Mazaren's Circle

Chapter I: The Fin-chaser

Chapter One:

The Fin-chaser

Nor'alin was anything but a beautiful town. Every single brick-built house and factory was seemingly covered in a dirt that appeared to just cling to the very air itself. Had it not been for the mere fact that he was born and raised in the filth, Roscuro would have hated the place more than he already did. Regardless of how much he detested the town, he always found himself coming back. Why? He was a thief, and there was only place where a thief could start; or in Roscuro's case, start again.

For the seventh time...

Roscuro was no stranger to the dark and cold alleyways, nor was he liked or welcomed there. He slowly wandered down the cobblestone streets until he finally stopped at a building lit dimly within. A sign hung above wooden double-doors reading "Rat-cat's End". He cringed. In fact, every single one of the past six times he came to this 'establishment' he did, and with good reason. After all, the place was named after him.

Rat-cat's End was one of the countless taverns that lay deep within Nor'alin. The only thing that really set it apart was its owner. The badger was the size of a cart and just as heavy as the building itself; and unlike the rest of his kind, most of it was fat. Regardless, if the atmosphere of the place didn't frighten you, he most certainly would. This also meant that the usual customers were just as fierce, or simply just as foolish.

Mustering all his courage, Roscuro swallowed, walked the three small steps up to the doors and reached for the handles. "Lucky number seven," he tried to tell himself.

Just as his hand brushed the brass handle, the door itself burst open as a boar was thrown through it, slamming straight into Roscuro, sending the two right into the middle of the street. The second they reached the ground the boar scrambled to its feet – on top of Roscuro – and shoved off the racat's chest, winding him. While Roscuro writhed in pain on the dirty stone, another creature appeared in the doorway shouting curses at the fleeing boar.

"If I catch ya here again, I'll be cooking yer skinned, raw fat fer dinner, ya hear!" and with that it closed the door, stopping half-way as it recognized the rat-cat laying in the street. "Well, well, well," it began with a hearty laugh. "If it isn't Roscuro. Ya know, I had a feelin' ya'd be back again. Har har har!"

As it stepped closer, and Roscuro regained a steady breathing rate, he realized who was standing before him, paw outstretched for him. "Let's just cut to the chase, Lar." he spoke, pushing the, now clearly badger, paw aside as he got up himself. Once he was on his feet, he began to adjust his signature red scarf and brown cloak. "I know I owe you a large sum for all the other times-"

"Yer darn rightchya do!" Lar loudly interrupted.

"But," Roscuro continued. "I finally found it!" Now he got in close to Lar, whispering quietly, "The map to Mazaren's Circle."

There was a moment of silence as Roscuro stood tall, wearing his cocky smirk, for the seventh time, and again, for the seventh time, Lar burst out in his heavy laugh. "Har har har! Mazaren's Circle!? Har har har!" After some time, the large badger came out of his fit of laughter. "Please, don't tell me ya came all the way back here to tell me that ya intend to pay me off with some child's fairytale?"

Roscuro simply stared back at him, his smirk replaced with a look of business. "All I need is to be on a boat with a crew fearless enough to sail even into the depths of Daggerbane itself."

"Roscuro..." Lar sighed, laying a giant paw on his shoulder. "I like ya. Ya got ambition, courage, tact. So here's what old Lar is gonna do fer ya; I'm gonna putchyer sorry hide on a boat-"

"With a crew?"

"With a crew!" Lar simply chuckled to himself that time, reminiscing on a previous deal. One of the six. "An' all ya gots to do fer lil' old Lar is bring him back a quartershare of yer plunder. How does that sound?"

Roscuro contemplated the deal for only a moment. "How do I know you can get me on a boat?"

"Jes like I said," the badger spoke, digging in his vest pocket for something. "Yer a keen one." Finally, he retrieved from his pocket a worn paper he had signed. "There ya go, proof. Now, how can I be sure that ya deliver on yer end?"

"I guess you'll have to trust me," the rat-cat replied, turning out his empty pockets for Lar to see.

"Now, now, Roscuro." Lar tutted. "Ya know ya got to do better than that."

"Lar..." Roscuro's gaze went to the ground.

The entire conversation, Roscuro knew that it would inevitably end with Lar's demand of some sort of token. So, the entire time, his foot slowly inched under a bat-sized piece of a nearby broken crate.

"Do you remember when we used to play Torange-ball on the old abandoned lot near Maggie's? I was always the pitcher."

Lar lifted an eyebrow, confused, "Sure, ya always said ya'd try to swing one day an' never did; but what in the world does that hafta do wi-"

Swiftly, Roscuro kicked the wood plank up to his hand, and the moment he had his grip tight on it, swung. With a heavy thud it connected with Lar's stomach, causing him to double over in pain, dropping the paper which Roscuro quickly snatched.

"Trust me. I keep my promises." he whispered into his childhood friend's ear, then darted out into the night.

For the seventh time.

———

The port-town of Al'alin was definitely much nicer than its neighboring town. Here the air was fresh and it carried a constant ocean breeze, especially in the early morning. Roscuro walked amongst the ever busy crowd of the port, taking in the sights and sounds that he never tired of. On the town side sat countless stalls with vendors of all kinds shouting over one another, vying for customers.

"Come see the finest silk in all of Raylia! No one has cleaner, sleeker, or smoother material."

"Feast your eyes upon these exquisite hand-crafted urns. Imported from Carosa; sold at local prices!"

"Men, you know what ladies love: Jewelry! Don't settle for cheap fakes. Buy these low-priced Paaldin jeweled bracelets and rings."

Roscuro could have just stayed in Al'alin, living off the pockets of the people so easily picked. However, he knew that deep inside he craved adventure. Having attempted to live in the port, once, he knew that no such thing as a true adventure would find him here.

He looked down to the paper in his paws, observing the name of the boat he was looking for;

The Fin-chaser

Sounds promising.

After some searching, Roscuro finally came to "The Fin-chaser". It appeared to be just as dull as the rest of the freight ships docked along the port. Brown in color, large in size, and – worst of all – manned by ordinary sailors.

"She's not much, I know."

Roscuro whipped around, startled by the voice behind him. It truly was a surprise to him, not many were able to simply sneak up behind him. The voice belonged to a otter, as Roscuro found.

"But, hey, if she gets you from A to B, there's no problem." The otter continued, extending a paw. "The name's Torri. Silvanus Torri. Captain of The Fin-chaser."

Initially, Roscuro stood back a bit, observing the creature before him. Torri was much like the rest of his kind; tall, thin, yet muscled. The otter wore a vest of emerald green that seemed to glow in the sunlight. After the short analysis of Torri, Roscuro took the offered paw and shook it.

"Well then," Roscuro began. "I believe I'm in need of getting to point B."

Torri appeared confused, raising an eyebrow.

The rat-cat drew out the paper he stole from Lar, "I own your boat."