn't moved in time?" Daveth asked with a look of concern.
"Then you'd be dead." Carac said playfully before laughing.
"The point of the test?" Daveth asked.
"I used talent to conceal myself and muffle the sound of my steps. If you weren't talented enough to be what the Sa'kage needs you to be. You would be dead."

Carac explained. The familiar drawn out length of the answer satisfied Daveth.

"What happens now?" Daveth asked.
"Come." Carac said.

"What about the rest of the equipment?" Daveth asked, gesturing to the door.
"I have already collected all the equipment you left behind and disposed of the remaining furniture as well. You may keep the key and return here later if you wish, but a member of the Nine will speak to you, there are also other errands I must take you on."

"Which one of the Nine?" Daveth asked.
"Come." Carac said again.
Daveth followed Carac closely and worried two armed men might draw the wrong kind of attention. Wondering where they were going Daveth looked past Carac and saw they were approaching Vanden bridge, Daveth had never crossed it in his life as it led to the east side. A much nicer part of the capitol that housed a wealthier class. Daveth was sure the guards would stop them. Yet Carac gave a wave to which they nodded and stepped out of the way. As they crossed the bridge and walked through the clean streets, Daveth marveled at the new world he had walked into. The buildings were all intact and nice, gone were the derelict and empty buildings like the one he had lived in. There were no ruins, no buildings spattered with mud and shit. No piles of dung, no laborers that reeked of stale sweat, no prostitutes that smelled of sweat, sex, and perfume. Carac led Daveth several more blocks before coming to another brothel. Carac waved away all the whores and brothel bashers and led Daveth up a couple stories of stairs before stopping in front of an intimidating double door. Carac turned to face Daveth.

"You are meeting the Mistress of Pleasures." Carac stated.
"Who is the Mistress of Pleasures?" Daveth asked.
"She will reveal her name to you if she decides to, if you mean who as in what does she do, she is part spymaster, part master of coin. And she does more than her fair share of work within the Nine. Once we go in, you will address her simply as 'Mistress'. Do you understand?"
Daveth nodded and Carac pushed open the double doors. Inside was a desk and walls lined with full bookcases. The Mistress of Pleasures was looking out the window, holding a glass of wine and tracing the rim of the glass with her free hand.
"This is him, Mistress." Carac gestured to Daveth. She only glanced at Daveth before looking back out the window. She was stunningly beautiful, yet she looked mature, a woman in her late years.
"And Ulric?" She asked expectantly with a beautiful voice.
"Dead. Our prospect found that he had been working for Khalidor." Carac said.

The Mistress of Pleasures let out a long sigh.
"We don't need anymore Wetboys or assassins, Durzo Blint has taken an apprentice." She said before taking a sip of her wine. Daveth's heart sank, and he was tempted to reach for his sword while Carac's back was to him.
"Then what happens to me?" Daveth asked, fearing for his life.

"Take him to Thea, inform her she is to teach the boy what she knows." Carac nodded in reply and motioned Daveth out.
"Thank you, Mistress." Daveth said while performing a bow he'd seen a bard do. She waved him away dismissively and Daveth turned to leave.

Daveth followed Carac back down the stairs.
"So I'm not going to be a Wetboy anymore?" Daveth asked.

"It would seem so." Carac replied.

Daveth followed Carac outside and Carac wasted no time before leading him through more streets.
"Master? That wasn't the real Mistress of Pleasures was it?" Carac laughed in reply.
"And how would you know that?" Carac asked.

"It's just… Momma K use to let the other guilds winter on the floor of one of her brothels, and I heard she owned a lot of brothels here in the city. That woman wasn't her."

Carac laughed again.
"You are correct. She was one of Momma K's doubles, Momma K doesn't have time to manage all of her brothels at once, so she tends to delegate women that look like her to do it, after teaching them some of her mannerisms of course." Daveth was actually irritated that he was right, was there anyone in the Sa'kage who wasn't a fraud?

Carac led Daveth twice the distance they had walked until they came to a small townhouse, it was very nice, with a second story window that had a small garden beneath it, the craftsmanship on the door was superb, Carac banged on it all the same, not using the brass lion door knocker.

"Who is it?" A girl's voice asked through the door.
"Your new tenant." Carac answered. Daveth heard three unlocking sounds before the nice door swung open.
"Jonus?" Thea said.
"Jonus?" Daveth repeated with a smirk, he looked at Carac before Carac turned and scowled at him.

"May we come in?" Jonus asked. Thea thought for a moment then opened her mouth to speak, Jonus shoved the door open anyways and pushed past her.

Daveth saw Thea was in a revealing nightgown.
"Jonus!" Thea cried, rushing upstairs to cover herself with something. The first floor of her small townhouse was nice, bookcases lined the walls and nice red chairs sat in front of a fire place. There was a small dining table with four beautiful wooden chairs around it, an oven with ingredients hanging over it sat in the far corner.. Jonus sat down at the dining table, putting his muddy boots up, likely ruining the fine wood. Not following his cues, Daveth pulled his boots off and left them by the door, shutting the door behind him and standing in the middle of the room. He heard the pitter patter of Thea rushing down the stairs. She came back down and looked at Jonus in horror.
"Jonus!" She cried again.
"Why are you being an ass!?" She shouted.
"You let my name slip in front of Daveth." Jonus answered.
Thea gestured at Daveth.
"He doesn't even care what your fucking name is! And don't give me that! You made up the name Jonus Severing! All you Wetboys made up your names anyways!" Thea shouted with an angry voice.
"Keep your voice down before I rip out your larynx." Jonus ordered.
"Fuck you!" Thea yelled, and her hands lit up with fire, she raised her right hand ready to hurl what Daveth assumed would be a fireball at Jonus. Daveth started laughing and the two both snapped from their quarreling and shot Daveth quizzical looks, Thea's magefire going out in the sudden confusion.
"It's just like the first time we met, Thea." Daveth said. Thea looked back and forth at Daveth and Jonus, then laughed.
"I suppose it is." She said with a smile. Even Jonus snickered briefly before taking his feet off the table. Thea stopped laughing and crossed her arms, still shooting scornful looks at Jonus.
"Why are you two here?" Thea asked.

"There's been a change of plans. Durzo has finally stopped being difficult and accepted an apprentice. So I won't be apprenticing a too old street urchin into a third rate Wetboy, instead you are going to apprentice him into a third rate Sa'kage mage."

"What!?" Thea said, dropping her arms and speaking in a whiny voice. She looked at Daveth. "Can you even read?"

"I actually can read. My guild leader taught me." Daveth said proudly.
"Uh-huh." Thea replied with a clear tone of disbelief.
"There, he says he can even read. He'll be throwing fireballs at the slightest provocation in no time." Jonus smiled. And Thea shot him another scornful look, before flicking her wrists and making her hands flash with fire again.

Jonus stood, stretching and yawning.
"Well. It's late. I wish you well on your studies Daveth. If things go well I'm sure we will see each other again soon. Good night Thea."
"Yes, please get the fuck out." Thea said.
"Goodbye Master Jonus. I suppose you want your stuff back?" Daveth said, unslinging the crossbow and holding it out to Jonus.
"No, it is fine, you may keep what you still have." Jonus said, putting his hand up.
"Thank you, Master." Daveth said before bowing. Jonus opened the door and Daveth blurted.
"Master! I know I'm not going to be your apprentice anymore but I was hoping- you could teach me to handle a sword?" Jonus stopped, facing Daveth with a surprised look.
"Whatever for? Fireball Temper here is going to teach you magic." Jonus said, motioning to Thea.
"Yes… But you said my talent is weak, shouldn't I learn other things as well?" Jonus chuckled.
"I will give you some of my time, however I may be taking a real apprentice soon."
"Thank you, Master." Jonus nodded and left, slamming the door behind him.
Daveth felt a sudden shock in his right forearm and grimaced.
"I'm your Master now, and I don't like it when an apprentice I'm resigned to decides to dedicate himself to other things." Thea stated, poking Daveth's forearm a second time and shocking him with the tip of her finger. Thea rubbed her forehead and sighed.
"What am I going to do with you? You should be grateful I didn't even refuse. A life as a Wetboy isn't much of a life at all." Daveth wasn't sure what to say, so he didn't say anything. Silence filled the room before Thea finally spoke again.
"Well- I am tired, a gentleman would sleep on the floor." Thea said with a smile.
"It's not like I'm use to sleeping anywhere else." Daveth said with a scowl.
"Oh no- I didn't- I was merely joking." Thea said with a guilty look.
"There is an extra bed in my study."
"The floor is fine." Daveth said.
Thea frowned and walked away, Daveth could hear the pitter patter of her feet on the stairs, He walked up to the door and unstrung the crossbow, placing it against the wall. He felt awkward being in Thea's house as an uninvited guest. A few days ago he thought she was a whore. He undid his swordbelt and placed it on the floor beside the crossbow, undressing and folding his clothes before placing it on top of his swordbelt and weapons. He laid down on top of the pelt in front of the fireplace, falling asleep.

Daveth awoke and looked around the room, seeing Thea at the table reading a book, he could smell something cooking, he wasn't use to such nice things to wake up to.
"Good morning Master."
"Master." Thea repeated with a laugh.
"Oh, should I not call you master?" Daveth said with a frown.
"No, it's fine. I just find it amusing is all, you thought I worked at the Lily a few days ago, now you're laying on my floor calling me 'Master'." Daveth smirked and stood. Walking over to the table.
"So what will you teach me today master? Making fire like you? Lightning?"
"The first thing you will learn is…" Thea sniffed the air, then stood, walking over to Daveth and leaning in before taking a whiff.
"Ughhhh. The first thing you will learn is how to take a bath. And when was the last time you washed your clothes?" Daveth stood silent for a moment, thinking, he remembered finding his boots and gambeson cleaned, then frowned.
"When I washed them?" Thea asked. Daveth looked away and started nodding.

"There is a bathhouse around the corner, go use it, then come back and clean up the floor." Daveth nodded and walked to his pile of dirty clothes, Daveth put on his black outfit, he poked his fingers through some new holes he hadn't noticed before. He looked at Thea and realized she had been watching him get dressed.
"That reminds me, go buy some new clothes, it will draw the wrong sort of attention to have some unkempt smelly thug following me around." Daveth frowned, unkempt and smelly aren't the words he'd describe himself with.
"Don't make that face at me, apprentice. Say "Yes, Master." And go do it." Daveth scowled at Thea and she simply stared back at him. My Lady Daggereyes Daveth thought to himself with a smirk.
"Yes, Master." Daveth finally said, before turning to the door. Daveth unlocked, relocked and unlocked the three locks in quick succession.
"And don't do that weird locking that Jonus does, one Jonus is quite enough."
"Yes, Master." Daveth said again, before pushing the door open and shutting it behind him. Daveth stepped off and rounded the corner, He could see a man standing beside a fancy door that hung open, steam poured out from the top of the doorway. Daveth walked up and the small Ceuran man perked up and held out his hand.
"Money, my friend?" The Ceuran man asked.
"Uh, how much?" The Ceuran man held up five fingers in reply. Daveth dug in his pouch and dropped five coppers into the man's hand. The Ceuran man stared at his palm with a cocked eyebrow before eyeing Daveth up and down, he shrugged and motioned to Daveth's sword.
"You leave here, yes?" Daveth undid his sword belt and handed it to the Ceuran.

Bathhouses seemed strange to Daveth, men walking around naked and sleeping in the baths. Daveth eased into one of the tubs and scrubbed his skin hard.
"Easy lad, you're meant to enjoy the bath." A passing man told him.
Daveth ignored him and kept scrubbing until he felt clean enough to hop in bed with Thea if she asked him to. Daveth jumped out of the tub and headed to the door.
A passing man gasped and turned to Daveth.
"My sir, you're bleeding." The man said before pointing at Daveth's arm. Daveth looked down and saw blood seeping from the fresh scars on his right arm.
"Thank you, my friend." Daveth replied. Not bothering to staunch the bleeding and casually walking past him. Daveth wiped away the blood with a towel and redressed, collecting his sword from the strange Ceuran doorman.
Daveth looked down and pulled at his ragged gambeson. Looking at the people passing him Daveth understood would Thea meant, only his boots were worth keeping, ragged clothes were common in the warrens, but they weren't common here. Daveth couldn't help but fidget with his clothes as he watched more merchants and well dressed residents pass him.
"Friend, friend!" Daveth felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned and saw a Ymmuri man holding a black ornate robe.
"For you good price, very nice, yes?" He asked with a thick accent.
"What is the price?" Daveth asked.
"One gunder, friend. Is very good trade!" Daveth dug out a gold gunder and handed it to the man.

"Dress here?" The Ymmuri man motioned to his small trader's tent. Daveth walked in and took off his gambeson, the black robe covered his trousers well enough that Daveth figured he didn't need anything else. Daveth strolled out and patted his new robe. He slapped his pouch to make sure he hadn't been robbed by the Ymmuri man.
"My friend?" Daveth heard from behind him. Daveth turned and saw the Ymmuri man holding up his sleeveless black gambeson.
"Fucking burn it." Daveth said. The Ymmuri man laughed and waved goodbye.
Daveth started walking back to Thea's house, wondering what magic she would teach him, if he could even make magefire with his hands he'd never go hungry again, if need be Daveth could perform on the streets whenever he needed money. Daveth rounded the corner and wandered past Thea's house.
"Daveth!" He heard Thea call out. Daveth turned and saw Thea leaning out from her second story window.
Daveth walked up to the door, trying to push it open before he remembered there are three very large locks on the other side.

He heard the series of clicks from the locks on the other side and the door swung open.
Thea eyed Daveth up and down. "Very nice!" She said with a smile.
She shifted Daveth's robe and saw the same trousers and boots, Thea's smile faded.
"Well- good enough." Thea said with a shrug. She opened the door and Daveth was surprised to see all the mud Jonus tracked in was gone.
"What about the mess, Master?" Daveth asked while staring at the floor.
"Hmm? Ah, Jonus came in with his new apprentice and made him clean it up." Thea said while waving her hand dismissively.
"Soon, means very soon for Jonus." Daveth said.
"Not at all surprising, I spotted a prospect before you, much younger. Cedric or some such." Thea said. Daveth felt insulted, Jonus teaching him to fence was apparently a very brief offer. Daveth scowled and shut the door behind him, relocking the three locks.
"Stop scowling all the time, apprentice. He left a chest for you." Thea sat down at the table and motioned to the small chest in front of her. Daveth slammed his closed fist down on the chest and it popped open. It was full of gold gunders, a small note sat on top of the fortune.

Daveth,

Your money in full, one hundred gold gunders as per your self proclaimed rate. I will teach you to fence, Cedric needs a partner as I am not the most relenting of teachers. It hardly matters now, but you should consider making sure your deader is dead, before you walk away.

"What is a deader, Master?" Daveth asked.

"It's some nonsense about Wetboys never missing, their targets are dead but don't know it. Jonus boasted about it, it sounded foolish when he said it." Thea explained.

"Do you have anything to teach me for today, Master?" Daveth asked before sitting down across from Thea.
"Yes, today I will explain Talent, or magic- as you know it. As well as the mages, magae and meisters of Midcyru. Firstly, a Talented individual must have three different components to be able to express their Talent outwardly, as magefire for example. The first is their Glore Vyrden, or life magic. This is the reserve that stores the power that can be directed as the user wishes. The second component is the ability to refill one's Glore Vyrden when it's empty - if one doesn't possess it, then they can use magic only once or twice during their whole lives. A person who can replenish their glore vyrden typically does so by absorbing sunlight, it is said that red mages can replenish their glore vyrden through unusual sources, like absorbing fire. The final component is a conduit allowing the use of one's Glore Vyrden however they desire. This conduit can be small or blocked, limiting the maximum amount of magic one can use at a single time, or even their entire life."
"What about me, Master? Jonus said my talent was weak, aren't you the one who told him that?" Daveth asked.
"Yes, and for a Wetboy your talent would be weak, Wetboys tend to skulk around at night, a Wetboy must be able to use their talent for hours without replenishing their Glore Vyrden, you could only manage an hour at best. For a mage you have a large Glore Vyrden, Wetboys however need to have a massive pool of life magic, that is why my job is so important, a Wetboy prospect is one in a hundred at best." Thea explained.
"Now give me a gold gunder." Thea ordered. Daveth pulled one out of his small chest and slid it to her. Thea picked it up, squeezing it between her palms. Thea examined the gold piece before sliding it back to Daveth. Daveth looked down at the gold piece and saw it wasn't a gold gunder anymore, the face of King Aleine Gunder's forefather was gone, a nice golden self portrait of Thea took it's place, the first gold piece to have someone that smiled.
"The blue mages are creationists, they use their magic to alter their appearances or magically manipulate anything of substance." Thea said as she stood, she walked around the table and picked up Daveth's hand. Daveth felt a sting in his pointer finger and saw Thea had pricked him with a needle, a drop of blood ran down his finger before Thea wrapped her closed fist around it. Daveth felt a strange rush of energy in his finger before Thea let go. The blood was gone and his finger wasn't bleeding anymore.
"The green mages are healers, they use their magic in combination with alchemy to cure any ailment-" Thea turned to the fireplace as she spoke. "It is said that they even saved an unborn child by transferring it into a different woman." Thea extended her arm and aimed an open palm at the fireplace, Daveth saw a flash of light and the fireplace roared to life.
"The red mages dedicate themselves to the mastery of fire, as I touched on earlier, it is said they can absorb fire and replenish their Glore Vyrden, this has led them to believe that heat is the true source of all life magic, and that the frozen wasteland to the North was the doing of dark magic." Thea said.

"Is there such a thing as dark magic, Master?" Daveth asked.
"Yes, the meisters of Khalidor practice dark magic, it is said that they regularly summon creatures that live on different planes of existence to destroy their enemies, as well as a strange form of necromancy that mixes with their summonings. Speaking of which-" Thea turned and pointed at the bookcase in the corner. "You are not to read anything from that bookcase, do you understand?" Thea asked.
"Yes, Master." Daveth replied.