《Trinkets》 Prologue After a few turbulent pushes, the door is forced open with a crackling whine. From the impenetrable darkness of the outside, a shivering figure steps into the tavern. Thin lips behind dust grey hair formed a small frown at the cobwebs collecting dust on the barren shelves behind the bar. Rain water drips continuously from his sleeves and pantlegs pooling into a puddle around bare feet. The figure twists the edges of its cloak, splattering a small torrent of rainwater onto the creaking floorboards. Despite it¡¯s best efforts, the figure remained soaking wet and instead settled for crossing his arms for warmth, of which there was none. Seeing as he was the first to arrive, the figure pulled out a stool from the only unbroken table and sat down with a squish. The second to arrive was shrouded under embroidered black linens with a body hunched into a twisted question mark. Only a wrinkled, malformed arm jutted out from underneath the linens to wipe away tears from whatever wept endlessly beneath an inky-black veil. The soaked figure payed it no heed and continued to tap his finger on the tabletop. The third entered noiselessly through a window. It crawled through on many arms, a headless amalgam of limbs which slammed against the floor once its elongated body fully slid itself through the window before pulling itself to the table. The fourth had the appearance of a shapely woman in a ball gown. However, upon closer inspection one would notice the lifeless porcelain skin and ball joints that forced her to move in a jerky fashion. She peeked over the ornate fan she held to her rigid face with a pair of lifeless sea-blue eyes. The fifth was simply a charred corpse with a fiery scarlet crown that hovered over its head. As each new member took its seat, the soaked figure exaggerated his tapping until finally he broke the silence, ¡°Figures the fool would be late to his own meeting.¡± The four remained silent. ¡°Nobody showed up anyways so why should he bother right. Does that joker even know how suspicious it is for us to convene like this? ¡± The porcelain doll answered with a metallic voice of grinding gears. ¡°Silence drowned one, the others will watch.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Lady of whispers with all due respect those gathered here today are no small fish, i''m sure both factions are already observing us. In fact, I bet we might even hear from them soon with how feverent their conflict has been lately.¡± ¡°Nonsense¡± The mourning one croaked between sobbs. ¡°Aged are we that even our names have faded to time. We outsiders have held ourselves impartial as far back as even before the age of creation. Even they, foolish as their feeble minds may be, should understand our purpose in keeping balance. They will do nothing, just like their predecessors before them. Their petty squabbles between order and chaos are beneath us.¡± The mourning one seemed to hunch deeper into its sorrow. The mass of arms shuddered in agreement, and the charred corpse remained motionless. The drowned one, noticing that silence had fallen upon the room once more stood up from his stool. ¡°So we all agree that the idiot wastes our time.¡± As the drowned one rose to leave, an unexpected mock came from the table. ¡°Balance, must be kept. Order and chaos will continue to feud as we stand aside to hold everything together right?¡± The new member of the table rested his feet on the table and leaned his chair back. ¡°How dull, how boring.¡± The man donned the clothes of a filthy vagrant. He was of an indiscernible age and had vague facial features. The only part of him that stood out was a pair of clouded white eyes that gazed through eternal oblivion. The drowned one, unsurprised, grimaced at the blind featureless man ¡°Well if it isn¡¯t the exile. For someone of true sight you sure have a dangerous habit of making us wait. We were about to take our leave.¡± The exile smiled first at the drowned one and then to the others at the table. ¡°Oh, on the contrary I think they will stay. After all, they wouldn¡¯t risk being here in the first place if they didn¡¯t think what I had to say wasn¡¯t worthwhile.¡± ¡°Nonsense¡± The drowned one began walking towards the door, but looked back in confusion when the others failed to follow. ¡°Always the short sighted one little brother.¡± The exiled laughed and then turned to the table with open arms. ¡°Excuse my tardiness friends, some preparation was required for what is to come¡± ¡°Enough with the small talk, out with it Exile,¡± coughed the mourning one. ¡°Our faith dwindles Exile, your debts to us increases evermore¡± The lady of whispers moved one of her blue eyes to look at the vagrant. ¡°Oh, i''m sure you¡¯ll love this¡± The vagrant pulled a trinket of metallic hoops from beneath it¡¯s cloak. The runes on the hoops burned an eerie violet that reflected his clouded eyes. Yellow like Honey The chapel bell tolls in the distance once, twice, and then a last time to signal the end of the work day for the dock workers hauling cargo from ship to wagons then back again to bigger ships sailing down the Mir. The cobblestone streets, obstructed by huddled masses of starved vagrants, soon began to flood with tired laborers. They went about their way home as if the vagrants were only illusions, looking the other way at every turn. Similarly, the vagrants were too focused on their endless struggle of keeping warm in the eternal winter of the harsh north to care. They all looked lost, save for a little shivering girl who scanned the flowing crowd for prey. *Him? No to strong,* She thought to herself. The pair of honey colored eyes peeked through her matted chestnut hair and glanced from the burly dock worker to an older, better dressed gentleman. *I mean, he¡¯s rich enough to afford those fancy shoes. No, too much confidence, too much weird jewelry, likely a magic user, next.* She still had the scars from the last time she made that risk. The girl began to scan the crowd more frantically. The agreement was one hour after the bell, and she was running out of time. In her haste, the girl then spotted short, rounder man who looked at the vagrants with disdain. She shifted herself away from the huddled mass to get a better look, and spotted a merchant¡¯s guild emblem hanging from a necklace around his thick neck, perfect. *Wealthy, check. Out of shape, check. Arrogant, double check* The girl flashed the man a twisted toothy grin, but ducked and covered her mouth before he noticed. This was bad, she was getting too excited that she lost control of her bad habit for a second, but it wasn¡¯t everyday that such a perfect target comes by. While she was crouched and facing away from the merchant, the girl pulled back the sleeves of her oversized coat to ruffle through the many makeshift pocket sewn onto the inside. She pulled out small sack, wet from the concoction of mud and feces it held. Without hesitation, she untied the bag and gave a thick smear of the vile substance to her arms and face. The girl started jogging to catch, and even quickened her pace to get ahead of the merchant without being spotted. Normally, moving quick and quiet through the packed crowd would be difficult, but the crowd parted to avoid her which made it easier. Guessed being filthy all the time does pay off. Finally she was a few paces in front of the merchant, hiding her filth smeared hands and face with her coat. She stopped, twirled around, and jumped right in front of the merchant. There was a slight burning pain when the merchant¡¯s belly smacked her face first, but she took the initiative and locked the man into as big of a hug as her tiny arms could manage. She rubbed her sore face against the man to get the filth nice and settled in before jumping back and spitting on his shoe for good measure. ¡°That should do it¡± she said. ¡°Do what, hmmm¡­.¡± The merchant ground his teeth and his face turned a seething red. Crap, she was too focused on pissing this guy off that she forgot the most important part, running. She ducked back, barely avoiding the grasp of his meaty hands. ¡°Stop that brat!¡± the man began shouting, but gave chase himself upon realizing the crowd¡¯s preference of watching rather than taking action. The girl took the opportunity of the bystanders parting to run to the side of the street, only stopping for a second to be certain the merchant could keep up. She lead the man through a narrow side path and into the back streets of Heimsfell. The light of the midday sun couldn¡¯t reach the impenetrable darkness of this city¡¯s twisted labyrinth of nooks and alleyways. Yet, the girl felt safe in its familiar embrace. It was, after all, her playing grounds, her turf, her everything. Her barefoot pattering echoed forward and the reckless slamming of his heavy boots followed not far behind. Her honey yellow eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and she could see they were one more right turn from the destination. They turned, right into a deserted dead end. Stuffing her fingers into her mouth, she whistled. Nothing, the man approached her with clenched fists. Again, but louder this time. No response, she was breathing fast now. She tried to yell, but instead found herself sprawled on the ground, face pulsing with hurt. ¡°Nowhere to run now huh,¡± the merchant barked. *Grk* His heavy boot collided with her side. She gasped for air, eye rolling back. The merchant grabbed the girl by the collar to lift her small body to eye level. ¡°Yellow eyed freak, these garments cost more than your life.¡± He drew back his fist to ready another blow, but hesitated when he saw her quivering to tears. ¡°As long as you¡¯ve learned your lesson kid,¡± The merchant then gently set her down. ¡°Go, on your way now. Not like I can make your life more miserable than it already is.¡± He watched the girl round the corner, then focused on wiping as much of the filth from his shirt. ¡°Damn, I just bought these too,¡± he said to himself. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is the right moment to worry about your shirt so much mister.¡± Startled, the merchant turned to face the voice. A trio of thuggish looking newcomers that now blocked the mouth of the alley. His legs went numb at the sight of the honey eyed girl who hid behind the largest of the thugs, her twisted toothy smile. Soon, screams and beating could be heard from the nearby alleyways for a solid hour. ¡°Please *cough* mercy¡± The merchants purple and swollen face now oozed tears as he knelt before his three attackers. In response Hugo, the largest of the thugs, brought down his club upon the merchants battered head. Blood spilled from the merchants mouth and onto the cold street. ¡°God he won¡¯t shut up, why can¡¯t we gut him already¡± Hugo, complained. ¡°Not yet ye bald oaf, he might fetch a good price¡± Said the smallest thug, a ragged youngster with a well cut features and light pubescent facial hair they called Snips. ¡°We shoulds at leasts plays with em, ju¡¯s a bit.¡± Asked the thin boiled covered thug and bulbous nose they called Grub, who nervously played with the tip of his knife by giving himself small cuts at the tip of his fingers. ¡°Fine,¡± Snips rolled his eyes, and then looked down at the small girl at his feet glaring daggers at him. ¡°Jesus Bird, he sure did a number on your face there.¡± ¡°Where were you,¡± The girl stomped a barefoot on the ground, but it sounded more like a pat. ¡°Sorry Bird. Hugo fell asleep, I was taking off taking a piss, and Grub was off doing whatever he does.¡± Snips motioned to Grub, who tossed him a small brown bag. He dumped out the contents. He then counted out the copper and silver coins in his hands, divided them, and held out a share to the girl. The girl raised a furrowed eyebrow. Snips hesitated, before forking over a few more coppers. The girl snatched the coins from him and counted them before slipping then into one of her many coat pockets. ¡°Stop calling me Bird by the way, my name is Amber.¡± ¡°Then why does everyone call you Bird?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll slit your throat while you sleep¡± growled Amber. ¡°Amber it is then,¡± Snips looked back at the merchant who was now silently praying on the ground. ¡°Well bouts time we got back to work.¡± He gave the merchant a wink. As the Hugo and Grub each grabbed an arm the merchant lifted a weary head. ¡°W-wait please, I have a family. Please, I don''t want to- ,¡± Hugo bashed a meaty fist over the head, which fell limp. Meanwhile, Amber ran up to the unconscious merchant to take the guild emblem from his neck before silently strolling away. When she was out of sight, Amber breathed a sigh of relief. Her face still hurt like hell and she could barely keep it hidden. She rubbed her sore nose. It was bleeding slightly, but as far as she knew wasn¡¯t broken. 1 silver and 12 copper pieces was today¡¯s earnings. 12 copper could be considered quite a splendid haul in itself, but Amber never expected to obtain her first silver price today. How much was a silver anyways? She always saw adults use gold and silver pieces, but never had the time to figure out how much they were actually worth. However, that would have to come after she checked the traps for the day.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Amber slipped the coins back into the security of her favorite pocket as she reached an area where the jumble alleyways suddenly opens to river, like someone had had parted the slums vertically to insert a vast river. Here, there was an intimidating 15 feet of vertical of rough cobblestone to the slow moving water below. Inching along a narrow passage along the edge, Amber made it to a sewer tunnel that dumped waste into the river. This was her special hiding spot she found by chance trying to escape stray dogs a few months back. An adult stood no chance of reaching her here, the ledge to the tunnel was too narrow and the itself tunnel was only 3 feet in height, so even she had to hunch a bit to fit. If it wasn¡¯t for the steady stream of excrement flowing out she would have made this her some. Thus, she only kept a box with the supplies for her most recent venture here, though it only contained scraps of wood, random lengths of frayed twine, and the discard peels of fruits and vegetables she used as bait. She stuffed a handful of peels into a pocket and continued into the tunnel. The darkness in this tunnel was even worse than the backstreets. While you could at least kind of see well in the backstreets, the sewer tunnels harbored a darkness that even your average slum dweller would find trouble dealing with. However, Amber wasn¡¯t your average slum dweller, she was warped. Just like how a direwolf can be birthed from two regular wolf or a ghoul from a corpse, Amber was one of those unfortunate enough to be given a warp, an alteration of seemingly random chance. Given the propensity of warps to produce monsters, warped individuals are treated as such. Thus, Amber considered her warp as nothing more than a curse, but at least in this case it meant that her eyes adjusted fine to the darkness of the sewers. At her will, her honey yellow iris thinned to near nothing as her pupil expanded to encompass most of of her eyes. She doesn¡¯t do this often because the process stings quite a bit, but it granted her the vision needed to traverse the tunnels. Trudging deeper into the tunnel she found the thick cast iron grate meant to not only keep intruders out of sewers, but to also keep the residents inside. Yet despite the fact, a large warp in the bars ment that Amber could quite easily squeeze her way through. And soon she was making her way through the sewer system to the area where it was dry enough for the rats to make their nests in the side channels. She knew she had reached her destination when miniature hoards of sticks and trash started appearing clogging the side channels. The rats built these to keep their nests and passageways from flooding, but to Amber it was the perfect spot for a few simple snares since these hoards marked paths the rats often took when scavenging or traveling between nests. The rats were smart though as the first few snares were untouched and missing the bait. She replaced the bait and moved on. After the 7th empty snare, she got a hit. A careless rat had triggered the loop and now hung from a twig by its neck. It was a runt though so Amber decided to continue checking the traps deeper in the sewer system. The city Heimsfell was ancient, so nobody knows exactly how deep the sewer goes or what exactly lurks down here. All Amber knew that what distinguished the deep sewer from the rest of it were the strange claw marks along the wall that were too large to be from any rat and an uncomfortable silence that echoed through the place. Even the shin deep water had a sort of stillness to it that was disturbed when Amber waded through. In the past she would have avoided this place like the plague, but slim pickings meant that more traps had to be placed deeper. After all, a girl''s gotta eat. Amber slowed her progress to a crawl to quiet her movements. The deadend air was maddening, but she couldn¡¯t risk attracting attention when she had no way of defending herself. She managed to check 5 snares to get 3 large rats before a screech shattered an uneasy silence. Immediately Amber crouched against the side of the tunnel, both hands palming the stone. The screech sounds like it came from around the corner just ahead, where she had set up another snare. Hopefully it was only rat that just fell for the trap, but her intuition told her that it was too deep of a screech to be from a dying rat. She edged her way to the corner, trying her best to avoid making ripples in the shin deep water. Peeking out with one eye she saw it, an enormous hairless rat ravaging the carcass of a normal rat that hung from one of her snare. It was warped like her, obvious by the fact it was the size of a dog and had a eyeless second head growing from its neck. The second head kept sniffing around, and must have caught her scent because it stopped and began hissing. This prompted the center head to cease snacking and hiss in her direction. By the time the giant rat begun slowing moving towards her she was already sprinting away as fast as she could. When she turned her head to look back, her heart bumped up to her throat as the giant rat rounded the corner at frightening speeds. Even though Amber had a head start, the shin deep water made it hard to move at full speed. On the other hand, the rat was use to hunting in the sewers, and was thus quickly closing the gap between them by moving in great leaps. Amber had originally planned on making to the grate where she might have had a chance of holding it off, but she could already hear its snarls not far behind her. Her thoughts were blocked out by static and her legs were taken by a numb tingle. In a desperate move, her hands moved by themselves to drop the biggest rat carcass from the four hanging from her waist. This seemed to work for moment as the snarls turned to noises of it tearing the dead rat¡¯s flesh apart, but it seemed to have finished its meal rather quickly because Amber could already hear it approaching again.. The diversion didn¡¯t drive it off as Amber had hoped, but it did buy her enough time to gather her thoughts and make it out of the deep sewers where the water was more shallow and easier to run through. This extra speed helped, but still didn¡¯t change the fact that the giant rat was still sounded like it gaining on her. Amber cursed in her head; she cursed the pagan gods and the virtue gods, she cursed fate, she cursed her parents, and most of all she cursed herself. A rapid prickling flared up on her leg as the giant rat bit down just below her left calf. Amber let loose a wail before gritting her teeth. She toppled over and in doing so swung the giant rat over her body. The sudden shock caused the rat to yield its clamp, but not without taking a few chunks of flesh with it. Amber resisted the urge to faint. She struggled to get on all fours just barely in time to block the rat¡¯s lunge with her forearm. The razor sharp teeth tore straight through the flimsy fabric of her sleeve and into skin. It felt like a dozen fishing hooks embed themselves into her arm and started pulling. She shrieked and using her other arm to hammer the rat¡¯s snout. She also started instinctively kicking around which threw the two into an erratic tumble. Amongst the fierce splashing Amber switched from hammering to helplessly grabbing onto the rats head. As her vision blurred into a whirlwind her thumb touched something soft. Unable to think of anything else to do, she bag digging her thumb into this soft spot. This seemed to work as the rat¡¯s hold on her forearm seemed to loosen with each jab deeper. The rat snapped its jaw open and skittered away. This allowed for Amber to kick herself back as well while she cradled her bleeding arm. When her vision stabilized again, she saw that one of the rat¡¯s eyes had become a red pulp with a thick stream of blood flowing out. Seeing that its prey had just gouged one of its eyes out, the rat hesitated to re-engage. ¡°Go away! Sod off!¡± Amber shouted, she was curled up against the side of the tunnel. She clenched her fists in preparation for another round, but the rat seemed to notice this. The rat turned tail and limped off, deciding that she was not a meal worth the effort. Silence descended once more as Amber laid back against the side of the tunnel. The wounds on her forearm arm were shallow, but the rat had essentially shredded off a good portion of her skin. There was also her leg to worry about. Amber tore off a sleeve of her coat into strips and began wrapping her wounds tightly. The wrappings quickly tinted red, but they held up fine. Mustering her strength, she hefted her self onto both feet. One step at a time she shuffled her way to the great and strained her way through it. At this point her head was numb and her arms pale white and clammy. Yet, the daylight at the sewer mouth promised her escape which carried her buckling knees. When she finally reached fresh air the relief was so shocking that it sent her dropping to her knees. Her vision began to fade to a faint blur and she completely collapsed backwards. Her blended in on itself. She found herself in bank focus on the vague blueness of the sky and the cold sweat damping her clothes and matted hair. She struggled for a while to lift herself, but only managed to flip herself over. The wrappings were bled through and falling apart. It was over. Amber relaxed her muscles so she could feel more of the cold wet cobblestone against her skin. She was panting now. A nice warm fuzzy feeling took over. It probably meant that she was dying. She had expected to feel pain, but instead there was only exhaustion. It was as if she had wanted this for the longest time, but why then was she crying. There was nothing for her here in this cruel world that treated her like trash, but why were her tears so unbearably warm. Was she afraid? Was she sad? She couldn¡¯t tell. However something from somewhere deep inside her screamed out. *Not yet* it shouted, *there has to be more* it pleaded. Its silent yet powerful scream filled her lungs with air once more and barked her mind out of the pit. Her body had moved on its own and was inching its way across the narrow ledge and back to the slums. By the time she snapped herself from this trance, she was able to just catch herself from losing balance and plummeting into the river below. Soon, she made back to the slums, and all she had to do was get help. She hobbled to the nearest door and pounded against the door with he shoulder. No response, so she moved to the next one only to be met with with the same result. This was strange, it was near sundown so people should have returned home already. At the next one she tried shouting. ¡°P...please, I need help!¡± Shouting had blew what wind was left in her and she could barely keep conscious with shallow breaths. Her knees buckled causing her to slide down against the door. With her ear pressed against it, she heard shuffling and hushing on the other side. Down the street she saw the door open and a child her age run out. Blood dripped from her fingertip as Amber started hobbling forwards, drawn to the welcoming light of a fireplace she could see through the opened door. Yet, an old women emerged from the door and barked something at the child. Amber couldn¡¯t make out what it was she said since everything sounded muffled, but when the child pointed at her the old woman grabbed it by the arm and dragged it back into the house with a slam. Amber stood still, a wave of silent shock. Her mouth formed a twisted smile. She had stopped crying, but the river of tears remained on her face. Her eyelids grew heavy as did the crushing weight on her heart that eventually brought her to her knees. Cold, it was so unbearably cold. Soft like Feathers Clouds, it felt like she was floating on soft fluffy clouds. Turning to her side, the softness caressed her and smelled faintly of fresh baked bread. The sweet smell made her droll. ¡°Puh!¡± Amber jolted awake. The sudden jerk of movement caused the aching to hit her all at once, which threw her into a violent reel for a while. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. A kidnapping? Doubtful, considering how her assailant had not only left her hands unbound, but bothered to tuck her into bed. Plus, her makeshift wrappings had been replaced with snow white bandages. Calming down, she saw that she was in a dim lit inn room. Additionally, she noticed that the bed next to her own looked well slept in. In the far corner of the room there were also a few knapsacks and satchels were piled up, but what caught her eye most was the huge broadsword lent against the wall next to the door. The sword boasted a myriad of chips and red stains. Perhaps staying put wasn¡¯t in her best interest. She didn¡¯t believe in charity, and didn¡¯t want to stick around to find out what they wanted. Thus, Amber flipped off the fluffy blanket that wrapped her, but immediately regretted it. Her body temperature went from a pleasant warmth to frigid shivering because aside for the bandages she had apparently been stripped nude. Worse, she noticed how clean she was, the usual grime was replaced by pliant milky skin. Her hair also had its natural chestnut color, and was unmangled enough to drop down and obscure her vision. She felt vulnerable. She was now just a little girl with nothing, not even her filth. This brought about another frightening thought, where were her things? Her stuff! Virtues be damned, that coat had everything. Oh gods the coins, what happened to her first silver piece. she took quick look at the weapons strewn around the room. She recognized the broadsword, the roundshield, a shortbow, and a few daggers of various sizes, but there were still blades that were foreign to her. Most notably there was a brutal looking war axe with its head shaped into a wicked looking hook and a spike pointing out the other end. There was also a few needle thin blades as long as her entire arm. Needless to say these folk were armed to the teeth, which caused Amber to feel a chill run down her back as her mind went wild imagining what ruthless killers her captors might be. She had get out of here, but she needed her stuff. Amber climbed down from the bed, trying her best to ignore the aches. A pierce of cold stung each foot as she laid them against the floorboards to support her weight. Her first steps forward were uneasy as she was still shaking off the nausea, but she did her best to move to the knapsacks without making noise. There were three large knapsacks and two satchels. Rummaging through the largest knapsack, she found only basic food supplies: hardtack, dried fruits, grains, and jerky. She also found a collection trinkets and necklaces made from the bones she didn¡¯t recognize. The smallest knapsack was filled with books of all sizes, but never having been taught to read, all Amber could tell was that they used pretty big words. She also found a pair of glasses. She had seen glasses before on passing merchants and nobles, but didn¡¯t know what they were used for. She tried them on, but her curiosity was punished with a headache as her vision was stretched. Finally, was also an small metallic emblem hanging from a chain that depicted a winged lady with eleven arms all carrying something different. The detail was to the point that you could see the individual tears that ran down the her face. From what she could recall this was the symbol for the church of virtues. She knew because they often handed out soup from churches built on almost every street of this city, but Amber never went due to some of the faith¡¯s deep disdain of warped folk. Upon opening the final knapsack she found her prized coat and rags, albeit a bit bloody and worse for wear. She checked the garment. Yup, every stain and makeshift pocket was where it should be, especially the 1 silver and 12 copper pieces she took a beating to obtain. She put on her coat, feeling safe in the familiar earthy scents and scratchy textures. After acquiring her belongings, Amber pocketed the glasses and a few of the bone trinkets to sell later. She felt a bit guilty, but living in the slums meant taking every opportunity you could get. She finished looking through the last knapsack only to find it filled with dried herbs, a few needle like daggers, and corked jars of what she assumed to be ingredients. Was one of them a cook? Amber picked up what appeared to be some sort of a dried seed pod. The shell of the pod was rough and prickly. Holding it up to candlelight, amber noticed a faint glow from the opening of the shell. Curious, she tried to pry it open. Despite it¡¯s frail dried appearance, shell of the pod was ridgid like a rock, so Amber began prying with a combination of all her fingers and used her palms as leverage. The shell startled her as it snapped open with a crack, sending a burst of fluorescent dust into the air. The particles resembled countless of dust sized fireflies as they floated in wisps around her head, their trails of glowing gold reflecting in her big wet eyes. Amber wavered her hands at the particles which were pushed away. At this point, she let out an uncharacteristic giggle. Excited, she uncorked a bottle holding something similar to honey. Putting her nose into the glass container, she felt her nostrils flower as scent of fresh baked bread, her favorite, filled her mind. To her surprise, the smells transition from bread to the charcoaled aroma of grilling meat. The scent then turned soft and milky for a while before going back to baked bread. Too delighted to consider her potential position as a captive, Amber uncorked another of the jars and took in a whiff. Instead of whatever wondrous experience she held in her imagination, an abrasive roasted scent burned its way down into her nostrils. The rampant burning caused globs of tears to begin gushing from her eyes. Half blinded and sniffling like a lunatic, She still somehow managed to recork the jar in her panic. Pulled back into reality by the rude awakening, she decided not to explore further into the knapsack of ingredients, and instead moved on to the two remaining satchels. In the first satchel she sifted through a random hodgepodge of equipment. Rope, rolls of thread, bells, and other plenty of other items that Amber didn¡¯t recognize. She pocketed the few odd rolls of thread but left most the rest alone, unable to think of a good use for the stuff. In the last satchel, there were more of these odds and ends, but as her hand blindly bumped around the very bottom of the satchel, she felt a very familiar flat round shape through a thin fabric. With a heft, Amber pulled out the object in question to reveal three bulging coin pouches. Amber¡¯s hand jarred as the this was an amount of coins the naive mind of a slum orphan couldn¡¯t even begin to grasp. She peeked into one of the pouches; Gold, the bag contained exclusively gold and silver coins. Amber had never even seen Gold coin in her life. She knew that a silver was worth a lot of copper, so she couldn¡¯t even guess how much copper a gold could be traded for. A hundred, A thousand? With this she could finally leave the slums! She could finally see what it was like on the other side of the stone walls that trapped her in here. Her mind raced with the possibilities as her fingers greedily shoveled the coins into her pockets until her every movement caused her to jingle like a bag of marbles. However, a creeping guilt eventually forced her to put back most of the coin; pocketing only 8 gold and 16 silver pieces. She was an diehard opportunist for sure, but even a street urchin like her would hesitate to take so much money from people who saved her life, especially if they were armed to the teeth. Sliding the coin pouches back into the satchel, her hand brushed against something new that sent a chill up the center of her arm. Going back to palm the small object blindly in the bag, she figured it was some sort of metallic container. Despite her wish to know the identity of the potentially valuable item, something instinctual gave her the strange feeling that she should forget about it and leave it alone. This feeling caused her to stay her hand, but her growing curiosity kept her fingers clutched to its cold surface. Eventually curiosity won as she steeled her mind to pull the container out from the depths of the satchel. As her eyes laid themselves upon the violet wood of the case being lifted from the satchel, The room fell still. It was as if all the sounds in the world suddenly flooded out, leaving behind a deafening silence that roared even over her own heartbeats. She was suffocating. No, she just couldn¡¯t hear her own breaths it felt as though she was suffocating. She kept breathing deeper and deeper, but no matter how hard she filled her lungs they still felt stifled. She wanted to scream, or was she already screaming. She couldn¡¯t tell. She had to open the case. She didn¡¯t know why, but she had too. She wanted too, of course she did. It was all she ever wanted. It would have all been for nothing if she didn¡¯t open the it. Her fingers dug into the sides of the lid. Yes, your so close to the end. Everything will be alright if you just open the case. Your perfect Amber. Why aren''t you listening Amber. Everyone wants you to open the case Amber. Open the case. Open the goddamn case Amber. She held the case in both both hands straight out in front of her, but her arms were shaking all over. Was she crying? Her mouth gaped open as every muscle in her body screamed out. She applied pressure upon the side of the lid, but she was too scared to finish it. The sounds of muffled conversation approaching from the other side of the door sliced through the silence like a dagger. The box fell back into the satchel and out of site as her fear gripped fingers went lifeless as if severed from whatever bound them. With the box gone, the sounds of the night sneaked they¡¯re way back into the room and the flickering of the candlelight seemed to brighten. Amber breathed out a sigh of relief as the beating of her heart filled the inside of her head once more. Color flushed back into her cheeks and her forehead broke into a cold sweat. Luckily, the muffled conversation turned into a muffled argument as the sounds stopped getting closer a ways from the door, and the talking became more aggressive. This allowed Amber a few second of recovery, but upon realizing her predicament Amber darted to the window in a flurry of movement caused by split second panic. She tried to lift it open, but to her dismay child level strength fell too short of overcoming what must have been decades of rusting. The muffled conversation began moving closer again to the point that she could even hear footsteps now. Left with no other option, Amber bolted to the bed. She hopped up, stuffed her coat beneath the pillow, and tucked herself into bed just as the doorknob twisted open.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°Not only do you keep giving away your share, you also pick up random urchins from the street every time we stop at a city.¡± A woman burst into the room, she was holding a pitcher ¡°What I do is my business.¡± Grumbled the gramps who followed her. ¡°But Garrot, your business is our business as well. We¡¯re supposed to be a team, you can at least use your earnings on supplies or equipment.¡± The lady set the pitcher down on the nightstand next to Amber¡¯s bed. Amber, who was pretending to be asleep, peeked one eye open. The lady had high cheekbones and her curly ginger hair tied back into a neat ponytail. ¡°What I have works just fine Paddy¡± The rough cut gramps pulled up a chair to the foot of Amber¡¯s bed. The ginger haired lady, presumably Paddy, rolled her eyes up as if to show how often they have had this conversation. ¡°Garot, there are more patches on your boots then actual leather. Your clothes are half decayed, and your axehead is on the verge of falling off.¡± Paddy brushed Amber¡¯s hair aside and touched the back of her hand to Amber¡¯s forehead. The sudden touch of cold pallid skin made Amber jolt a bit. Luckily, Paddy didn¡¯t seem to notice as she turned back towards Garrot. ¡°At the very least get your axe repaired, and stop picking up random vagrants¡± She asked. The shaggy old man looked back at her with a pair sharp eyes separated by a beak like nose. Meanwhile, he bit the bottom of his lip on an old gash that split his mouth open down to his chin. ¡°Fine,¡± he finally replied and broke his gaze. Apparently quite amused by the fact that she somehow managed to get through to the stubborn old man, the lady turned back to Amber and lifted the blanket to check the bandages on her arm and leg. In particular, she lifted Amber¡¯s arm and softly bent it a few times. ¡°Good, the bleeding has stopped, she¡¯s lucky her wounds were shallow or she might have lost function of her hand.¡± She then proceeded to touch their foreheads together. With her eyes closed Amber could really smell the scent of dusty old books from the lady. She tried not to blush as she imagined the lady¡¯s freckled face so close to hers. ¡°Her fever has gone down, but she¡¯s sweating so much. Garrot, I¡¯m going back downstairs to see if I can get something to wipe her down with. Stay here and watch her.¡± Amber felt her weight lean off the bed and heard lady walked out. However shortly after, she popped back ¡°make sure she gets some water in her when she wakes up.¡± she said. Garrot only grunted in reply. The lady shut the door behind her as she left, leaving Amber alone with the old man. From her sleeping pose, Amber couldn¡¯t see what the old man was doing. All she could perceive were his heavy breaths. She prayed that he would leave soon so that she could make her escape. ¡°I''m not stupid you know.¡± the old man coughed from his seat at the foot of the bed. Amber laid still as a rock. She heard the chair creak as he stood up and paced to the side of the room where the knapsacks were. ¡°For a thieving rugrat, you sure left a noticeable trail. Not even Brunne¡¯s pack has ever been such a mess.¡± Amber could hear the man start to reorganize the knapsacks to their original state. Her ruse having been exposed, her eyes clicked open to look at the man. ¡°Better,¡± he said as he finished repacking and turned around to meet her gaze, ¡°the name¡¯s Garrot.¡± The rugged old man sat back down at the foot of the bed while Amber scanned him from head to toe from her pillow. He had a head full of messy longish grey hair marked by random white streaks. He wore shawl made from numerous pelts sewn together, but underneath his clothes were no better than hers. From his neck hung a hodgepodge of stones, tiny vials, and trinkets. All this added up to create a wild appearance, but despite the fact his beard was cut short and well groomed. Even the random white streaks seemed to order themselves. However, what caught Amber¡¯s wandering gaze the most were the pair of calm predatory eyes glaring back at her like some small animal not even worth hunting for lunch. ¡°Mute?¡± He mocked. Pinned under his pressured gaze, she sunk deeper into the safety of the blankets. ¡°Amber,¡± she whimpered. Garrot only grunted at the response, he had revealed a long thin smoking pipe and was too focused on trying to pack some sort of herbal paste into the small bowl at the end. Only when he was finished, he spoke, ¡°So Amber, where¡¯d you hide the loot.¡± A bit more comfortable now that Garrot stared outside the window instead of at her, Amber produced the coin and trinkets from under her pillow. ¡°That all of it?¡± Garrot asked Amber nodded her head, but he shot her a doubtful look. This prompted her to cough up the rest of the extra coin she tried to pocket. Whelp, there goes any opportunity at profit. Amber felt a tinge of regret for spending too long messing around instead of running away, but most of all she regretted laying her eyes upon the violet box, whose unknown contents have yet to leave her mind. Willing to do anything to forget about the box, Amber tried to converse with the old man, who seemed to be getting bored. ¡°Why?¡± She asked. ¡°Why what.¡± Garrot replied. ¡°Help someone like me.¡± She said. ¡°An orphan?¡± he asked. ¡°No¡± She said. ¡°A warped,¡± he answered once more, but Amber remained silent. Garrot starred at her in thought, as if he has mused over this many times before. ¡°Do I need a reason?¡± he said, as he touched the tip of his index finger to end of the pipe. A small spark jumped out and ignited the paste in the bowl. Amber was confused at Garrots reply. Why would he save her without reason? He must have had something to gain from this. ¡°You want to sell me.¡± She asked, trying to probe the man¡¯s face for any indication of his true intentions. The old man¡¯s bushy eyebrows raised as he exhaled a plume of smoke through is nostrils. To Amber, the smoke reeked of tobacco and plums. ¡°We aren¡¯t slave herders,¡± He stated, ¡°We¡¯re sellswords.¡± ¡°Then why save me?¡± She asked. Seeing her persistence for a proper answer, Garrot huffed deep from his pipe. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your time yet¡± ¡°That makes no sense,¡± Amber felt upset, her wounds began to sting. ¡°Why couldn¡¯t you have let me die? What do I have to live for? There were so many others you could have helped instead of me.¡± ¡°Like I said, it wasn¡¯t your time yet.¡± said Garrot. ¡°I don''t understand¡± Amber said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen death many times, child. I¡¯ve seen the peace that comes to folks just before they die, that moment of realization, that dejected acceptance. Yet, you were different, there was still a fire in you.¡± The chair creaked as Garrot leant back ¡°I picked you up because I wanted to give you a proper burial so that you may rest in peace. Yet, everytime I thought you were gone, that little heart of yours would gasp for another breath. Your body was holding on to that flickering flame, refusing to let it go.¡± Amber sat silent, not knowing how to reply. ¡°Wasn¡¯t your time yet¡± repeated Garrot. The two sat in awkward silence as Amber remembered the distinct feeling of unfulfillment she had before being saved. She wallowed in the idea that she was nothing more than some nameless orphan destined to live and die in some alleyway. Were these slums all she was destined to know? She was so busy trying to survive day to day to even picture the possibility of leaving Heimsfell. Hells, she didn¡¯t even know what the closed off noble districts looked like. Amber lied swamped in confusion until the rumbling of her stomach broke the silence. ¡°You¡¯ve lost a lot of blood.¡± He pointed to the pitcher of water on the nightstand. ¡°I¡¯ll get you some food later, so just drink some water for now.¡± Having no reason to disobey, Amber took to the pitcher and tried to pour water into a mug. However, the weight of the pitcher was too much for her injured arm, so she was forced to lean the pitcher on the nightstand. She then held the wooden mug up to her mouth, trying her best to focus on the cool refreshing water flowing down her throat. Yet, thoughts of her helpless fate still haunted her, but strangest of all the violet case kept coming to mind. The whispers in the back of her mind stopped pleading, and instead began convincing her that whatever lied inside the box was the answer to her troubles. That if she just clicked opened the case, it would help her escape from the slums, it would end her constant hunger, and she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about money ever again. No, these are lies. They have to be lies. It¡¯s messing with her mind. She wanted to ask Garrot about it, but for some reason her lips were sealed. It seemed like Garrot was going to say something first until the door jarred open and in came Paddy, Who nearly dropped the tray she was carrying when she saw Amber. ¡°She¡¯s warped! You didn¡¯t tell me you brought back a warped!¡± Paddy screamed, before diving into a rant at how Garrot had crossed a line, and how this was one of many last straws. ¡°So what if she¡¯s got different looking eyes¡± Garrot muttered. ¡°So what? So what! She¡¯s been touched by that corruption! Look at how it¡¯s pupils are moving, she¡¯s not human anymore. It¡¯s only a matter of time loses her mind and starts attacking us. Oh virtue¡¯s mercy, I helped bath that thing. She might have corrupted me as well.¡± She wailed ¡°Calm god¡¯s sake down,¡± said Garrot ¡°Those are only myths. Plus, we¡¯ve killed many things more dangerous than some owl eyed child.¡± Amber grew uncomfortable at the shift in conversation towards killing her. ¡°Garrot, when things get warped they become monsters. Doesn¡¯t matter if they use to be docile, they become killers. Who¡¯s not to say that it won¡¯t try to slit our throats when we aren''t looking. Oh gods, are those coins on the bed. Did it steal from us!¡± Paddy grew hysteric, and Garrot tried to calm her down. Amber hated to admit it, but Paddy was partially right. Not just the freakish eyes, she was a lier, a thief, and a scoundrel. She couldn¡¯t even count the number of times she had lead people to their deaths at the hands of thugs and cutthroats, or looted bodies looking for quick money. Mabey she was a warped monster. She wasn¡¯t like other orphans who begged and starved to death. At this point Paddy had mostly calmed down and sat on the far end of the bed next to Amber¡¯s bed. Despite this apparent aversion to warped folk, Paddy still gave Amber the tray of food and checked the state of her bandaging, albeit at an emotional distance. Paddy¡¯s coldness didn¡¯t bother Amber, she was used to having her existence ignored or distained. Paddy had brought a thick stew of root vegetables and rat meat as well as a few biscuits of fresh hardtack. Her diet usually consisted of stale breads and rotting produce sold for cheap. She couldn¡¯t even try to eat the rats she trapped in the sewer because she had no way of cooking them and the income from selling them was too vital. Thus, Amber couldn¡¯t resist the rich scent of warm food and started shoveling the food down her gullet as soon as it was set before her. The slight floury taste of the biscuits, the sweet soft roots, and the stringy meat all drove her scuff down the meal until she had to pound her chest to get a piece of food in her throat unstuck. ¡°Stop eating like a starved animal before you choke yourself,¡± Paddy grimaced at Amber¡¯s eating habits, ¡°Heavens above, how could something so small eat so much¡± Garrot chuckled at this, ¡°eats just like Brunne.¡± This caused Paddy to give Garrot a look that showed she didn¡¯t think it was funny. ¡°Speaking of Brunne, we¡¯re gonna have to have a little discussion about fixing your little habits when he gets back from turning in that bounty¡± said Paddy. The two made proceed to make small talk for a while. Amber didn¡¯t notice what they were saying as she was too entranced in licking her plate clean. As she savored the satisfying feeling of a full stomach warming your insides, she listened to the two talk. She didn¡¯t understand most of the details, but it appeared that they were planning a big trip and a few jobs as they rested here in Heimsfell. This conversation continued until nightfall when Paddy relented to let Amber stay with them for a few days as Garrot tried to find a better solution than leaving Amber back out on the streets. This came as a pleasant surprise to Amber because this meant that she could enjoy this bed for a bit longer. She fell asleep to the thoughts that things might finally be going her way. That night she dreamt that rats ate her alive.