The Aristocrat, The Bandits, The Chalice. Chapter Two

“Coppers for clams! Ten for a cod!”

“Fifty silvers for the strongest spear! Sixty silvers for the strongest shield!”

“New lamps from old lamps, I can fix them all!”

The market was bustling as always, vendors sell honest goods while pickpockets steal their day’s worth for a meal. Noira slid across the streets, footsteps light, looking for her suspect. It was evening, the sky a golden dusk and already a few lamps from the shops started to be lit by their owners. A stall owner called out to her “Would you like to try my wares? I can guarantee the quality.” But Noira ignored him, quickly speeding away and avoiding eye contact.

Noira was quite an introvert, which you could see if you paid attention to how she did her jobs, which usually involved hiding in the corner and watching, waiting for… Usually nothing. She has a habit of talking a lot to herself but not to others unless she had to, and was pretty cowardly about meeting new people, combat tactics, the sort. At least she always gets the job done… Usually. This was an exception, a grave one.

“Where is that rat…” She muttered to herself. According to the information she got back at the cove, the suspect was supposedly headed here.

“Oh him? I just saw em head out.” “Boy do I not want to be in your shoes, boss was real mad. That guy with the poisons? Oh yeah I didn’t see him in the meeting, huh…” “I dunno ‘bout him but good luck girlie, you’re gon’ need it, with this chaos going ‘round.” “Ahh, he mentioned something about restocking some ingredients, he’s probably in the market by now, although I can’t say if they will be gotten legally, heh” “Wow what was that about, you lost the artifact? Hah! I definitely wouldn’ have lost it.”

That one got a kick where it hurt, really hurt…

Indeed, the suspect Noira was looking for is Samwell, poisoner and assassin. As if waiting for her to mention the rat, she spotted a wanted poster, stuck to a wall. “Samwell Brooks. Wanted. Five Gold Upon Capture.” A picture of the fugitive was in the middle of the poster, surprisingly accurate. “What did this guy even do to have such a high bounty?” Noira asked herself. The average shop vendor, like the ones in the market. They usually earned about two hundred coppers a day, maybe five hundred if business boomed. With a gold coin being equal to a hundred silvers or ten thousand coppers, it was nearly a year’s worth of the average earnings, with maybe a few months to spare, but still a hefty sum.

“Where do they sell poisons, do people even sell those…?” The brewing of poisons was an illegal act, and if caught, had quite a heavy punishment. Knowing this, Noira was stumped about where Samwell could be. She paced around some more and spotted a herb shop. “I guess they did mention something about ingredients, and not the poison itself.” Noira recalled the words of one of the bandits. The shop, with a sign saying “Hanna’s Herbs”, had a few steps leading to a door in the middle, with two tall windows on either side. She could see the silhouettes of a few shelves, probably filled with jars of strange plants. Just then, the door opened, with a man holding a bag coming out of it.

Samwell.

There weren’t many people in this part of the street, so it would be hard for her to blend in. Luckily the poisoner was looking in the opposite direction, so she quickly slid away into a dark alley, neither the shop nor him out of sight. “Almost got caught…” She didn’t expect him to be in a shop supposedly selling normal herbs, but Noira would find out another day, she had a job to finish. “Time to use these…” She took out her earrings, her prized possession. The thin, ornate, golden earrings had a pair of handy magic effects, perfect for an introverted, silent, cowardly thief like Noira. The right earring, with a red gem embedded in it, reduced the range in which any sound she made traveled by quite an amount. The left earring, with a blue gem, increased her hearing range, and allowed her to focus on the voices of specific targets, like this one.

“Maybe I should stop talking to myself so much, then the red one wouldn’t be needed… oh but my footsteps may make sounds too…” She quietly said to herself while tailing Samwell, looking to see where he went. Her footsteps, normally light, were now nearly silent thanks to the effects of the earrings. Neither did she have to directly follow Samwell in her sight as his footsteps were loud and clear.

Some time later, Noira heard a door open and close. She looked around and saw the suspected structure. An Inn. “The Crooked Chandelier,” a real haunt infamous for its ill tempered patrons and looser morals. “Here of all places… Now of all times…” Near the start of night, rather than the middle of it, was when the regulars started pouring in. “I hate crowded places… why couldn’t it be the Gilded Pegasus, they have better customer service at least.” But whether she liked it or not, entering was the only option if she were to get closer to finding out whether Samwell stole the chalice.

She scanned the place, there were many customers already, some ordering, some ogling at the maids, others with their food and ale already. Noira soon spotted the rat, seated not too far from the near end of the lodge, the bag of herbs on one side of the table. “...-ne ale please, and the usual…” She could just barely hear him. Although the earrings could target voices of a specific person, too much noise would still cause disturbances in the filtering. Seeing an empty table, in the corner not to far from Samwell’s, she headed towards it, not drawing too much attention from the patrons, the criminal included.

One of the maids soon came to where Noira was sitting. “How may I serve you today?” The maid cheerfully asked. I thought for a while, not lifting my head. “Where’s the… what’s the word… menu?” “Ahh yes, here…” The maid quickly handed a piece of parchment with a list of items served. Maids here usually were quite gloomy due to the working conditions, with rarely any cheerful ones like this one. “If I had to guess…” The maid didn’t hear Noira clearly and asked “Excuse me?” Noira quickly replied “Ahh sorry, talking… to myself,” she continued, “Are you new here?” The maid smiled and replied, “Yes, actually I was fortunate to be hired, yesterday.” “I see. Well, I wouldn’t get my hopes up in this… hellhole. It’s only a suggestion though, you can… just keep it in the back of your head.” Noira soon spotted a nice beverage to have from the list. “I’ll have this… Apple cider. Nothing else.” Noira pointed to the item on the list, some maids were not literate so they had to mark the item and hand it to the tavern keeper. “Your order will soon arrive.” The maid took the menu back with her and went into the kitchen. Noira specifically looked for something that didn’t seem to have alcohol in it. “I can’t drink much anyways… too young and light headed…”

She decided to continue monitoring Samwell, who seemed to be enjoying his food, until a hooded man sat at the table he was sitting at. Focusing on the two, she started eavesdropping on their conversation. “Greetings, Brook. I hope you have the requested item?”

Requested item? Has Noira found the culprit already… Hearing this she took out the notes and charcoal pencil stashed in her small satchel which had some other small items from her arsenal. “Might forget something later… might as well… ” She quietly made notes, readying a report to the bandit queen. “Hooded man… Requested item…” writing down some keywords, she continued to listen.

“Straight to the point eh? I have it here, but why don’t we have a drink first. It’ll be strange, rude even, to just waltz in and not order anything.” Samwell grinned as he grabbed the mug with his ale. “You have a point…” Soon a maid came to ask for his order, in which he quickly responded, wanting the same as what the traitor had ordered.

“Here’s your apple cider. Please enjoy.” Noira was so focused on their conversation, she didn’t notice the maid from earlier approaching with the drink she ordered. She jumped a bit, but regained her composure soon after. After fumbling in her purse, she handed the maid a few coppers, payment for the drink.

“So… what’s this artifact thing about? You higher ups be wanting to get your hands on it, paying such hefty sums?” The hooded man paused. “... Best not mention it here, the walls have ears.” Samwell looked a bit disappointed. “Oh c’mon, a little talk wouldn’t hurt would it. Not like everyone knows what this thing is, right?” There was a pause. “Very well. The chalice, is one of six, each representing a strange concept from an unknown origin.” The hooded man’s drink arrived, and after paying, he continued as Noira listened while having a sip of cider. “Greed, colored bronze. Power, colored gold. Sacrifice, colored silver. Retribution, colored scarlet. Authority, colored blue…” He waited as Samwell took another bite from his plate. “... and the one yours have stolen, Silence.”

The chalice they had stolen from the northern temple was colored a shiny, but also gloomy, black. Hidden under a podium for preaching, under loose, but heavy tiles, inside a strange metal box with switches on it. Samwell had been the one to open it, then gave it to Noira for “safekeeping”, in which, didn’t turn out well for her. Strangely, the temple was abandoned, much to the band’s surprise, and the actions wouldn’t have been considered stealing, but rather, treasure hunting.

“So, how have you come to know about these… strange wizardry.” Samwell questioned the hooded man as he took a drink from the mug. “I have my ways, but enough questions about me. Now, why don’t we just exchange our… Items, as agreed.” “You have the gold? Pay me first.” The hooded man placed a sack on the table, the slight jingling of coins audible in Noira’s ears. “Now, the chalice.” Before Samwell handed it over, he opened the sack and checked it first. Satisfied, he took out an object, wrapped in cloth. “The deal is done, and now, I think I’ll take my leave…” The hooded man smiled, then vanished. Mug untouched, leaving no trace behind.

Noira was stunned, how could a man, just, disappear into thin air. She blinked a few times and checked again. The hooded man was indeed gone and Samwell was placing the bag of coins in his pouch. Just then, everyone heard a door being open with a loud bang. “He’s right there! Arrest him!” Armored men, clad in shiny, full body plate and visored helmets, spears in hand and swords on their hips. The special knights of the empire, the handpicked veterans who guard the emperor.The insignia of Aurorans, painted proudly on their chestplates.

The Skyblade Knights.

They swiftly surrounded Samwell, who was in shock. “That bastard, he tricked me! Curses!” The pouch of gold dropped onto the floor under the table as three knights grabbed him and pinned him down. “Samwell Brook, charged for murder, brewing of poisons, and the assassination of the Duke Reinhart” Another knight soon arrived, slightly different from the others. “You! The Duke was a good man, and you killed him. This is retribution for your actions, filthy murderer.” He emphasized on the word filthy, and placed Samwell in cuffs. “Take him away!” The knights then proceeded to leave. Before they were out the door, Samwell looked up, and saw Noira, who was watching the scene. Their eyes met, and he had an expression of surprise, then betrayal on his face.

“Don’t interfere… Don’t move, Noira…” Reminding herself over and over, she was worried about whether they would question her, even if she had no “criminal charges”. Afraid they would look in her direction and call her out as a suspicious person. As if trying to hide her presence, she didn’t budge, not an inch, staying frozen with her hands on her notes, her hood covering her face.

The assassin, a criminal worth five gold for his capture, was now in custody of the Skyblade Knights, likely to be executed due to his severe charges for killing a member of the aristocracy. The knights were gone, along with many patrons who couldn’t handle the atmosphere. “If I had tried to snatch the chalice, it would have been the end of me…” She spotted the sack of gold on the floor and went to grab it, along with the bag of herbs. “Heh… Some thief we are…” Then she left the Crooked Chandelier into the streets, dark from the night sky, loot hidden under her cloak.

“This is… one hell of incidents to report back…” She wondered what reaction, the bandit queen Arecis, would have towards this news.