∼ Little Market ∼
Chapter - 055
Lost in a sea of people from all walks of life, bartering away at stalls and shops, rushing down the street to not be late for work, or simply just exploring the city's many sights. This was the Little Market. After the altercation at the inn, Eric, Aria, and Nyx have since then made their way to the local market. Like Small Gate, calling this market "little" was a gross understatement.
In every direction one would look, it seemed to stretch on forever. Only by glancing above the shops and buildings, could one properly orientate themselves as you could catch the top of the Small Gate and most distinctly, find the soaring ivory tower that loomed over the city. Rising from the very heart of the city.
That tower was in fact the Shrine of the Ancients, one of the oldest structures in Boreas. Older than even Castle Caldshire which climbed up the foot of The Spine in the far end of Boreas, where the Archduke of Moravia himself lived. Alberto Caldshire III. Lord of Boreas. He was the second most influential man in the whole country, after only the king himself of course.
Walking in tow with Eric, Aria couldn't help but cast worried glances at his broad back. He had barely said a word since the Dregs, and she knew he had been bottling it all. Eric had never been good with his temperament, and as much as he tried tapering his immediate urges, Aria could see when he was getting to his boiling point. She could only hope they would find a distraction here so he could cool down, as he might just fly at the next person who gives him as much as a wrong glance.
As if answered from the heavens themselves, a loud but young voice caught Aria's ear. "Hear-hear!"
A large crowd had formed around a kid atop a bunch of wooden crates. He was holding up a parchment matching a pile at his feet, a hand to his mouth to let his voice carry. "News most astounding! Developments on the Northern Front! Come, hear - come, hear!"
While Aria was more than intrigued, as usual, Eric hadn't even stopped to listen. However, what the kid said next, had even him halt in his brooding march.
"The Crimson King joins the battle! King Mortius I, himself, alongside his right-hand man, The Sparrow of Morrowwood, have set upon the reptiles assailing the north, coming to the aid of the Iron People!"
Murmurs erupted all around, the crowd inflamed by this piece of news.
As isolated as Eric was from the rest of the world, even he knew of the infamy of the Crimson King and The Sparrow of Morrowwood. After all, those two were amongst the strongest people in all of Argon. Every kid heard of tales. Of their greatness and battles growing up, all dreaming to be them. So to hear that one of the royals had gone to the frontlines was baffling. The king himself, nonetheless!
"What does this mean?" Eric leaned close to Aria, echoing much of the bewilderment from the rest of the crowd.
"It has to be a play for the seat," Aria said with certainty. "He must be trying to garner merit for the Magistrate. But to think he would take the Sparrow with him. This is truly unexpected, for it has been long an unspoken agreement that the choosing of the next Sovereign would fall to the Royal Ternion."
Eric just stared at Aria with a blank expression.
"The Royal Ternion - the young princes and princess of Lucia, Cassia, and Moravia." She clarified, lifting her fingers to list off each of the next-generation royals in order. "Prince Artorian Altorus Lucius, Princess Lydia Morgan Cassius, and the Twin Princes, Theodore Morais and Baltem Morais."
Listening in on the crowd, the common consensus seemed to be of relief and celebration, despite the people of Moravia generally disliking the Country of Cassia. With their ruthless practices and materialistic views, their culture was in stark contrast to Moravian values. Well, all of Argon pretty much disliked Cassia. But at least now, the common people could rest easy, knowing the war in the north would be easily resolved. No more fearing that their children might someday suddenly get conscripted to the harsh north to fight against the ever-expanding R'kai.
Making their way out of the crowd that had formed all the way to where they had been standing, Eric, Aria, and Nyx continued down the wide street. "Your uncle, do you know where he lives?" Aria asked after a while, relieved that Eric was speaking again. It seemed that he had finally calmed down from this morning.
"Not really, but since he's nobility, he should have an estate somewhere in the richer parts of the city, right? That woman we asked for directions from before, didn't she mention something like that?"
"The Ivory Lanes," Aria nodded, her good memory readily recalling that.
"Well, it'll be a while before we get there, I'm guessing. This city is just too large." Eric sighed.
Aria's stomach suddenly growled, conjuring forth a deep blush to match her eyes.
"Yeah, that's a problem too," Eric frowned, pulling out the very last coins they had. Barely even half a bronze gael.
Looking around, his eyes were caught by a small lone stall not far from him. A couple of kids were walking away with what looked like piping hot meatballs on a stick. At this, even Eric got a bit hungry. It had been a couple of hours since their modest meal back at that inn after all.
Approaching it, they found it to be manned by one of the oddest people Eric had ever laid eyes upon. He was a huge but short man, wearing a strange cuffed black shirt underneath a white apron. From his shiny bald head to his massive mustache, he was a curious sight. The man was stout in all senses of the word - and as he worked the small stall, making those meatballs in an assortment of pots and pans, he had a jolly smile fixed on his face.
Unlike the disgusting innkeep, this man's smile was actually genuine.
Eric noticed that the pedlar's eyes had a confusing array of melded colors, so he couldn't quite pinpoint in origin. "Is he a wanderer?" Eric wondered as they were about the only other people in Argon who had those kinds of multi-colored or washed-out eyes.
"Oh-ho, what can I get ya son?" The stout pedlar asked as Eric came up.
"How much for three of those sticks?" He asked, pointing to a trio of already made ones as if just waiting for them.
The pedlar laughed merrily. "Oh, nothing boy. You three look like you can use it,"
Pausing from pulling out the coins in his pocket, Eric was taken aback. "You're just giving it to us?"
"Of course son, you three go ahead. You got a busy day ahead of you after all." He said cryptically.
"Wha-?" Confused, Eric was about to say something, but a rough shove to the side knocked him over a wooden crate, making him trip.
"Good sirs, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a moment. These youngins were just about done." The stout pedlar said to the six burly men who had taken Eric's place, sneering down at the much shorter man. Though, the pedlar's friendly smile didn't waver in the slightest.
"You must be new to the Little Market, fatty." The man in front spat, ignoring what he had just said. "-'Cause, you haven't paid your local tax for setting up shop here. Bad manners breed bad business."
As he spoke, his smirk failed to give any credibility to his words. They were scammers and thugs through and through, all clothed in the same set of grey vests with white shirts underneath, the sleeves rolled up.
From the side, a worried Aria watched Eric slowly getting to his feet. She fretted, not knowing what she should do as he hesitantly reached out for Eric. Though, it wasn't the men who were clearly extorting pedlar who was worrying her. But rather... it was the all-too-silent Eric.
She knew that expression on her face, and as much as she wanted to stop him, it was far too late. He had been pushed over the edge.
"Protection fees too, of course. Can never be too safe - these streets teem with the bad sort." The burly men snickered at their poor joke. "No need for any fuss. We're just doing our due diligence as concerned citizens."
Noticing Eric who had already been forgotten by the man who had shoved him, the thug frowned. "Better scram boy, or it'll get nasty for y-"
The thug didn't get another word out as Eric's hand flashed with blinding speed, grabbing the collar of his thick buttoned vest. The next moment, the man's nose was flattened, shattered bone piercing deep into the thug's face as Eric's forehead knocked out his lights.
∼ Little Market ∼
Chapter - 055
Lost in a sea of people from all walks of life, bartering away at stalls and shops, rushing down the street to not be late for work, or simply just exploring the city's many sights. This was the Little Market. After the altercation at the inn, Eric, Aria, and Nyx have since then made their way to the local market. Like Small Gate, calling this market "little" was a gross understatement.
In every direction one would look, it seemed to stretch on forever. Only by glancing above the shops and buildings, could one properly orientate themselves as you could catch the top of the Small Gate and most distinctly, find the soaring ivory tower that loomed over the city. Rising from the very heart of the city.
That tower was in fact the Shrine of the Ancients, one of the oldest structures in Boreas. Older than even Castle Caldshire which climbed up the foot of The Spine in the far end of Boreas, where the Archduke of Moravia himself lived. Alberto Caldshire III. Lord of Boreas. He was the second most influential man in the whole country, after only the king himself of course.
Walking in tow with Eric, Aria couldn't help but cast worried glances at his broad back. He had barely said a word since the Dregs, and she knew he had been bottling it all. Eric had never been good with his temperament, and as much as he tried tapering his immediate urges, Aria could see when he was getting to his boiling point. She could only hope they would find a distraction here so he could cool down, as he might just fly at the next person who gives him as much as a wrong glance.
As if answered from the heavens themselves, a loud but young voice caught Aria's ear. "Hear-hear!"
A large crowd had formed around a kid atop a bunch of wooden crates. He was holding up a parchment matching a pile at his feet, a hand to his mouth to let his voice carry. "News most astounding! Developments on the Northern Front! Come, hear - come, hear!"
While Aria was more than intrigued, as usual, Eric hadn't even stopped to listen. However, what the kid said next, had even him halt in his brooding march.
"The Crimson King joins the battle! King Mortius I, himself, alongside his right-hand man, The Sparrow of Morrowwood, have set upon the reptiles assailing the north, coming to the aid of the Iron People!"
Murmurs erupted all around, the crowd inflamed by this piece of news.
As isolated as Eric was from the rest of the world, even he knew of the infamy of the Crimson King and The Sparrow of Morrowwood. After all, those two were amongst the strongest people in all of Argon. Every kid heard of tales. Of their greatness and battles growing up, all dreaming to be them. So to hear that one of the royals had gone to the frontlines was baffling. The king himself, nonetheless!
"What does this mean?" Eric leaned close to Aria, echoing much of the bewilderment from the rest of the crowd.
"It has to be a play for the seat," Aria said with certainty. "He must be trying to garner merit for the Magistrate. But to think he would take the Sparrow with him. This is truly unexpected, for it has been long an unspoken agreement that the choosing of the next Sovereign would fall to the Royal Ternion."
Eric just stared at Aria with a blank expression.
"The Royal Ternion - the young princes and princess of Lucia, Cassia, and Moravia." She clarified, lifting her fingers to list off each of the next-generation royals in order. "Prince Artorian Altorus Lucius, Princess Lydia Morgan Cassius, and the Twin Princes, Theodore Morais and Baltem Morais."
Listening in on the crowd, the common consensus seemed to be of relief and celebration, despite the people of Moravia generally disliking the Country of Cassia. With their ruthless practices and materialistic views, their culture was in stark contrast to Moravian values. Well, all of Argon pretty much disliked Cassia. But at least now, the common people could rest easy, knowing the war in the north would be easily resolved. No more fearing that their children might someday suddenly get conscripted to the harsh north to fight against the ever-expanding R'kai.
Making their way out of the crowd that had formed all the way to where they had been standing, Eric, Aria, and Nyx continued down the wide street. "Your uncle, do you know where he lives?" Aria asked after a while, relieved that Eric was speaking again. It seemed that he had finally calmed down from this morning.
"Not really, but since he's nobility, he should have an estate somewhere in the richer parts of the city, right? That woman we asked for directions from before, didn't she mention something like that?"
"The Ivory Lanes," Aria nodded, her good memory readily recalling that.
"Well, it'll be a while before we get there, I'm guessing. This city is just too large." Eric sighed.
Aria's stomach suddenly growled, conjuring forth a deep blush to match her eyes.
"Yeah, that's a problem too," Eric frowned, pulling out the very last coins they had. Barely even half a bronze gael.
Looking around, his eyes were caught by a small lone stall not far from him. A couple of kids were walking away with what looked like piping hot meatballs on a stick. At this, even Eric got a bit hungry. It had been a couple of hours since their modest meal back at that inn after all.
Approaching it, they found it to be manned by one of the oddest people Eric had ever laid eyes upon. He was a huge but short man, wearing a strange cuffed black shirt underneath a white apron. From his shiny bald head to his massive mustache, he was a curious sight. The man was stout in all senses of the word - and as he worked the small stall, making those meatballs in an assortment of pots and pans, he had a jolly smile fixed on his face.
Unlike the disgusting innkeep, this man's smile was actually genuine.
Eric noticed that the pedlar's eyes had a confusing array of melded colors, so he couldn't quite pinpoint in origin. "Is he a wanderer?" Eric wondered as they were about the only other people in Argon who had those kinds of multi-colored or washed-out eyes.
"Oh-ho, what can I get ya son?" The stout pedlar asked as Eric came up.
"How much for three of those sticks?" He asked, pointing to a trio of already made ones as if just waiting for them.
The pedlar laughed merrily. "Oh, nothing boy. You three look like you can use it,"
Pausing from pulling out the coins in his pocket, Eric was taken aback. "You're just giving it to us?"
"Of course son, you three go ahead. You got a busy day ahead of you after all." He said cryptically.
"Wha-?" Confused, Eric was about to say something, but a rough shove to the side knocked him over a wooden crate, making him trip.
"Good sirs, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a moment. These youngins were just about done." The stout pedlar said to the six burly men who had taken Eric's place, sneering down at the much shorter man. Though, the pedlar's friendly smile didn't waver in the slightest.
"You must be new to the Little Market, fatty." The man in front spat, ignoring what he had just said. "-'Cause, you haven't paid your local tax for setting up shop here. Bad manners breed bad business."
As he spoke, his smirk failed to give any credibility to his words. They were scammers and thugs through and through, all clothed in the same set of grey vests with white shirts underneath, the sleeves rolled up.
From the side, a worried Aria watched Eric slowly getting to his feet. She fretted, not knowing what she should do as he hesitantly reached out for Eric. Though, it wasn't the men who were clearly extorting pedlar who was worrying her. But rather... it was the all-too-silent Eric.
She knew that expression on her face, and as much as she wanted to stop him, it was far too late. He had been pushed over the edge.
"Protection fees too, of course. Can never be too safe - these streets teem with the bad sort." The burly men snickered at their poor joke. "No need for any fuss. We're just doing our due diligence as concerned citizens."
Noticing Eric who had already been forgotten by the man who had shoved him, the thug frowned. "Better scram boy, or it'll get nasty for y-"
The thug didn't get another word out as Eric's hand flashed with blinding speed, grabbing the collar of his thick buttoned vest. The next moment, the man's nose was flattened, shattered bone piercing deep into the thug's face as Eric's forehead knocked out his lights.
