Tales of the Implock - Chapter 030

∼ Decadent Charlatans and Rabid Mutts ∼

Amongst tents, wagons, and throngs of people milling about the sea of flea markets and ramshackle booths housing peddlers from all over Moravia, a small red creature scuttled in between the much taller two-legged and their many wares, causing quite the flare-up whenever one of them would catch a glance of the mischievous demon.

Nyx was munching on a sweet fruit that he did not know the name of, as he had spent more time running from the old merchant and her wooden stick than asking what it was he had pilfered. Nyx still wasn't quite sure what the old half-blind hag had called him as she cursed him as some "foul fox" - whatever that was...

But regardless of all that, the sweet juices of the orange fruit were something new. Even though it wasn't as satisfying as killing a squirrel, as he now knew them, and then having Aria cook it for him, it was still the perfect snack.

Waddling along, laughing at the occasionally frightened human, Nyx came upon an interesting scene, of which it seemed that all other people veered clear of.

Nuzzled up against a large wall, bordering off the city beyond and the wild outside, a large group of men sat at tables, laughing and drinking away. They were mostly all donned in fine leather clothing, looking more for fashion than actual practicality. Many of the men wore emblems signifying a shield of blue, with a single banner in the middle of the camp sailed under the same symbol.

Nyx was intrigued as he caught the eye of one particular table, sat by men in richer clothing than the rest, their merriment obvious as they were drinking away their aches.

But it wasn't as much the men themselves that caught Nyx's attention, but rather the item that hung around one of the men, a man with long locks of dark hair that carried about him a regality as if a prince. Nyx had seen nothing like the trinket, with its golden gleam and silver linings, framing a slow but constant ticking.

Other than its immaculate shine, there was something else about this odd piece. Nyx couldn't put his clawed finger on it, but he did sense it was more ephemeral than physical. It didn't resonate with his demonic side, but something else.

It was an utter outrage that this puny, stupid human was allowed to possess this treasure.

Just look at that dumb face, with his smug smile and sickening laugh. Unworthy indeed...

The men gathered around the table looked to be celebrating when a group of other people approached them, killing the festivities as contemptuous glances were thrown around, tension thickening the air.

Unlike the fine clothes painted upon with colors of delicate blue and white, these men were outfitted in rough leather and furs, painted in savage reds and browns. They carried the symbol of a snarling hound in crimson.

Snatching a flagon of wine, the lead man, one dressed in thick beast furs that ran his collar and fitted as a vest that did little his hide his muscular figure, and his scarred and rugged face telling tales of his rough life, took one long pull of the sweet nectar as he approached the center table.

"Argh!" He let out a satisfied pant. "Pompous and insufferable you wussy shields might be, but a taste for drink you have."

"Pharamir..." The man wearing the decadent pendant watch, droned, distaste dripping from his tongue.

The man outed as Pharamir lifted the flagon to point at the man who had spoken - specifically at the small watch around his neck. "I always took you for a rat, Raymond. Crawling out of one's shadow to steal a man's meal whenever he turns his back. It would seem, you have not changed."

Raymond smiled sickly, a mix of disdain and mockery on his unpleasant face. "No need for accusing, old friend. It just so happened that we came across a noble endeavor, securing the interests of a most esteemed count. Nothing more."

Pharamir threw down the flagon, making it shatter and spill its content on the hard, well-trodden earth. "You stole our commission, you damn bastard!"

At his sudden outburst, hands flew to the pummels of swords. But a raised hand kept all from drawing. "Mutt, I suggest you control that temper of yours, lest I have you put down." Raymond fixed Pharamir with a frozen gaze, the fake parade of regality against the ill-tempered dog. "It is not our fault the mongrels you call men are so slow on the draw that we beat you to it."

Pharamir showed his teeth, the lines in his harsh face creasing. He fished for something in his pocket that he threw on the ground. Hacking up a foul one, he spat on it.

Raymond, as most of the other men, looked almost nauseated as they stared at the severed ear, the ragged flesh appearing to have been cut by something even duller than a spoon.

"Beat us to it, huh? That would not have been so if your rats weren't to be found everywhere. Even hiding in my own house." Pharamir took a step forward, locking gazes with the decadently-clothed man who did not back down from his wild eyes. "Recovering the pendant was a commission issued to us - and you think you can get away with this, with your dirty trickery?"

Looking back at his men, who looked about as tame as rabid dogs as they stared at the opulent fools, he made a loud whistle. Coming to the edge of the camp, a throng of savage men and women carrying the small colors and emblems, glared wild eyes at the shields.

"Give us the pendant, and we'll let your pathetic band live another light." Pharamir practically growled, to which Raymond's expression hardened.

Yet he did not show any display of fear. The decadent man's face froze to the hard of steel, an unsettling expression to most as he did not break sight with the brute.

"What will it be?" Pharamir growled.

"Uh... B-boss?" One of the men hesitated after a moment, one of the only men by the table whose complete attention wasn't on Pharamir.

Jerked from the situation, Raymond came to and looked at the man in question. Confusion was written all over his face as he saw the odd faces pointed his way. Realizing the collective focus wasn't actually directed at him, but rather behind him, Raymond finally caught sight of what had everyone mute.

A small hand, painted as crimson as if a spindly child had bathed in blood, was reached up from behind him - a red, and clawed hand, that was obviously reaching for his pendant watch.

Finding the owner of the hand to be a dark and yellowed-eyed creature with spiked ears, budding horns, a forked tail, and the stature of a miniature person, Raymond was briefly shocked into silence - to which the creature also froze, realizing that literally, everyone was staring at it.

As Raymond shot to his feet, knocking back the monster and his chair, he drew his weapon. "What is this!? Pharamir!"

"Is-is that a demon?" One of the men piped up, now everyone on their feet and creating some distance. Another voice his skepticism, casting the man a questioning glance. "A demon? You sure?"

"Cannot be, maybe it is just a monster?" Someone else chipped in, silent murmurs going around at that.

Raymond just stared at the small creature that glared right back at him, fist raised angrily as it screeched at him. It was almost as if it was cursing him, yet he wasn't sure whether it was nonsensical or the common tongue. Some of it sounded familiar, but that might just be the wine talking.

Yet, somehow Raymond still felt offended even though he did not understand the foul spewing from its mouth.

Looking to Pharamir, he seethed. "Sending pets to steal the pendant - mutt?"

"I'd never do anything as lowly, I'm not you, rat." Pharamir spat back.

Raymond scoffed. "Like I'm going to believe that,"

As the tension grew ever more suffocating, all parties seemed on the verge of fighting, both bands of mercenaries ready for slaughter. Yet before it seemed that chaos was about to break loose, the rattle of metal and sound assured footsteps marched into the camp.

It was a patrol of guards, sent directly from city gates. They were less than twenty men strong, in comparison to the nearly a hundred men gathered, yet all stepped back warily. "Just what is going on here, gentlemen?" A man fitted in almost full metal armor bellowed, his commanding voice about as hard and unwavering as a boulder.

"This... cur is trying to spell trouble, captain. He even went to the lengths of having his pet steal my possessions, " Raymond spat, talking to the menacing guard.

Pharamir snarled, about to object but the captain raised a hand, effectively silencing him.

"Pet?" The captain queried.

Smiling, Raymond nodded. "Yes, this little-" He turned to look at the small creature again, but came up short. "What the...?" The little monster was nowhere to be seen, as if it had vanished into thin air.

The captain merely gave the vain man a hard stare.

"It was just here! Pharamir, you dog, what did you do?!"

He just shrugged, looking rather smug at the easily infuriated man.

"Enough," The guard captain said curtly. "I will not have any more of this. If either of your bands instigates any more conflict, you will be exiled from seeking refuge at Guard's Cross. I will not have you ruffians besmirch my city."

Raymond looked as if he wanted to object, but the captain made his stance readily clear as he inched out his immaculate sword.

From a distance, amongst tents and people watching the spectacle, Nyx scowled, glaring at the man wearing the trinket around his neck. "Stupid human..." He wondered if he should make another pass at the treasure, maybe at dark, but he was suddenly snatched up by small hands, making him elicit a rather embarrassing yelp.

"There you were!" Aria fussed, hugging his small frame to hers.

Behind her, Eric came up and sighed, relief evident on his face. "Damn demon… always running off and causing trouble," He muttered. "You think we can get a leash for him or something?"

With that, the treasure was forgotten, and Nyx spent the rest of the day throwing obscenities in Eric's way.