With Holy Flame and Bastard Blade

Minnow - 2

The cold is biting when Minnow leaves the warmth of the tent. He can hear the shuffle of fabrics behind him. He tries not to picture what Eris looks underneath her gowns. It proves to be a difficult task. He lets out a breath, watching it turn to fog in the cool morning air. He should've asked to stay longer in her presence.

He walks to the nearest tavern, Pit's Poison. The rank building has been on its final leg for quite some time. Every time he enters he worries it might fall apart on top of him. Yet, it garners many visitors during the evening hours. Even now, there are people beneath its roof. But the morning light will soon draw them away. He hasn't much time to ask about the Bastard.

The foul stench of vomit and ale greets him upon entry. He chokes on his first inhale, blinking away the tears in his eyes. He looks around and sees few people of interest. Lowly men and several brothel workers. One man is passed out in a puddle of his own drool, another plays cards alone in the back corner. The women drink from large goblets. They laugh as one spills it down the center of her worn, red gown. It is not a place Minnow likes to frequent.

The bartender looks up as Minnow enters. "If it isn't the panther of the pits," he large belly wobbles with his laughter. "Dare you drag yourself down to my place?"

Minnow walks over, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. "You know business alone can bring me to your wreck of a tavern, Peter." He glances around, barely raising an eyebrow. "I've heard whispers about a certain bastard returning to the Pits." No one moves or inclines their ear to listen. "Are the whispers true?"

Peter crosses his arms and rests them against his belly. "Might be, but there is always talk of our favorite bastard." Minnow gives a slight roll of his eyes. "The boy has killed many high officials," he says. "I think he enjoys the kill more than the gold."

He's heard similar tales. The Bastard has carried out jobs only to dump gold in fountains and step aside as poor and rich alike scurry to retrieve the pieces. "Are the rumors true or not, Peter? I haven't time for your ramblings."

Peter glances toward the women. Minnow follows his gaze. They offer nothing significant. "His favorite was here the night before last, having a drink. But she left rather fast, almost like she was late for something," he says, setting heavy hands against the counter to lean closer. Minnow grimaces at the rancid breath. "If anyone has heard from the Bastard, it's her."

With a nod, Minnow pulls a few coins from his purse and drops them on the bar. "Send her my way if you meet her before I do," he mutters and takes his leave.

He pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulders when he steps outside. The morning is still cast in shades of grey. He sighs and begins walking. The upper class whores won't linger around the Pit, the Bastard's woman will be holed up somewhere cozy and rich. The Bastard certainly has expensive tastes.

The streets widen the closer he gets to the heart of the citadel. There is green and color here, flowers and fountains. The cobblestone shines, unlike the cobblestone he is used to, the ground covered in grime and several layers of dirt. There are no bloodstains here. The Pit earned its name for good reason. If not for Eris, Minnow might think of cheating his way into a finer class of living.

He notes the way people move more easily, freer. They don't hold their purses close to their chests, or yank their children steadily past. It is a physical ache to walk away from easy picks. The people here trust more and worry less, but they also have guards posted evenly. He only sees kingdom guards in the Pits when they desire a cheap lay and ale. He grimaces, thinking of how quick some have been to fight over a lay with Eris.

"Good morning, sir!" The high voice of a child jerks him from his thoughts. He turns to see a small boy, maybe eight-years-old, with a handful of flowers. "Flower for your lady? A copper a piece! A steal, might I say."