The super contenient called Forenth

The next person to enter the King's court was most decidedly not here for a land claim for farming. It wasn't even so much a person as it was three people, and even that was a loose definition since only two of them qualified as people. They were both men, tall and beefy, one with hair that had long since gone gray and a bushy mustache and the other quite obviously his son who looked like a younger version of his father but clean-shaven. They wore clothing typical of the average shopkeeper in the kingdom and matching scowls on their faces.
But the more interesting thing was not the two men, but the person that they held between them in a vice-like grip- or, rather, the Fae. He was short, made to look even more so while eclipsed by the two men on either side of him. His sharp features were carefully schooled into a long-suffering expression, no trace of fear or even cowardice crossing his face as he was dragged before King Fredrick and his mage, only exasperation and irritation. He didn't even struggle, futile though it might be, instead allowing himself to be carted around like a sack of potatoes.
It was, admittedly, rare for a Fae to be brought before the King for two reasons; one, they tried their hardest to keep to their groups and faerie mounds, and courts and rarely ventured into the bustling towns and, two, when they did venture out to cause mischief, they didn't get caught. The young Fae with brilliant, scarlet red hair and bright green eyes was obviously an exception.
"Your majesty," The father and son bowed, forcefully tilting the Fae along with them like a marionette, much to the creature's chagrin. "Sorry to waste your time, but this thief-"
"I'm not a thief," The Fae protested with the groan of a man who had repeated this one too many times.
"This thief," The father plowed on, ignoring the protest, "Was trying to steal from my store. He tried to use this false gold and thought he could get away with it." He held out a hand and on it sparkled four gold coins, all in a perfect, circular shape.
"It's not fake," The Fae said, snippy despite the circumstances, lips slipping into a pout. "It's quite real, I assure you. I earned it. From a job. You know, those things that pay you to do work?"
"It's just your damn dark magic. We're wise to your Fae ways, giving false gold and riches only for them to turn to dust or rocks the moment you leave," The son sneered, only getting a snort in return.
"So, you see, Majesty," The father said, taking over before the argument could restart, "We need your judgement on the matter." The fact that both men would rather string the Fae up then wait for the judgement was obvious, but their restraint was rather admirable given the circumstances.
The red-haired Fae just leveled his gaze on the men before him, unimpressed to be brought before royalty, his gaze only wavering towards Jon once before settling on the monarch.

Jon sighed "There is a simple way to see if the Fae is lying. Use magic to see if the gold is false although I doubt the gold is fake. The reason why is because if the Fae wanted to steal from you he would have just stolen it and you would be none the wiser. I will show you that the gold is real in case you doubt my judgement." Jon walked over to the two men even though Jon was slimmer than the two men he towered over them still. The father gave Jon the gold without resistance Jon muttered a spell and the gold coins glowed then faded in Jon's hand the gold coins remained Jon looked over to his King "The coins are real sire the Fae wasn't trying to cheat these men." Jon looked to the men holding the Fae "Release him." the two men released their grip on the small Fae then turning to the King "I believe these to men owe this man an apology. I also think the coins should be kept by the Fae as an punishment towards these men for their racism and cruelty." The king thought for a long moment then nodded his head "Yes give the Fae his gold back. The race of Man is growing and evolving and this behavior should not be let go without some form of punishment." Jon walk over to the Fae man and placed the coins in the Fae's hand.

Neither of the men appeared to be shame-faced, more irritated, it appeared, by the order than by the approximate scolding they received from their King and his mage and very much put out that they hadn't caught a thief. They let the Fae go and the creature easily caught himself with nary a stumble, dusting imaginary dirt from his shoulders, a tiny smirk finding its way onto his pointed face. It was, in retrospect, and excellent thing that he'd been caught today. The day he'd actually been inclined to spend some of the shiny coins he'd amassed on a whim. Yesterday, the day before, almost every day before that, and probably even tomorrow the gold would have been as fake as the apology the father and son pair forced out, not quite meeting the smaller man's eyes. Not that he much cared. Loathe as he would be to actually listen to a King, especially a human one, it was amusing enough to see two grown men get told off for an almost correct guess.
"Not a problem, friends. We all make mistakes," He replied jovially, lips still twisted into a smile when he saw them tense. "And thank you." He took the coins, turning them in his fingers idly before slipping them back into his pocket. Turning back to the monarch he paused.
"And thank you, of course, your Majesty," He said in an almost mocking manner, bowing low before giving his two accusers a secretive wink and strolled out the door as if he'd just popped in for a cup of tea rather than be accused of cheating and attempted thievery. The father an son followed by a short while longer, dark looks on their faces.

Jon gave a sigh he returned to his seat "Have some men keep an eye on the Fae I have a feeling those men will take their frustration out on the Fae and last thing the Kingdom need's is two men from the race of man killing a Fae or the other way around." the King only nodded Alright I will ask one of my men to watch for him and to only step in when those to men decide to react. Speaking of which we need to discuss tonight's activity. Jon looked at his king "What is happening tonight sire?" King Fredrick Derak laughed hard and loud Don't tell me you forgot your own birthday! You didn't think I would remember did you? Jon looked at his king in shock "I don't need any celebration sir I am fine." The king frowned We are celebrating the day you were born because without you the race of man would still be at war. We probably would have been wiped out if it wasn't for you convincing me to create relationships with the other races. So what do you want at your celebration? Jon shrugged "I will leave that up to your Majesty to create this party I am sure you would find something fun."

Golden eyes flashed as the fiery redhead caught sight of the collapsed tents and scattered ashes, all that remained of her camp and home. "Sabre! Janu!" The tall, slim woman dropped her burden of meat and rushed through, looking for the silver and blond heads of her family. Sabre, her lifemate was wounded in a recent raid and her little blond kit, Janu was still too young to hunt. Sabre's wounds were the reason she went out with the hunting party. Is he even still alive?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan shuddered and shook herself out of her two year old nightmare. Two years ago on this very day, the young werecat lost everything she cared about. Before that day, she was already an exile from her hometown, since her father couldn't accept her choice of lifemate. Since the destruction of the feral camp, she had nowhere left to go and just kept wandering. The advantage to her constant travel was she could look for her mate and son, if they were still alive. She shuddered a second time. They HAD to live! Without them, there was no point to anything.

A small human kit's voice pulled her out of her reverie. "Leave me alone!" the skinny boy screamed as another kit was harassing him. Rowan left her booth at the market and flashed just the tip of one of her knives. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, especially on a kit.

"I believe he said leave him alone," she gave a low growl, proving she wasn't human. The bigger kit, another boy, pulled back and started shouting himself. Putting away the knife, she groaned and rolled her eyes. Just what she needed, someone else shouting that she's a monster and pushing her out of another somewhat safe haven. She hoped it wouldn't happen that way, but there were other things to deal with at the moment. The tall werecat bent down to help the little skinny boy up.

"You aren't really a monster, are you?" he whispered in a shaky voice.

"No, I'm not a monster, just a traveler. Are you hurt?" Rowan spoke as gently as possible, almost purring as she would if her own son was frightened. She swallowed the feeling that pulled up. The human boy didn't seem to notice her lapse of concentration. He simply shook his head and accepted her hand, and she gave him a half-smile, hiding her sharp fangs.

After the human boy got up and went on his way, she sighed and slipped through the group of gawkers to return to her wooden merchant cart in the cobblestone plaza where she did most of her business. The plaza was in the shadow of the castle walls but certainly not inside the wall. Some people would be happy inside the wall, but she wasn't one of them.

The warmth of sunlight and the feeling of a cool but pleasant breeze greeted Dane as he exited the castle, head held up high and a smirk dancing on his lips. After a morning wasted waiting to be put before the King and, apparently, his mage, even the crowded market outside of the castle walls looked almost as pleasant as, say, a treasure trove of jewels or a path back into the forest. Then again, this was where he'd been when he'd been dragged before the King the first time around and he didn't particularly want to repeat that experience. Yes, he'd gotten away with it- nothing, for once- but that didn't mean he wanted to stoop to looking to a human ruler once more of petty problems with mortals. He may not keep up with most of his kind, but he still had standards.

It was while he was congratulating himself on not having been tossed in prison this time, he noticed a miniature drama playing out. Well, he said drama.... It was really just a couple of kids harassing each other before a young, female werecat stepped in. She was pretty enough, if you liked that sort of thing, and separated the children before comforting the skinnier one. It was very touching in a nauseating sort of way.

But what really caught his attention was the cart she'd just been at. Oh, the trinkets were nothing fancy, no gold or jewels or fine silks and spices, but they were shiny and he couldn't resist shiny. So, like a magpie, he found his way over to the cart just as the werecat returned, eyes trained on the wears before him.

"Well done," He commented blithely, hardly looking at her as he delicately poked at her trinkets, almost like a small child who'd found a store full of toys and was given free reign. "I'm glad to see no bullies get off free with you in town. Although, really, the knife was a bit of overkill."

Rowan's attention turned completely to the shorter fellow now at her cart, especially on his hands picking through the odds and ends she gathered on her wanderings. She was subtle about it, only a quick flash of her golden eyes flickered between his pointed face and the slender hands from time to time. She kept her cool and didn't flare up again with her more animal characteristics.

Her voice, when she spoke again, sounded pretty much like the other humans in the plaza, with only the tiniest touch of a rougher, wilder edge that only came from her werecat heritage. "You'd be surprised what these folk can get into," the tall redhead responded to his comment just as lightly as he made it.

Rowan bent her head to meet his bright green eyes. He was a foot shorter than her or maybe more, but it was a lot different than the human kit. Giving him a small smile, still hiding her fangs, she continued, "Is there anything I can help you with, sir?

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Rowan's attention turned completely to the shorter fellow now at her cart, especially on his hands picking through the odds and ends she gathered on her wanderings. She was subtle about it, and only showed a quick flash of her golden eyes flickered between his pointed face and the slender hands from time to time. She kept her cool and didn't flare up again with her more animal characteristics.

Her voice, when she spoke again, sounded pretty much like the other humans in the plaza, with only the tiniest touch of a rougher, wilder edge that only came from her werecat heritage. "You'd be surprised what these folks can get into," the tall redhead responded to his comment just as lightly as he made it.

Rowan bent her head to meet the young man's bright green eyes. He was a foot shorter than her or maybe more, but that difference wasn't as prominent as with the human kits. Still hiding her fangs she continued, "Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

"Oh, I really doubt that," Dane replied with a light smirk. One of the benefits- and downfalls occasionally- of a prolonged lifespan like the Fae possessed was that you tended to see just about everything. So, really, at this point just about nothing that humans did could surprise him anymore. Which was, in retrospect, depressing since he tended to think the worst of them and their motivations and was hardly ever disappointed.

He looked up at her, quirking his head slightly. She was nearly a foot or so taller than him which wasn't all that surprising. When you were a Fae (even one as tall as he) you tended to only get to look down on children and the occasional teenager. Not that it was a bad thing. It was amazing what you could get away with because people simply didn't look down.

"Oh, I'm just browsing m'dear. I saw you had some rather nice pieces for sale. Like this," He plucked a shiny ring from below a pile of other trinkets, something that the werecat had probably seen once or twice before it fell beneath her other wares and hadn't seen the light of day for quite some time. But Dane was like a shiny magnet, so, even hidden as it was, he had no problem finding it.

Jon sighed then looking to his king "I will be leaving your presence now your lord ship I feel like enjoying the market today." With the nod of his king Jon left his seat and left the castle and its walls. Stepping out into the sunlight was a nice change from the torch lit halls of the castle. Jon looked around the plaza and saw the Fae again looking through a tall woman's cart pulling out a glittering object Jon shrugged at this. Even though it was stereotypical for a person of the Fae to be attracted to shiny objects Jon never met an Fae who could resist the sparkle of a brand new copper button. Jon walked to the cart as well not touching but looking over her wares with curiosity to the untrained eye most of these object were nothing but useless scraps of metal. To Jon an historian of sorts he recognized the older markings as well as some of the minor cultural hints that these came from the ruins in Bastion. Jon looked to the attractive woman who worked the cart "These look ancient Bastion. Are you a native to Bastion or did you just visit the country as well as the ruins?" continued to look at the wares with interest he looked more to an old hammer that was covered in mud and old dirt than the other goods she had.

Rowan nodded to the short man. " I believe I found that ring in a dragon's hoard." She paused and dug deeper into the cart, pulling out a slightly dented shiny steel helm. Dragons like their treasures to be shiny. "I also found this in the same dragon's hoard, but you probably prefer the ring. That ring is 50 gold."

While she was showing him the dragon treasures, another young man arrived who noticed things that weren't so shiny or even very nice looking. Tools for guildmasters and some old rocks and ores. The rocks and ores were usually bought by blacksmiths, since some were unique to different places, like Bastion, the newcomer mentioned. She tensed a little at his knowledge of the place.

Yes, she was a werecat and therefore from Bastion, but she wasn't willing to trust humans with that information. Right now the paths through the mountains were clear and considering they were few and narrow, a large human army could easily crush the small valley dotted with even smaller villages. Despite her low position as an outcast and now nomadic werecat, she still didn't want the towns destroyed.

Carefully replacing the helm, she tipped her head to the newcomer and said defensively, "Who's asking?"

Jon shrugged "I am the reason I ask is because of curiosity. From my previous visit to Bastion a long while back I wasn't exactly welcomed there but thanks to a mage there I was finally welcomed. The natives to Bastion are very remarkable when you earn their respect." Jon thought back to his last visit most people would overlook Bastion but Jon found a since of importance to those lands. Jon was in his own mind and when he came to he noticed that the young lady seemed tense Jon immediately raised his hands in defense to an invisible attack. Then said "Sorry if I offended you in any way its just a question I didn't know it was a sensitive subject to you. Forgive me." he looked to the hammer again he was trying to resist buying it but he had already made his mind up about buying it. Finally giving in to his temptation he asked "How much for this hammer along with the other blacksmith tools?" Then looking again to the cart he sighed "And that drinking horn." he picked out a drinking horn that had runes lightly carved into it the horns didn't look special but Jon liked the color as well as the runes in it and he figured he could line it with silver and reapply the runes or maybe just replace the runes completely.

Rowan nodded to the taller fellow's comment about Bastion. "Yea, folks there don't like strangers." Her eyebrows raised as he asked for all the blacksmith tools and the drinking horn. He looked too scrawny to be a blacksmith on first look. Maybe an apprentice? It really shouldn't be her business. He was a customer and customers were her only source of income and livelihood. An apprentice blacksmith probably couldn't afford his own tools though. So why did this guy want them? It was none of her business, none of her business.

Even though she was uncomfortable in the crowds, she came to the human cities to get money, because it was sometimes just too difficult at home. Four years as a wanderer and Rowan still had problems with her second-hand citizen status. At the same time, she was the only one who knew what it was like on both sides of the fence, and probably the only one who could change it.

She cleared her throat to answer the fellow. "For just the hammer and horn is 550 gold, for they are both handmade from quality materials. Add tongs and an anvil comes to 1000 gold. Blacksmith tools aren't cheap, but blacksmiths are a high demand trade, so you can earn all that money back and make a pretty good living afterwards."

Jon whistled at the price he had more than enough of his own money to buy everything with a nod he retreated one of his hands into his large bag that carried a large collection of his items including his gold which he kept in a hidden area of the bag. Touching the large collection of coins he said "Do you want me to count it here or somewhere else? A thousand gold is a lot of coin to count out." Jon leaned in so only her ears could hear "I am not so trusting of people seeing me give so much coin at once. Rumors spread like a plague." he leaned away giving a smile "The decision is your's though I am nothing but a simple man wishing to buy a few thing for his birthday."

Jon looked around and he saw what normally people see as norm or just don't pay enough attention. What he saw was a few men paying more attention to him and Rowan then there should. Jon couldn't help but to smile to himself thinking to himself Greed the bane of the entire human race whether it is a matter of having more coin than needed or claiming more land than needed for the population. It's both sad and humorous. He could at least avoid letting the thieves see the amount of coin in his possession.