The candle light was preceded by light footsteps; not a she-bitch, because the creaking woodwork was a slight too noisy for one of them, but more like a skinny he-bastard. Regardless, Gukb threw himself behind a large upright crate, cursing as he realised his crossbow was still outside on the roof.

"John, are you back here already?" the he-bastard called.

Gukb reached to what passed as his belt, and quietly drew Red Rust from its holey sheath. He didn't want to murder anyone, not again anyway, but he was not above defending himself. Pressing his back as much as he could against the crate, he watched the corner of his cover as the candle light grew in prominence.

"If he reaches for somethin', then I be stabbin', if he runs, then I be runnin' too." Gukb thought to himself, as if the words constituted a concrete plan.

Tirarian let the bidding go up a little, not wanting to bloom early. She told herself she was definitely not spending more than 80gp for a helping hand.
The bustle didn't spark up much for this one. Although well toned, a beaten slave was like a lame donkey to most people. The Gnome figured they probably had their eye on the buxom elf maiden down the line, indeed some were even calling for this 'slab of spoiled meat' off the pedestal. "7 gold pieces." cried out a particularly well spoken accent, though from her low perspective she had no chance of seeing who it was. While a couple of prices flew by she scrambled up a couple of nearby barrels
"10!" she got her hands round the lip of the container,
"20!" she slowly got her heavy boots on top of the thing
"25!" balancing herself she let out her own cry, making sure to be spotted
"30!" Her voice rang over the crowd, noting the noble accented individual in the midst of the crowd. He was quite something to look at, his styled hair and suave look making it past his displeasure, to which she could only attribute towards the unsavoury crowd that always boiled forth onto the streets at this time
Everybody brings coin to a slave market, and she could guarantee he wouldn't make it out of tonight without missing a couple of good pieces. He may be clutching a rapier and a young girl, but there was always some fool who wanted to try their hand. She could practically see a mugging off on the other side of the square. That wasn't her fight though, as more voices brought her attention back to the slave. Bidding already slowed, it was likely it would be her and this noble soon...

"Lysander, I simply don't know anymore."
The elven maiden continued to fasten her horse's reigns to a post just outside the location. The Jolly Hippogriff. Her uncle's sin. She'd told Pucksy to keep him off the stuff. She'd told him more than once. Corinne had told the man a billion times, and still she doubted he'd even paid heed to her beyond joking about it to make her feel better.
"He better not be buying the 'nectar' he speaks so fondly of again. I don't know what I'll do if he keeps going on like this. There'll be a day when the hunt isn't good, and there are better hunters, and...and we won't make it then."
The stallion blinked over at his rider with big brown eyes, and she moved a little closer to stroke his muzzle, gazing off towards the tavern blankly with a dozen or so thoughts all taking her mind at once. The one day when they wouldn't have enough. What kind of lifestyle would they lead then? Shork might be able to put her up for a little while, but not the entire family. By no means three extra mouths to feed.

She sighed and after a little nuzzle into the horse's neck, which elicited a little whinny from him, she steeled her nerves and made it to the door. "Cherry, I believe it'll be a long evening." she'd murmured before she disappeared behind the doors.
The tavern was busy. As always. But always busier in the evenings. That's when all the foul birds came out to play. She made her way through drunken assaults by strange men, with her nose upturned in disgust at the sheer smell of the pungent liquor that fell over the room like a sheet. Blue eyes scanned the area, keen and alert to anything that looked, or sounded like her uncle.
And sitting by the bar, there he was, making merry and inebriated as all hell above. It disgusted Corinne. How could anyone let that become of themselves? It was absurd. It was crazy. It was...
...so human of him.
"Uncle..." she cautiously made her way to the man, like she had done on quite a few nights before, and grabbed his arm to shake him back into a more tangible reality, in which she existed and was shaking his arm for him to find his senses again. "Uncle, it's me, Corinne. We have to go, it's getting very late, and I..."
Her voice trailed off. What did she have to do? What did she want to say to him, anyway? "Please, just let's go. I don't have the time for this, not at a-"
The man in his unwillingness to listen, and with a hearty laugh and hollow, glassy grey eyes, pushed the elf away and it made her pout in frustration.
"Uncle, please! We have to go! Now!" she whimpered, grabbing onto his arm and attempting to drag him right out of the tavern manually if she had to.
Evidently, little but difficulty was had in getting the man near anywhere out of his seat. He didn't even have to be alive and animated and kicking for it to be a struggle. It was equally as bad when the drink made him sleepy, and lethargic and heavy and stiff.
Long ago, her uncle was meant to take care of her. And now she had to ever so politely return the favour.
It wasn't in her top then things to do, to say the least.

Elric paused for a moment as he heard something creak against one of the larger boxes. He trudged up towards it holding his candlestick. He moved closer as the candle illuminated part of a foul goblinoid. "Oh have you come for a shave or haircut or surgery?" He asked, surprisingly calm, "You do realize that the entrance was from downstairs right? I'm sure I kept a few candles lit..."

James stared blankly ahead as he remembered how he made mysterious blood candy, his eyes narrowing.
"...I have my ways." he responded, handing the girl a piece.

James looked back at the auction, where wealthy aristocrats bid for people. He pulled Anya closer, feeling his stomach churn.
Thank goodness it's outlawed in my homeland he thought to himself. Moreover, he eyed the general populace. A lot of the people seemed rather unsavory. If he could make a guess, there was a distinct class divide created by the influence of the aristocracy. Aristocrats meant poverty, and that meant brigands. James made a mental note to go fishing later.

"Oh, hey!" he said aloud. "Anya, it's been a while since we've had some fun together. I doubt there are many sights to see, but perhaps you'd like to get a souvenir later? And I can take you out if this town has something pretty to see."

Gukb closed his eyes as the he-bastard rounded the corner. Taking a deep breath, he waited for the footsteps to stop - that would be his moment; his lanky fingers tightened around Red Rust's handle.

"Oh have you come for a shave or haircut or surgery?"

Gukb smacked his his own face with an open palm. Idiot! How'd I miss the moment!? Out of practice, Gukby old boy!

"Ahem," Gukb coughed, clearing his throat. He buried Red Rust deep into a pile of discarded nonsense and pretended the blade hadn't been there all along. "A hair cut, if ye not be inklin' to open my throat. Been'a long time since old Gukb here got himself tended to by some proper shears." He paused to look back at the rectangular hole in the roof. "Oh, 'n er sorry 'bout the woodwork, I'll fix 'er up. Not wise for me likes to be walkin' the streets, real dangerous see? Seemed like me only option."

Was discarding Red Rust a wise idea? Suddenly Gukb cursed his inherited rashness. If the he-bastard swung for him, then it was going to be an old fashioned rough and tumble with teeth and nail. Goblins didn't fare so well in those affairs against opponents a third more their size.

Elric gave a friendly nod to the Goblin, "Oh yes I fully understand Gukb. As for the woodwork, don't worry about it for right now. You can fix it after I give you a proper haircut and trim." He gestured with his free hand, motioning Gukb to follow.

Elric walked back to his part of the attic, where he sat the candlestick back down on a rather cluttered table. He took his straight razor and sharpened it on the strop, "So what brings you to Estermere this fine night Gukb?" He said glancing back in Gukb's direction.

"50 gold" Lucien upped the ante, chuckling quietly to himself. Most of the original bidders were dropping out. He hadn't even noticed the Gnome on the barrel, who would soon be his rival in the bid for the slave.
Rosa, however, had. She didn't want to distract her father from the bid to point her out, but she could see her being a threat in the near future. She wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion. With her ill fitting duster coat and a wide brimmed hat, she looked better suiting to tracking down dangerous criminals than buying slaves.

Gukb followed the lanky he-bastard, but warily. He was fairly sure the human was going to grab the nearest sharp instrument, and run him through. That, or make a nice jigsaw of his face. Every tendon in his spindly little body told him to simply run; he could do it, the he-bastard might be stronger than him, but he wasn't faster. He turned to leave as the barber reached for his tools of the trade, and started sharpening one of them on a strop.

"So what brings you to Estermere this fine night Gukb?" the he-bastard said, turning to look at Gukb.

"What brings most'a people to a place like this?" the goblin asked rhetorically. "Coin 'n' goods flow freely; there be fine pickin's to be made. Just old Gukb here likes them pickin's to be free of charge, see?"

He walked across the attic, the wooden planks beneath him barely creaking under his meagre weight. The barber seemed well established, and judging by the lack of bloodied instruments, quite competent at his job too. Gukb had never had a cut and shave, not from a human in any-case, and this remembrance reinforced the notion of his impending doom.

"Yer not gonna gut me, are ye human? Plenty'o ya kind 'ave tried, some nearly succeeded too," he said, putting on his best smile. "Goblin blood is a rank business, or so's I'm told by ye kinsmen. Would be a shame to get it all over yer finery 'n the like."

Tirarian felt the nobles eyes on her, and raised her hand again.
"60 gold!" She cried, it could only be a fight once both sides knew what they were up against. Chances are that fancy lad could beat her, but she would give him and his companion a run for their money.
Her purple eyes darted over the crowd, everyone had dropped out except for them two, she felt heady, but she couldn't let this rush go to her head. Ok, she said, but no more than 150...

Many torches placed on either the sides of houses or stuck on the ground, illuminated the main street stretching across the town. Trafalgar walked slowly, looking at his surroundings, trying to find an inn or tavern where he could spent the night. He had been walking for over five hours and his feet were starting to develop painful blisters.

After asking around town and walking a solid one hour more, he finally found the tavern most of the residents recommended to him, Pucksy’s Jolly Hippogriff. Almost all of the people he had asked agreed that the Jolly Hippogriff was one of the cleaner and safer taverns in the town, albeit a little wild when it came to the drinking habits of its customers. Trafalgar walked to the tavern door and slowly pushed it forward and instantly laughter echoed in his ears, the strong but sweet smell of ale and beer being poured filled his nostrils. “I’m glad I made the effort to look for it…” he thought as he entered the tavern.

The place was filled with people of all racial backgrounds. Trafalgar spotted a company of dwarves sitting on one of the tables, drinking to their hearts content. On another table you could see a human and a halfling betting on who could drink more. What surprised him the most though was the female elf that was trying to drag what seemed to be a half-elf out of the tavern. A pure blooded elf around these parts was a rare sight, most of them opting to live in Farethas, a predominantly elven country. Trafalgar maneuvered his way through the tables and reached the counter. He sat on one of the stools and ordered a loaf of bread and a mug of beer to drink with.

“By the way, do you rent rooms to travelers that come through here?” he asked the man behind the counter.
“If you want a room, you’d have to ask ol’ Pucksy. He is the one that handles that stuff. My job’s to get your belly full with food and drink!” the barkeep said and laughed loudly.
“And where would Pucksy be right now?” Trafalgar asked.
“He should be somewhere around the back, checking on the ale supplies. With all the thieving that’s been happening lately, we have lost a fair chunk of business…” you could feel the disappointment in the man’s voice as he spoke. “Just wait here until he comes back and then go ask him about the rooms” he added and then proceeded to serve Trafalgar, receive his pay and get along with business.

“Alright then, I guess I’ll wait” Trafalgar mumbled and bit on the load of bread.

Darryn listened to the young man's explanation, and he was almost tempted to believe the story, but then he saw the human smirk. The man then began to shout about Darryn being a brigand, and Darryn cursed.

"Why you bastard son of Adam!" he snarled when Hart had run for It. The man's story must have a been a ploy to get him off guard, and now several humans were closing on him, thinking that he was scum. A rough ugly looking human pulled out a knife from a holder, and moved towards him.

"Vermin scum! I knew your kind was pure dirt, now unless you leave this great place at once, I will carve up that scared face of yours" the human said in a menacing voice.

"I'm staring at pure dirt right in front of me!" Darryn snarled back at the man. The human gave a furious cry and lunged at him. Darryn quickly dodged to the side to avoid the oncoming blade, and then countered with a kick to the man's side. That was when several other humans started to mob him, trying to subdue him. He very quickly put the arrow he had notched back into the quiver, and his longbow strapped back around his shoulder. When one of the humans tried to make a grab for him, he clenched his hands into fists and punched the man right in the face.

He then began to fight off the others, but because he was outnumbered and also that some of them had something that could be used as a weapon, a couple of them managed to hit him. But he wasn't going to let himself go down and he fought as quickly and powerfully as he could without having to use his magic power. Even though he was holding his own, he knew that he would have to run, especially when the man who pulled the knife and tried to stab him, managed to cut him in the bicep. It was very painful, but Darryn retaliated with an elbow strike to the man's face. after that, he made a run for, and tried to escape the crowd.

He tapped into his magic for a little bit of power and felt his muscles strength as he began to run at a very fast pace. He decided that getting to higher ground was the best way to escape the people after him. Darryn began scaling buildings with his incredible climbing abilities and after a little while he managed to lose the humans. Even though he had gotten away, he knew that he had to keep a low profile from now on, which would be difficult considering that he was a Weasel Folk. He put his hood over his head and stealthily began to make his way to someplace where he hoped that the people he had fought wouldn't find him.

After a little while, his eyes spotted Jolly Hippogriff and Darryn hoped that would be a place for him to stay until the other humans stopped looking for him. He headed towards the tavern and he looked at his bleeding arm, it was deathly serious, but he would need to tend to it. This wasn't the type of day he had expected, and wasn't expecting to get into such a fight while he was in Estermere, but he did and Darryn hoped that it didn't make his work more harder.

"Doesn't this Gnome know when to give in?" Lucien chuckled, not at all annoyed at the stranger's intrusion. He personally relished her competition. Finally, a foe with spirit!
But it was Rosa's voice, not Lucien's that made the next bid "100 Gold pieces!"
There was an audible gasp amongst the audience. All eyes turned to Tirarian, the silent question of what her next bid would be on everyone's thoughts
"You've got some value, mate!" One of the commoners yelled to slave beinng auctioned "Hope yer flattered."

Tirarian flashes a smile at the noble, his daughter showed spirit. She knew she couldn't beat him with money, and reaching the end of her budget she decided the best way to stand a chance at winning was to tire the noble out.
"One-ten!" She shouted, getting into it despite the crowds displeasing looks at their auction being held up.
She nodded playfully at this noble, your turn, she mouthed

"Well, then. Let us play" Lucien grinned "120"

Tirarian noticed the grin spreading across this nobles face and reflected that referring to him as the noble was getting a bit repetitive.
"125," She was going to savour this...
Tirarian wasn't to knowledgeable on the noble families of Estermere, but if she had to hazard a guess she would say this man was new to it. Between bringing his daughter to a slave market and actually being at the slave market (normally nobles send their own slaves to buy more). The rapier sheathed on his belt however showed he wasn't your typical merchant as was most nobles, she made a note to meet him afterwards, perhaps for a drink at the Happy Griffon. She smiled as he raised his bid.

"130" Lucien called. That was it! The drop! It was a sure sign she was running out of money.
Lucien had never met a Gnome before. Rosa met a couple in her days as an Ostrheinsburg street rat, but he himself had only heard of them. Mind you, he didn't get out much, so maybe this one had been living here all this time and he just hadn't met her.
"135" Rosa piped in "We can do this all night, you know!"

"So can I!" She lied. Truth was she set her budget for 150, but she didn't have that on her. It probably was best to drop out.
"140," she shouted, her last bid. Well why did she need another hand anyways? She had it under control and an apprentice would just mess things up. Bah! Let the noble have him, though she could tell his daughter had eyes for him, (which was no surprise.) His problem now

"I don't think you can, my dear!" Lucien half-taunted, his grin now akin to that of a Chesshire cat.
"145 gold pieces for the man for sale" Lucien yelled, looking edgeways to the gnome, expecting her to bid again. When she didn't the seller made that distinct call "Going once. Going twice. All in, fair warned..."
No response
"SOLD to the noble Le Croix's"
Lucien smiled at Rosa "I told you I'd get him."
Rosa herself was caught up in the buzz of it all. She couldn't believe they'd won! She was adamant that Gnome would keep bidding until they had nothing left. She wasn't sure when her father would stop, if he would stop.
"Rosa. Go and invite our noble rival for a drink or two in the Hippogriff. I'm going to collect our... winning."

Rosa slipped through the crowd, dipping her hands into a couple of pockets as she went. Old habits die hard.
"Excuse me" She addressed the Gnome, curtseying slightly "I just wanted to say, that was a fine battle we had. I haven't had so much fun in years! I was just wondering... who are you?"

Elric gave a quick chuckle, as he continued sharpening his razor against the strop. When Gukb flashed his smile, Elric glanced at his teeth, inspecting them to see whether or not he'd need to pull some out, or engage in some form of dentistry. After all, it wasn't healthy to have unhealthy teeth.

He used his free hand to gesture at his red tunic, "Why do you think I wear red?" he jested, as he shot a smile. "But, n a more serious note, no, I am not going to 'gut' you. Why would I?" He continued sharpening the razor. He placed it down, as he examined Gukb's hair. Elric glanced down at the table, and pulled out a small pair of shears, as he opened them up, carefully inspecting them. He peered at the edges for some time, before he began quickly opening and shutting them, the blades creating a snipping sound each time. Yes, yes, these will work quite well. "Yes, I've heard that reason for many travelers who passed through here. It is a respectable reason." he said, as he placed the scissors back down.

He glanced back at the table, as he moved past the container which had the leeches, and reached for a small clay pot. He took the pot, and moved towards the candle, where he checked to see if the contents still had water in it. Luckily it still did, and he would not need to go out to collect more water for another night haircut and a shave. "So, traveler, do you have any interesting tales to speak of?" He said as he picked up the straight razor, and gestured for Gukb to come sit in the barber chair.