The soft grinding of wood against stone made him grit his teeth slightly as he watched the armored men push open the large, wooden gate in front of him; a sight that he has seen plenty of times over the past four months since he arrived here with nothing to his name with only rags on his body. The man nodded to the guard who stopped him before, Captain Reinhold if he remembered correctly, next to him.
"Move along now," the guard ordered, returning his nod.
With the gesture returned and with the approval to enter, he reached down and gripped the rough wooden handles, lifting them up off the ground. Taking a deep breath, the man once known as Gavin Laforet de Mevius, or what many know him as
Dexicos, strode through the now open gatehouse, heading down the large cobblestone road to his destination as always: the marketplace.
The early morning sun had finally peaked over the large mountains when Gavin had arrived at the edge of the marketplace, where only a few small and rickety stalls were built, plenty of them only barely being held up by the uneven, rotten wood. Many of these stalls were for the poor residents of the city, or to the unintelligent and greedy noble looking for cheep prices on goods, only to find out later they were awfully made or fake. Gavin nodded in greeting to the few faces that he has talked to in the past; pleasantries weren't exchanged, as he had learned that many don't care about false politeness. Gavin returned his attention to ahead of him and continued down the worn road, looking about at the bright white stone buildings that glowed in the morning sun. The buildings themselves were old, though Gavin was unsure of how they had kept their bright and welcoming shine to them. There was no doubt that the city was beautiful. However, he wasn't naive. He knew it was a front, an illusion to what really happens here. The corruption of not only the nobles, but the people themselves that have been enslaved by the rich.
Ever since the kingdom fell to Prince-... King Laire's rule, the nobles have grew in power, while the common man was reduced to nothing. Yet, everyone seemed to loved him, something that he had no idea why or how, only that it seemed that only he and the few others, like the poor and jobless, could see through it. The slow decline of peace and prosperity that once held the kingdom in a warm blanket was disappearing, while cunning and violence seemed to be replacing it. Gavin could only imagine what Brighton, the large city that he hailed from, was like now.
Gavin continued forward, until reaching a small gap between two oddly looking stalls. Steering his cart, he pulled over to a small section of free space between them. Gavin knew both of the owners, one being a well known conman, who sells whatever he can get his hands on that is more than likely either counterfeit, or stolen. The other being older man who sold ironware, which seemed to be either ingots themselves or dinnerware, to make his living. Letting the thoughts come to an end, he slowly and carefully set the rough wooden handles down on the worn stone, not wanting his cargo tip over. Gavin stepped around the cart, grabbing the rough and thick rope that held down a dirty and ripped cloth. Untying it, Gavin threw the cloth over, folding the cloth to the other side of the cart, now displaying the large pile of freshly cut timber stacked neatly in a pile.
Gavin looked over the semi-large pile of freshly cut wood in the back of the cart, taking a quick count to see if any have been stolen or maybe had fallen out during the trip. He nodded to himself as he counted the same number of timber when he did back at his small cottage. Gavin grinned, thankful that nothing had happened on his trip to the city and in the shady streets. As the sun began to raise itself, so did the people of the city. Soon, the roads were cramped with men, women and children alike, all there to buy and exchange goods. So is the life of a city.
~A few hours later...~
Frowning in disappointment, Gavin retied the old cloth over the almost untouched pile of timber, careful not to nick the worn fabric anymore than he needed to; the amateurish patches that were sewn into the cloth to cover up any rips were a testament to the treatment of it in the past. Sighing heavily, he looked at the retreating forms of the many patrons that could have been valuable and much needed customers. He had forgotten a small oversight: winter was nearly over, with spring was peaking it's wonderful head around the corner. He had hoped to get a few paranoid buys from the nobles thinking that there might be a few more cold days left, but it was for naught. Gavin knew that his main source of income wasn't going to help him any longer.
After double checking the ropes, Gavin grabbed the carts handles, pulling out of his little section and began heading back the way he came toward the west gatehouse, passing by the left-over shoppers that either came late, or wanted to pick up scraps from whatever was left for a cheaper price. Gavin snorted mentally, he figured with the people that he had unfortunately met here, the noblemen stall owners won't take lowered prices for anything, and the poor owners would probably increase the price, seeing if the buyers were desperate enough to get something before it was to late to buy. Gavin shook his head, wondering if he was heading down that same path now. There were a few times where his selfishness had gotten to him when a few nobles wanted to buy his timber, seeing as how the richer business men knew that wood was valuable during winter, in which prices sky rocketed. Gavin knew he deliberately increased the price just fro the fact due to the snobbish accents and fancy clothes. A small part of him relished in their expressions when he told them he wanted 5 gold a piece, which he knew was cheaper then what the others were offering, but still a high price. They huffed, irritated that a peasant would dare stand up to there piercing and judging faces, as if they should have already owned the much needed wood to keep their large manors well heated. Gavin smirked to himself, glad he could take down some nobles a peg or two.
With those thoughts in mind, Gavin slowly made his way back down the cobblestone path, moving through the groups that still walked the roads with as much grace as he could. The nobles sneered at him, of course, not moving from his path only making him have to move the cart around them, the commoners surprisingly enough moved out of the way for him, as generally peasants and poor people were still considered to be underneath them, and many had not hesitated to use that to grate on his nerves. Though, he didn't take this to mind at the moment, as Gavin almost didn't notice that he was now alone on the once very busy street.
He stopped immediately, taking a few moments of silence to look about at the dark windows and the few nearby alleyways that were still covered in darkness. Gavin set down the handles slowly, before swiftly rushing over to the side of the cart to grab one of the two hatches that hung there; he wasn't stupid enough to come here unarmed. Gavin slowly returned to the front of his cart, putting his back against the wood, his weapon at the ready to attack any who dare try to attack him. At the moment, Gavin had wished he had his shield for extra protection, but knew it would be impossible. All of... that was gone now, along with his sword and armor. Gritting his teeth, he simply stood still and waited, he wasn't going to go chase his possible non-existent attackers if nothing happened, or his eyes and ears played tricks on him. Another few minutes had passed before Gavin shook his head, chuckling softly.
"I'm insane," he muttered, secretly relieved that nothing happened. He turned, walking around to the side of the cart, where he began reaching out to put his hatchet back-
"Go away!"
Gavin whipped back around, his weapon ready once more at the sudden shout. A woman's shout, he figured, and from the sound of it, one in trouble. Gavin hesitated a moment, unsure if he should intervene in something that more then likely wasn't his buisness. Maybe a noble getting robbed? Or maybe a poor commoner running away from the guard? However, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him to investigate. Gavin took a breath, moving forward toward where he thought the shout came from. Working his way through the alleyways and back roads, he was close enough to hear voices of not only the woman, but a man as well. The voices were still somewhat muffled, only when Gavin turned the last corner did he see the full scene. A dark haired man who was armored from head to toe in steel was looking up in a tree, though Gavin was unable to see who, he guessed it was the woman that shouted from earlier. Behind him, two soldiers had their bows drawn, pointed to the spot where he presumed the woman was hiding from. Gavin took a moment to glance at the armor, trying to see any symbols that he could recognize to see if it was part of the city's guard or not. Gavin frowned, not reconizing the armor the man wore as one to the city's guard. It was... too shiny, too new. The same could be said to the other two soldiers, their leather armor shining bright from probably a recent polish. Keeping himself down, he stalked a few steps forward, using the midday shadow in the alleyway to keep himself hidden from the armed men.
The two bow wielding archers only seemed to be wearing leather, with steel boots and gauntlets, which matched the fully armored man. This was odd to Gavin, as only Royal soldiers did that. Another observation that he noted was that neither of them wore any sort of head protection, nor any swords or knifes, and they stood almost shoulder to shoulder to each other. Before Gavin could observe anything further, the fully armored man spoke again.
"Shoot her down, lads."
It all happened so fast.
He didn't know why he decided then to act, nor the reason that he felt pure dread shoot up his spine at the command, but he did. Quickly thinking, he rushed out of the alleyway, holding his hatchet steadily as he rushed to the first archer. Using his forward momentum, he lashed out with his hatchet, using the blunt side of it to smash the unsuspecting man's skull in. Gavin didn't note the crushing sound of bone against iron, nor did he register the sudden blood splatter against his skin. He continued forward, using once again his momentum to bring the hatchet back, this time the bladed side, into the thigh of the now aware second archer. Gavin quickly ripped out the hatchet, turning to face the leader.
By now, the leader of the small group turned around, shocked at seeing both of his men down on the ground. He already knew one of them was dead, the gash in his head and pool of blood evidence to that already. The second one was already close to meeting the first one's fate as the blood pumped out copious amounts of blood out of the wound on his thigh. He drew his sword, looking at the fool who dared to mess with Prince Laire's affairs. The man took a quick look over the man, a smirk on his lips as his arrogance grew at the sight.
"A filthy peasant wants to be the hero, eh? You really think you can best me?" the man taunted.
Gavin took careful measure to keep his face looking blank, not wanting to give the man anymore reason to taunt him. He did have one thing right, however: there was no way Gavin could fight him in one versus one combat. He wasn't going to underestimate the man, figuring he knew how to use that sword and how to move in full armor. Even with the added movement and agility that his clothing gave him, the man was completely armored, had longer reach and swing then he did. Getting up close would be suicide.
He looked at the man, his brow furrowing as he thought of something. Even if it doesn't work, it will give time for whoever was up in the tree to run.
"It will be a peasant that will laugh at your corpse, you damned coward!" he taunted back.
Getting the desired effect, the man scowled, growing in anger as he lashed out at him with his sword. Gavin took a step back, avoiding the swing before he turned around, running back through the alleyway to setup his second part. Thankfully, the armored man followed him, watching Gavin as he turned the corner. Gavin stopped immediately, pushing his body up against the cold stone as he waited for the clanking footsteps to get closer. Holding his hatchet tightly, his heart beating a mile a minute, he heard the footsteps almost reaching the corner. Stepping out, he lashed out with his hatching, his pursuer looking at him in surprise before the bladed end of the hatchet met the side of his head, easily embedding past the bone and into the man's brain. The now dead leader's momentum carried him a few steps more before his body's muscles relaxed, his corpse falling to the ground. Gavin leaned against the stone in relief, thankful that his improvised on-the-spot plan had worked. Taking a few shaky breaths to calm himself from the almost forgotten feeling of the rush of battle, Gavin walked forward, yanking out the hatchet of the dead man's head.
Walking slowly back through the shadowed alleyway, he approached the tree cautiously, unsure if the woman left or not.
"Hello?... Madam? Are you hurt?" he called out tentatively.
Wind whistled past her ears and through dark, dirty hair with each force of her legs, each forward push that threw her into a run. She had been escaping for hours without end, and no matter which direction she went the men of her brother's guard had never ceased to continue their chase. In the distance she heard the barking of ruthless hounds, the shouts of soldiers promised glorious rewards for the return of their princess to the capital city of Brighton. She would not let them have their gold of their glory so long as her muscles still had energy to keep life a hopeful risk. There was too much at stake to falter now. The fate of her father's kingdom hung by a thread, and it would end the second a noose tightened around her neck under the sights of gods and men. Dashing through a thrush of tall bushes, she gave a small curse as branches clung and tore at her skin, drawing blood that dripped down her arms and legs. There was no time to stop.
