Snippet #2580767

CURRENT POSTING DATE: 14, Otium - Noon

There was only one thing in the entirety of Valcrest that Evin wished for. He wished for nothing more than to have a better memory. He had known that he was going to be waking up later in the morning and had wished to put out his shoes so that the morning sun could dry them. He'd forgotten, however, and now his path to Newhaven was accompanied by the uncomfortable squishing sensation as if walking through wet moss.
Given time, his mind would begin to wander. Evin would start thinking about where he needed to go and the people he needed to speak to. He also had to think of a way to keep safe while in Newhaven. It was no longer safe to just walk the streets of Newhaven. With civil unrest in the city walls, riots could pop up in a matter of minutes and suddenly one could find themselves stuck in a conflict that they don't want to be a part of. Even worse was the fact that the city guard was outstretched and if someone needed their assistance, they were likely too busy somewhere else to even notice. This meant that crime rates had gone up exponentially; along with that, the number of vigilantes. The city was no longer being run by those in power.
Those who were in power, while they were attempting to do their best, were merely placing the pawns. All the big players were being moved in random succession by several players. The one thing that the powers of Newhaven could be thankful for was that there was not a semblance of order in the revolution. If the factions within the city could work together, Newhaven would be lost, but the commoners were no military strategists. Instead, the common people—much like the nobles—were stuck, trudging through the unorganized battlefield much like a horse trudging through a swamp.
Shit! Evin caught himself thinking about his wet shoes again. He knew the inevitability. He could not forget about the reality of his shoes forever, but it was good to forget about it for a moment, just to ease the discomfort.
It was alright though. The discomfort would be hidden soon. He rounded the bend and saw the spires of Newhaven's great wall. At the entrance to the city, a small band of merchants were squabbling with the guards. Evin saw it and guessed the guards saw it too; the way the merchants dressed forebode an unpleasant air to them. Evin decided to hang back behind the wall of a building that was probably once a farm house and wait for the dust to settle on this quarrel.
He was still too far away to hear anything that the men were saying to one another. Every once in a while, he would catch the tail end of a sentence by one of the shouting men. None of the words he did catch were in any way useful. He couldn't piece together what they were saying. He could only guess. Evin's best guess was that the five merchants were trying to enter the city, but the guard didn't trust them and wasn't allowing them access. The argument started to become even more heightened and the shouts got louder. Finally, the climax. The most heated guard stepped forward, grabbing for his sword. The fight took an odd turn at that moment and the ground began moving around the guard with his sword. A wall of rock enclosed the man. A terrified scream came from inside the rock formation, but was abruptly muted. The other guards quickly reacted, including the guards atop the wall formation who began nocking their arrows. Bellow, the guards approached the clearly enlightened men with an ere of caution. They drew their swords and approached the men, but nothing was going to stop the men from being engulfed in flames. As the guards bellow spontaneously combusted around them, the arrows from above were released. However, a big gust of wind picked up from bellow redirecting the arrows back to their recipient. The guards who dodged the arrows and avoiding being knocked off the wall from the wind were quickly engulfed in flames themselves from the wind whipping the furious flames from the dead corpses bellow upward.
This big display alerted nearby guards to the issue, but the band of mercenaries had made it through the walls and into the city with their caravan before anyone could get close enough to stop them.
At this point, Evin left his cover and approached the doors, but not before the guards got there.
“Stay back. Any closer will be a signiture of your death wish.” The sergeant shouted at Evin as he got closer.
Evin stopped in his tracks. “My name is Evin Bana: Deposer of the False King, former Wolf, associate to Crystal Rivers, and close friends with Mageria of the Black Knights. I have incredibly important business to attend to in the city and come with no malintent.”
“I don't care who you say you are. I can't let you through. The city is under martial law. No one comes or goes without direct permission from the Knights or generals”
“Martial law be damned! I've made a career of entering and exiting this city without being seen by a single person during my visits. In fact, I can tell you that there are about seven secret passages into the south side of the city alone. At least, these are the ones that I know of. I'll make a deal. Let me through the walls and I'll show you the most well known smuggler's route into the city.”
“Sorry. I can't let you in.”
Evin, with his smug look said, “Fine. I'll meet you at the Foxhead Inn. It'll only take me ten minutes to get there, but I'll wait for you so I can show you how I got into the city.”
With that, Evin turned back around and started to run the way he came at full speed. When he was out of view of he guards, he turned right into the forested part on the west side of the southern wall. From there, he walked into a small hunting shack. It was a small room with a rug. He lifted the rug to reveal a trap door and he went into the passage.

The Foxhead Inn was an immaculate hostel in the south western side of the city. What made the place so desirable to most anyone in the city was that it transcended all of the social barriers. The criminals sat along side the nobles and peasants without judgement. Everyone who entered the Foxhead were looking for a way to sit back and relax. Nothing was more important to the owners than to make sure everyone could enjoy an affordable for everyone. In order for the Foxhead made it so affordable was by making it a hub for debauchery in the city. It was one of the few places that anyone in the city could turn a blind eye so they can enjoy the sinful pleasures of life.
Evin had been banned from the Foxhead for nearly half of his life. In his first years of as an assassin, he found the place incredibly useful for gathering information, but even better for finding people. He would wait for his targets at the Inn, waited for the to leave and then follow them out. He'd use the time they'd take, drunkenly walking through the city at night, to find the opportunity to perform his duties. Eventually, the owner of the Inn started to catch on to Evin's game. He could never prove that Evin was actually an assassin, but the evidence seemed to lead to the fact that he was.
It had been nearly seventeen years since Evin had been to the Inn. He wasn't even sure if the old man would recognize him anymore.
“What are you doing here.” The scratchy voice of a man who had not seen a day without his pipe popped through the crowd as Evin walked towards the bar. The old man was not anywhere past the age of 55, but he looked like he could pass at any moment. “I'll kill you if you don't leave my establishment!.”
“Good to see you too, Julian. Now come with me to your back room. We need to chat.” Evin said, unfazed by the Julian's aggressiveness.
“Why shouldn't I just cut your throat and throw your body out of here.”
“For one, the sergeant I've told to meet me here would be pretty suspicious of my dead body, wouldn't you think? Secondly, I'd probably kill you before you could even think of grabbing your knife. Finally, I'd say—given the state the city is in and the type of people who come to the Foxhead—it would be pretty easy to incite a riot. So, either way, you're in a pretty bad position here. Especially since the sergeant will be here in the next five or so minutes.”
Julian glared Fire at Evin. With a grunt, he spun around, and began walking. Evin pushed through the crowds to keep his sight on the hunched back that was leading him to the back room. Julian opened the door and walked through. Evin followed by shortly. As he walked through the door a couple in their late teens scurrying out of the room, covering their half clothed body with the clothes they didn't have on. He shut the door behind him and said, “Young love.” He chuckled, “Can't say I haven't been there.”
“Ah shut up and get to the point.” Julian's voice grated.
“Fine... fine. I'm looking for someone who may be involved in suspicious activity.”
“The Foxhead is the house of suspicious activity.”
“I'm not talking about regular suspicion. I'm talking about things that even the most suspicious characters of the Foxhead would find suspicious. A person or group of people who don't conform to the normalcy of the crime syndicates. They be doing more than not playing by the rules. They wont even be playing the same game. I don't know if you know anything of it, but think of something along the lines of the Shadow.”
“There is one person. A fellow by the name of Wyatt. While there's no reason for me to believe he's a criminal of any sort, he doesn't fit into any group or social class that I know of.”
“The thief.” Evin whispered.
“I don't know.” He must have heard. “Like I said, I don't know if he's involved in any crime.”
Evin didn't bother saying anything more. Not even a thanks. Julian didn't deserve it. He just pulled away and walked out of the room. Weaving through the crowd, he looked for a spot that would allow two people to sit. Walking through the crowd, he slipped his hand onto a table and swept a half drunk mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. The man sitting there didn't even notice. Soon he saw a table that was free. He rushed to it, knowing that other people would take the opportunity to steal it for themselves just as quickly as he wished to.
Just as he took a seat, the front door opened and the sergeant stepped into the room. After a quick survey of the room, he caught Evin, who appeared to have been sitting there for ages, waving the man over.
“I could have you arrested.”
“But you wont.”
“Oh no, I will. But first finish your drink. Afterwords, you will step out with me without conflict and I'll send you to the dungeons where you'll be held until Martial Law has been lifted.”
“And what about our deal. You'll never know about the smuggler's passage into Newhaven.”
“The Foxhead Inn? Even if it is true, I can't do anything about it. This place defines the culture of the city. I don't want to be responsible for the one thing that keeps this city unified.”
“You think too highly of this place, really. But who's to say that this is actually the entrance to the city? Who's to say I didn't just walk into this place, right before you did, grab some guys drink and sit, pretending to have been here for a while? It takes ten minutes for me to get into the city from the passage. It takes you nearly twice that time to get here. That means there's a radius of ten minutes worth of walking around this Inn that I could have come from.” Evin slouched back into his seat and grabbed his mug, but didn't drink from it.
“It wont change a thing. I'm still going to arrest you.”
“Okay then. While I wait upon my arrest, could I ask a few questions?”
The sergeant huffed a sigh of frustration. “I guess.”
“Thank you. There's a pretty prolific thief in this city. From what I understand, he frequents this place from time to time, but doesn't exactly follow the established thieves guilds and crime bosses. I've met him a few times. The most notable time being in Newhaven's castle at the tomb of the false king. It seems he knows his way around the city and doesn't get caught easily. Does this guy sound familiar to you?”
“Yes. In fact, he was caught in the market square on the day before the ball in Blackpond. He was to be contracted by some mercenary by the name of Alexander, but was intercepted and arrested before he could follow the contract through. Been in the dungeons ever since.”
Evin's eyes widened. “I never imagined the guy would be caught. If it weren't for the fact that I know he isn't, I would have believed he's a Wolf. The way Wyatt works is very akin to the way the Wolves worked.”
“His name isn't Wyatt. Couldn't tell you what it was, but I can tell you it isn't Wyatt.”
Evin didn't speak for a moment. This revelation was a surprise to him. He genuinely believed the guy's name was Wyatt. This man became much more interesting to Evin than he already was. He felt a need to conceal his real identity. A need to hide one's identity was usually out of fear of what one could do with his identity. Was it possible that he was more than a thief? Was the thieving just a front for his dubious affairs? Evin tried his best to hide all of this from the sergeant, deciding to change the subject to distract from the whole affair.
“How about you take your helmet off, so I can see who I'm talking too.”
“I'd rather not.”
“Come on!”
“We aren't friends. Now stop distracting me and finish your damn drink.”
“Oh, this drink isn't mine. In fact, I don't drink.”
“Let's go.”
The sergeant kicked his chair back as he stood, then waited for Evin. Evin leisurely placed the mug, which he was still holding, down, and methodically stood from the table. Taking his time to push his chair back and then push it into the table. He then walked past the sergeant, who followed behind him. He followed Evin out the door, where the sergeant immediately shackled Evin's hands together.

The last light of the day shone across the ever darkening skies as they approached the dungeons. Evin made no thought of conversing with or even running from the sergeant. There was no point as he was taking Evin exactly to where he wanted to be. If this thief was in fact in the dungeons, it saved him several days work attempting to find the guy.
Reaching the door, the sergeant spoke. “Commander Josephs here. I have this prisoner to be detained until further notice.” The two guards at the front door simply nodded and let them through.
When they were finally alone, Evin spoke. “Conrad Josephs? The guy that managed to impregnate my recruit. Didn't know you could get promoted to commander for such an act.”
Conrad stopped dead in his tracks. He didn't turn to face him, but Evin felt as though he could read the boy's reaction. “You're Evin from the Wolfpack?”
“The only. Kinda young to be a commander, wouldn't you say?”
“When you've the skills that I do... there's not many people who can stand up to me.”
“And yet you let the Queen out of your sight long enough for her to get herself killed.” Evin scorned.
“You don't understand!” Conrad shouted in return.
“Maybe I don't, but I'm guessing that I do. I spent a good portion of my life raising that girl to be able to handle things on her own—”
“Let me tell yeah. You did great.” Conrad sarcastically quipped.
“SHUT UP!” Evin closed his eyes and clenched his fists. When he opened them, he had calmed a little, but his voice was still shaky. “Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to fully train the girl to fend for herself. That's when I hoped her personal guard would come into play. I just find it odd that after an incident like that that the one responsible for the Queen's death would be promoted to commander. At the age of 20, no less.”
“Gods you are a real ass. How in Hell do you know so much about me anyway?”
“I do my research.”
“Well she's still alive. If you really need to know. She trapped somewhere inside the mind of the guy who's controlling her body.”
“Yes, I know. As good as dead if you ask me.”
“Why—”
“Let's go.” Evin interrupted and started, again to walk down the corridors.
It was only another hallway before they reached Evin's room. It was hardly enough time for either of them to even begin to get over the conversation that they just had. They had merely had time to reflect and Evin could only hope that it would be enough when he said. “We both shared Ella in some way. We both failed her in some way, but there's noting we can do about that now. Valcrest is sick and there are people who might have some answers as to why that is the case. I'm just in the city looking to do something right for this country. Can you please just show me to this thief’s cell?”
Conrad appeared to have nothing to say to the comment, but it seemed that Evin was convincing enough to persuade the young man to make the smart choice. It seemed to surprise Conrad as much as it did Evin. When he turned Evin to uncuff him, the look on the boy's face was that of confusion. A conflict in his mind that even he couldn't figure out.
After, Conrad pointed further down the hall, stuck up to fingers and then another three. After he motioned his hand slightly to the left. Why the guy was only talking through actions anymore was odd, but Evin didn't question it. He knew the message that Conrad was attempting to pass along with these hand signals. Evin would find the thief two corridors down; the third door on the left.
As Conrad started his way out of the dungeons, Evin turned around to him. He wanted to shout a friendly 'thank you' to him, but instead: “Keep on fighting for her. She might be lost, but she's still worth fighting for.”
Conrad stopped for a moment, but whatever it was that he wanted to say didn't come about. He started to walk again. So did Evin.
Down two corridors Evin went and with him, an overwhelming sense of discovery followed him. It brought him back to the days past, where he only worried about what was next to e discovered. Back when he was still a simple assassin for the Wolves and nothing more. After his acceptance of his friends death, but before he knew anything about his friend's secrets. When a dynasty of good friends still stood atop the hierarchy of the Wolves. Well before the fall of the Pack into what it had now become. It was those days where Evin could feel like his place was as a humble tool of Mind and Heart and he could be used as a resource. One that could keep a fair balance in an unfair world and who could make sure that the powers at be were always in check.
Now that the Wolfpack had fallen, he was able to feel that way again. Evin was no longer a wolf hunter. He was a wolf again. A real wolf with a real purpose. Excitement overwhelmed him as he reached for the handle to the eye hole of the third door on the left.
There he was. The thief, in relatively good health for a man stuck in the dungeons. They had been treating him well, that or he was finding a way to treat himself well. Either way, he was well kept.
“Hello Wyatt.”
“Why, if it isn't my good old friend from the Castle. What are you doing here?” The thief greeted Evin as if he were welcoming him into his home. “Come on in, the door's unlocked.”
Evin stared at the door for a moment. He reached for the latch and lifted it without any resistance. The thief wasn't lying. Evin walked into the room and closed the door behind him.
“If the door is unlocked, then why not leave?”
The thief let out a small chuckle. “The dungeons are the safest place to be in the city. It is nearly as hard to get into this place as it is to get in. With a few bribes, I've allowed myself the luxury of being able to come and go as I choose. This is merely a second home to me, if you will.”
“Interesting.” Evin took a moment to contemplate. “And you can afford such bribes? Where do you get the money?”
“When you are as good a thief as I am, you don't need to worry about money.” He said.
“But even the best of thieves aren't rich men. Sure, thievery is dirty work, but it is only the dirtiest of jobs that reap the benefits of good wages.”
“True, true. A thieve's job is not as dirty as say... a mercenary, but I'm not exactly a thief by trade.”
“You're a smart man. With the guise of the thief you can hide a lot of things, I assume.” Evin spoke suspiciously.
“It is true.”
“Such as a name?”
The thieve's eyes darted towards Evin. “What?”
“Your name isn't Wyatt. I spoke to Conrad about you. He didn't know your name, but he knew for a fact that your name wasn't Wyatt.” The thief lunged at Evin, revealing a dagger from his coat pocket. The man, however, lacked proper fighting skills and was quickly disarmed as Evin grabbed and twisted the man's arm. He then threw the thief back to the other side of the room then said, “What's your real name and what are you up to?”
“I'm Lionel. A spy for the criminal syndicates who are willing to hire me. They're foolish to trust me though. I use this job as a way to get closer to the crime lords' coffers. I embezzle the money from them and then blame their enemies for it. It keeps violent crimes up and in the end, produces more money for me to embezzle and then I start the cycle all over again.
They recently discovered my trick and sent their men after me. I decided that the safest place to hide would be in the dungeons so I gathered a group of mercenaries and branded myself as a leader of this new group. A man named Alexander was the first one to approach us with a contract. I tipped the guard off about this illegal meeting within the city walls and purposefully got myself captured on the day were were supposed to fulfil the contract. That got me in here and I've been here ever since.”
Evin was amazed at the lengths that this guy went to to keep up a simple lie. Even to go as far as giving Evin, an apparent nobody a false name for no apparent reason other than to lie to him. “So why give me the fake name? Where did that come from?” Lionel said, “That is the name I'd been using for a while. I was sent to spy on a man named Xypher. He was a war lord with a record in the criminal underworld. When outside of his door one night, he was speaking to a man named Wyatt. I decided to adopt the name for a while.”
“What was Xypher talking to Wyatt about?”
“I don't know. It didn't concern me. Apparently he's somewhere in the dungeons too. Why don't you ask him yourself?”
Evin nodded and turned out of the cell. He wondered for a moment if he was going to ever see Lionel again, but realized that he didn't really care and moved onto other thoughts.
Where was he going to find Xypher? The dungeons were a big place and to find a single person in them would be a challenge, but not too challenging. The dungeons, while they were large were most likely laid out in a way that the high profile criminals would be in a common area in much the same way that they kept all of the violent offenders in the deeper regions. If this were the case, Evin would just need to find the region where these high profile criminals were being kept and it would narrow down his search tremendously. The search radius was limited even further when Evin realized that the high profile criminals were likely going to be heavily guarded, but not as well guarded as the deepest parts where the most violent people were kept. It would also be safe to assume that those violent people would not be placed in the vicinity of the high profile people. Within only about ten minutes, these factors allowed him to narrow down his search to a section of the dungeons not to far from the second entrance.
Carefully, Evin snuck around the guard patrols. Even with his expertise in stealth, he did come across troubles. Hiding in a well lit hall, even if it is practically just a cave, was difficult enough with just a few guard patrols. This area was about had about three times the number of guards as any other area in the dungeons. Eventually, though, he made his way to the far crevice of this section of dungeon. A dead end and the last place where Xypher could possibly be. There was no guards in this last area and a single open cell to the far end of the room. Despite Evin's logic telling him otherwise, he figured that he'd start his search for Xypher with that room as it was the most accessible of them all.
Walking into the room, Evin was met with a shock. Xypher's bloodied corpse lay on the rock floor of the cell. Along side him was two guards whom Evin could only assume came to Xypher's aid before succumbing to the attacker as well. Evin stood for a moment in disbelief as he figured what to do next. He walked over to the body. The poor old man's throat had been slit and left a puddle of blood on the floor which now covered Evin's shoes. Great. Evin thought as he thought about his wet feet. He couldn't even remember if his shoes had completely dried off or not before he stepped into the bloody puddle. It didn't matter much now. His feet were wet either way and now, they weren't just wet from lake water. He sighed as he reached over the old man to see if there was any clue as to who might have killed him. Xypher was still warm. He couldn't have been dead for more than a few minutes at most. With the rock floors, the body heat would escape him pretty quickly and it felt as though Xypher could have still been alive.
Evin's suspicions of who might have done it were quite clear. Who ever this Wyatt figure was seemed to be desperate. He didn't want to be found.
Evin's eyes widened beyond what he imagined that they could and he ran. He ran faster than he had ever run before, ignoring the guards who each made an attempt to stop him along the way. Evin was going to look like he was the one who murdered Xypher and the two guards. It was an inevitability, but it was too late to go back now and he needed to make sure he made it to his destination before the real killer did.
By this point, Evin knew his way around the dungeons relatively well and in no time, he was back to the more than memorable room that he was in no less than twenty minutes earlier. He would just need to run down two more corridors and reach the third door on the left. But as he entered the second corridor and noticed the cell door wide open, he knew he was too late. The thief was dead. He didn't even bother checking to make sure. He knew it as a fact and Evin already had a fair number of guards not to far behind him. Instead, Evin ran off through the dungeons until he was sure he'd evaded his chasers and then made his way outside.

Back at the Foxhead, Evin stood again in the back room with the old shopkeeper, Julian. On the floor beside him was his blood-soaked shoes. On his feet, as a replacement, he had a pair of red slippers that he had borrowed from one of the patrons of the Foxhead who'd left his slippers in his room as he enjoyed the evening activities within the bar.
“Wyatt was here when I speaking to the guard, wasn't he?” Evin asked the old man in as calm a tone as he could keep his tone bellow that of the patrons who were shouting in the next room over.
“Yes he was. Sat in the table right beside you. Thought I'd tell you, but then I thought about how your an ass and decided not to.”
“For someone who has some sort of moral integrity to kick ban an assassin from his inn, you sure are bad at saving lives. Two lives could have been saved today if you'd have just told me. Who knows how many more lives are at risk now.”
“I'm no moral person. I'm just a businessman and I don't like it when people kill my business.”
Evin couldn't contain himself. His fist smacked hard across the old man's face, making a satisfying cracking sound from his jaw breaking. He always hated Julian, even before he had kicked Evin out of the Foxhead years ago. It was nice to finally get a little bit of revenge on the man. He'd probably never be able to talk again. To top Evin's satisfaction off, he kicked his bloody pair of shoes into Julian's face.
With a smug look, Evin walked out of the Foxhead. He was going to stay at the Wolve's Inn that night. The Inn wasn't technically a place for him to stay anymore, but he figured that it would be safe enough for him to stay there.