I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.
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The Confrontation
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Time 14:
It's been two weeks since "the human invasion", as it is sometimes referred to.
My pants are absolutely shot. Any day now I'm going to bend over to pick something up and I'm going to hear the sound of tearing cloth. In theory I could walk around in my boxers, but yeah, it's time to go clothes shopping.
Mipedians really don't have anything kind of clothing that resembles pants. Makes sense, considering their tail. The most common kind of clothing for men is instead a kind of skirt called a shendyt.
The shopkeeper of the market stall I'm at is showing me a variety of cloth types. "And here you can find soft leathers made from the skins of various wild animals in the desert." He's describing things in somewhat dramatic language that he probably wouldn't use with another Mipedian.
I point at a stack of white folded cloth. "Actually, I think the flax linen will do fine."
The Mipedian grinds his teeth a little. The cloth I'm pointing at is the cheapest he has, and I'm certain he doesn't make much profit off of it. "Linen? Are you sure? There are softer cloths, such as cotton or silk-"
"I need to be able to work in it," I interrupt. "Linen is fine."
The shopkeeper sighs, "And what kind of clothing do you need. Sarong? Shendyt? Izarr?"
"Shen-det," I say while stumbling over the word. I feel the sorong and izarr look too feminine. "Two of them, no dyes or bleaching."
The Mipedian turns to a desk and takes out a scroll. "They will be ready by sunset. My offer is twenty-five palms each."
Yeah right they're worth that much. "It's your cheapest cloth. Twelve each."
The Mipedian glances at me. "It's for labor, and there are materials besides linen in a shendyt. Twenty-three each."
I put a smirk on my face. "A lot of that labor would be bleaching and dyeing the cloth, which isn't happening with these. Fifteen each."
"Twenty each."
"Seventeen each."
"Nineteen each." The shopkeeper folds his arms. "I'm not dropping to eighteen."
That means thirty-eight palms. It's still a bit much, but at least it isn't fifty. "Done."
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I spend the rest of the day wandering through the market. I'm not looking to buy anything yet, but it's still nice to see what's available, especially considering the constantly changing nature of the market. One merchant is selling jewelry. Another has what appears to be dice. I'm startled to see an Overworlder merchant, who looks like his wares are spices not found among the Mipedians.
I pass an alley when something takes my mind off the market. I hear a scream that suddenly get cut off. I stop walking and look down the alley. What happened?
There's a man slumped against the wall. There's blood covering his chest.
I step back, stunned. I open my mouth to call the guards, but suddenly something covers my mouth. An invisible force, a Mipedian, pushes me into the alley.
"Don't move," a voice hisses in my ear.
I stand very still. I feel hands search through my pockets. The thief doesn't find anything. A finger slides under the top of my pants and feels around. Crap, he's going to find the hidden pocket I put there.
I feel my ceramic "bank card" get pulled out of the secret pocket. The thief sounds flustered. "You... have an account?"
I nod slowly.
I feel the card scratch my stomach as the Mipedian roughly shoves it back where he found it. "Walk to the bank. Slowly." I feel something sharp poke my back.
I obey, trying to keep my breathing steady. I need to think. Fast. I don't know if this guy is going to let me go after he gets my money. I don't think he will, considering he seems to have killed his last victim.
Ah, I have an idea. I turn back onto the main road. "Where do you think you're going?" the thief hisses.
I mutter, "I set things up so I can only pick up my money from the bank at the front of the palace." It's not true, although it was an option.
"Fine," the thief whispers after a moment. "Don't go too fast."
I make it to the front steps of the palace when a voice makes me stop. "Good afternoon, Michael."
"Hello Malvadine," I say as I turn to the palace guard.
Malvadine puts on one of those scary but friendly grins he has. "You usually come here in the morning. Why the surprise visit? Heading to the bathhouse again today?"
"Actually, I'm headed to the bank." I feel the knife at my back press a little harder. "I've commissioned some clothing that's going to be ready at sunset." The knife stops pressing as hard.
Malvadine glances at my tattered pants. "You really are in need of replacements."
I look directly into Malvadine's eyes. "Say, are people still calling us 'Michael, Maliph, Malvadine'?"
I see Malvadine's eyes narrow just the slightest bit. "Yes they do."
I force a chuckle. "How long before that phrase is finally put behind us, I wonder?"
Malvadine nods. "I can't wait for the matter to drop!"
I crouch to the ground as fast as I possibly can while Malvadine abruptly swings his arm in the place where I was standing, and the air lights up above me. I hear a shriek, followed by the sound of something hitting the sand behind me. I turn to see an unconscious Mipedian flicker out of invisibility.
Malvadine lowers his arm and walks over to the thief. "I was wondering why you put our names out of order. He was trying to steal from you?"
"Probably kill me, too," I say. My heart's pounding, and I'm out of breath. The adrenaline is wearing off. "I can show you where he killed someone else." I put my hands on my knees and pant.
Malvadine snaps his fingers in front of his mouth, and a glowing ball appears in front of him. "Maliph."
Maliph's voice sounds from the spark. "This is he, Malvadine."
Malvadine looks down at the unconscious Mipedian. "I'm leaving a napping robber at the bottom of the steps to the palace. Send someone to pick him up."
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Up next: The Sixth Time
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Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.
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