"I..." Where was she heading? Yes, she asked herself that just seconds ago. "I don't know." Muu continued whispering, yet clear enough to understand thanks to the silence around them. It was truly a dilemma to not even question her own amnesia.

"A destination, mhm..." Muu kept pondering. "S-Somewhere nice? A place where I can eat—" She looked up the night sky. "—and sleep?" Strange though, didn't she spend all this time sleeping in the catacombs?

A purpose Hannah wanted and a purpose Hannah received, even if it was vaguer than she would have preferred. They were to fight monsters. Now, she wasn’t exactly sure how qualified she would be in that area. Did she fight monsters before? With how blasé the man was being, Hannah assumed that he was confident in their abilities. Or at least Hannah did not have any negative emotions towards fighting monsters. Actually, she didn’t feel positively about it either. Maybe she was so used to this lifestyle that fighting was just boring. There was no use dwelling on it, however. With their very clear dismissal, Hannah put on her tags and grabbed her money.

Outside of the office Hannah didn’t bother to introduce herself. It didn’t really matter in comparison to her saying a word she didn’t know the meaning of. That none of them really knew, apparently. She did not like not knowing what she supposedly should know. Or that she didn’t have access to all of her own thoughts. Why didn’t she remember? If her life before this evening was really so important, how could she have forgotten it? All of these questions were annoying her.

Hannah found herself facing a choice: two of her…companions? Colleagues? Headed towards the noise of a crowd and while Hannah thought that it was implied they were a team, she desperately did not want to go towards all those people. Again, Hannah did not know if what she was feeling was a new emotion or an old, but it didn’t really matter. She was not going to go with them, not if it meant going towards all that noise.

Turning east, Hannah walked quickly away from the others and into the quieter part of town.

Those that she saw, clad in armour and more impressive necklaces, seemed to be similar to her. Though, facts ended quickly after "wore the same necklace". She could only make random guesses that soothed her mind. Perhaps they too, had to endure the brusque words of the man behind the desk. Perhaps they managed to ask questions that made the brusque man act a little less rude. Though, it was meaningless to ponder such a thing.

A short glance to the alley let her witness the poor and downtrodden wasting away in their dark confines. Though, Ash quickly looked away from them and continued on. It sucked that they were in that state, but Ash was cold and uncaring to their plight.

With food on her mind, Ash waltz around the stalls. Each item seemed appealing to her. A bowl of noodles with any addition would be a hearty meal, but that would force her to stay to eat. While they certainty looked appealing, she couldn't afford to stay and do nothing but eat for too long. What did look appealing, however, were the kebabs. With a kebab, she could move around the festival and learn more about what was going on.

"Hello," she said as she walked up to the kebab vendor, "how much for one?"

---

The balding man fanned the flames with a leaf stiffened over a rudimentary wooden frame, looking up only once the androgynous otherworlder spoke up. He narrowed his one good eye for a moment, before turning back to fanning the fires that kept his oil hot.

“One silver,” came the curt response.

One silver seemed like a bit much for Ash. It was only a guess that she could make, but if the man at the desk had given her a total of ten silver to survive and adapt to Andeave, then she could only afford ten kebabs with her endowment. If she was to hunt monsters, she would need equipment. Unless she was expected to use a discarded branch or her meek, uncalloused hands as a weapon, that would mean that she would have to buy—or otherwise acquire—equipment. Equipment would, unless Altera had dire famines and great mines, be more expensive than a basic necessity. For the time being, she would just need to push for more information from the balding man.

“Why one silver? Seems rather expensive for something as simple to make as a kebab,” Ash asked, her words tinged with the slightest bit of venom.

While she spoke with confidence, she had absolutely zero knowledge on the finer points of kebab-making. For all she knew, making stick meat could have been the most difficult activity in the world. The rudimentary frame, however, made her think that making them was very forgiving. After all, it didn’t seem to require any precision.

The one eyed man turned up in her direction again, giving her a stink eye.

He didn’t give her any answer so Ash, realizing that her time would be wasted by this man, made an about-face. While she was hungry, there was no shortage of vendors. Even though she was starved, perhaps the next vendor down the road would be more interested in speaking.

Though, a brief thought flickered. What if it was one silver for a meal? She wouldn’t put it past the man at the desk to give them a paltry sum.

She began to walk to the next stall. Perhaps if she acted a bit more friendly?

The next stall she came across featured a dark-skinned woman who was carefully rotating a cute little pig over a fire. Every few seconds, oil dripping from the baby’s white flesh would fall into the flames, causing it to crackle and spit, but if the sparks bothered her, the woman didn’t show it. On the side of her stall were the prices: a whole hog for a silver, and then various increments of coppers for choice cuts.

Ash’s choice had paid off. This vendor seemed to be a much better person than the last. Her prices were on the stall and seemed reasonable, at least compared to Mr. One-Silver-Kebab. She read the menu, looking for the most affordable cut of meat. Though, her hunger got in the way. Rather than choose the tiny slice of ham for 3 copper, she chose a rather large slice of loin at 10 copper.

“Ah, ma’am,” she said in a polite tone, “could you convert a… silver coin?”

In all honesty, Ash had no idea how much a silver coin was compared to a copper coin. It just was safe to assume it was less.

Looking up from her roast, the stall owner tilted her head to the side slightly, dark curls spilling over her shoulders. Then, a spark of realization, before she nodded. “Sure thing, honey.”

And, heralded by the clinking and clanking of many coins jingling together, a pile of one hundred copper coins found itself presented before Ash, an amount great enough to attract a few snickers from others trawling for midnight snacks.

It only made sense for one silver coin to be worth a hundred copper coins. She asked for this. She would accept her fate. Out from her pouch, she took a single silver coin and placed it on the table, close to the stall owner. Then, she carefully separated the piles. Her finger slowly pushed ten copper coins back towards the stall owner and adjacent to the silver coin.

She then began to fill every pocket on her with coins. She grabbed a handful of coins, about 20, and placed them in her pouch. Then, she grabbed a handful of about 15 and shoved them into her left sock. She did the same for her right. She placed around 20 more in her left pant pocket, it luckily being large enough to hold the coins flat without bulging too much. The same for her right—filled with just enough coins. While she would have—and should have—used her undergarments as storage, the looks of strangers prevented her from shoving twenty coins into her skivvies. Luckily, her jacket had an extra pocket on the left breast. She placed the remaining twenty coins in it and looked directly at the stall owner. Her eyes were not of malice or embarrassment. In fact, this was possibly the strongest Ash had ever been. She was resolute and pure. While one would think she made a newbie mistake, she had the confidence of Hercules.

“Could I please get a large slice of loin?”

As Ash suited herself up with coins weighing down on every conceivable part of her body, a few more snickers resounded, but the stall owner herself seemed unbothered. “Smart moves till you get cut,” she said, twirling a thick butcher knife around. WIth a few quick cuts, she carved into one of the pigs in the back, passing the hunk of meat over the flames to warm it up a bit, before pulling out a sheet of oiled paper and handing it over.

“Here ya go, freshie. Best find a place for all those coins.”

Now in the possession of 99 coins and a slab of pork, Ash asked the woman one last question.

”Would there be a good place to deposit coins around here?”

A straight-faced reply shot out. “My stall.”

Ash was surprised by this statement. With such a straight-face the woman was making, she couldn’t exactly be sure if her stall was actually a place to deposit money. Of course, she could have just been joking to encourage more sales, but the possibility always remained.

”So, your stall is also a bank?” She said in actual confusion.

“No, that’s a joke. Bank’s closed at this hour, so you’ll just have to tough it out.”

”Ah, well, thank you anyways ma’am. You’ve been a great help to me and my,” Ash said, quickly glancing down, “my stomach.”

And with that, she left. Perhaps she should have got some food for Matteo and the others. Though, they weren’t exactly friends. They had to get their own food.

For now, Ash would try to reconvene with the others. She took a ravenous bite out of her pork. With a jingle and a jangle coming from her feet, she decided to go back the way she came. Her contemporaries couldn’t have got that far away, right? She wanted to get back to them rather quickly. After all, holding 30 coins in one’s sock wasn’t exactly a pleasant endeavor.

Matteo straightened up, adjusting his glasses and taking the hand offered to him. He clasped it firmly, looking up into the face of the first friendly person he’d met since-- well, as far as he knew, since ever. “Right, I suppose so,” he said, a little taken aback by Etono’s candor. How many people introduced themselves as a criminal first, soldier second? He offered his “senior” a wry smile, looking interested. “A thief, really? Should you be telling me that?”

“Hm? Well, guess we’re not in as high demand as those preach-y types,” Etono chuckled, “But we balance the scales, and most of us keep our heads down in town. Save the thievery for the enemy, yah know?”

Curious. Curious and curiouser (where had he heard that? It didn’t matter.) What he was hearing was that thieves were a soldier position, and apparently not an uncommon one. Still, new mysteries were constantly presented. “Ah, I see. I take it that these robes you’re wearing aren’t the usual thief attire, then?”

There was another small smile on Matteo’s face as he gestured at the others, dour-faced and clothed in sky blue. Could they be the “preach-y types” Etono had mentioned?

There was a flash of confusion, before Etono let out a low whistle. “Wow,” the handsome man remarked, “Musta really pissed off Mathers, huh? Didn’t think he’d withhold that much info.”

Pulling down down the collar slightly, the self-professed thief revealed the clothing he wore underneath: a motley collection of cloth and leather that varied from dark brown to beige. “That look more like standard thieving wear for you? Us properly registered thieves all wear the blue as a signal that we have no intention of stealing from our own, you see?” He gave a little twirl, indicating just how form-fitting the garments were. “Gotta toss some of our ill-gotten gains away to the less advantaged, lest the Imperial Edict, Ier-Briar The Mountainclad, judges us to be greedy and decides to take the toll via karmic justice instead. ‘S why all those others are being sour.”

A shrug, another smile, as Etono raised his arm up slightly. “So ye, could say these are our casual clothes, Matt. Though basically everyone wears their normal gear underneath.”

A little stunned by how far he’d been off the mark, Matteo nodded along, eyebrows raising as he finally understood. He let out his breath in a sigh. “That makes sense now.” He might not know much, but he’d assumed someone like a thief wouldn’t have a uniform that marked them so… obviously. Now he could see that was the point. There’s something ironic about a registered thief.

“We did arrive at a… untimely hour,” The curly-haired young man admitted, scratching his head. He assumed Mathers was the recruiter. “Though we thought that might just be his personality.” Apparently not. “Do you have time for a few more questions? I could…” Matteo trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the inebriated crowd, “Buy… you a drink?”

“Eh, the hour’s pretty normal, as far as I’m aware,” Etono replied, “And naw, no need to get me a drink or anything. I’ll just cash in this favor once you’ve become a more established adventurer.”

With that, the ponytailed man leaned against the wall, looking a little more the part of a seedy criminal, as he snapped his fingers. ”Go shoot. Let’s see whatcha got on your mind.”

“How did you become a thief?” Matteo asked, holding up his hands and adding quickly “Ah, I mean-- you said you were registered. Who do you register with? Mathers?” What little information he’d already gathered covered the basics of what they were supposed to do (kill monsters, apparently) just not how they were supposed to do it. How did stealing work against “the enemy,” exactly?

“Straight to the climax, eh?” the man laughed. “We get registered in a guild separate from the Silver Moon. Usually, you’d need a guarantor and a hefty fee to get in, but joining up with the Silver Moon provides both. So yeah, pretty cut-and-dry. Join thieves guild, do thieves stuff, obey the rules and get training.”

Training. What a fancy word for work. Matteo considered the unlucky soldiers who didn’t have the good fortune of being Silver Moon recruits and wasn’t sure what to make of them. Was it really such a prime opportunity, or were they just the only ones who didn’t know any better? Then again, if there weren’t any long-term benefits to the work, these “guilds” wouldn’t be able to charge so much. Hmm.

“Pretty cut and dry,” he echoed Etono, nodding, “Was it a long training period? I assume there’s other guilds besides your own, too.” Merchants, clergy? He had no idea.

“Basics are a week long. After that, you’re more or less out of money and have to start pulling your own weight.” A slightly more nostalgic smile crept over the thief’s features. “Mm, those were fun times. And yup, more guilds than you can count on two hands, but not all of them are open.”

Matteo’s empty hand slapped against his hip and he glanced at it, vaguely realizing he’d been reaching for-- something. A piece of paper to write some of this down on, maybe. His brow furrowed for a moment and there was a pause for a second too long before he looked up again, expression easing again. “Makes sense. Do you know which ones are open, or which I should look into?” Even if Matteo himself wasn’t interested, maybe one of the girls he’d been recruited with would be.

“There we go! That’s the question you shoulda asked,” Etono said, before his eyes flickered to the sky, musing over past details, “If we’re talking about stuff that’d make you popular, priesthood is always a good bet, ‘specially if your group already has some burly manly men. Outside of that, warriors and fiend knights are always open, rangers will take you if you can handle the blood, I can get you in with an extra recommendation if you wanna go thieving, and if you’re feeling lucky, mage academy’s good for bookish types.”

A shrug. “Those are the six ones that are always open, as far as I know, yea.”

… He could see why he would have wanted to write that information down, but Matteo liked to think he had a good enough memory (recent events notwithstanding) to repeat it back without notes. It was good to know which guilds had openings, even if he and the others might not know which ones they wanted to pursue.

“I’m not sure if I’m a bookish type or not,” Matteo said out loud and then paused. “That is to say I’m literally not sure. I think so. Possibly.” Was it just because he had glasses? He pushed them up the bridge of his nose thoughtfully and sighed. One more thing had been bothering him. “Earlier, you said you thought around now was the normal time to arrive, right? Do people like us show up here… often?” If the ponytailed thief was a Silver Moon soldier as well, that meant he’d started with the same circumstances as Matteo and the others… right?

“I mean, I came at night.” Etono pointed out. “So did basically everyone else I know?”

“Huh.”

After a moment to let that information process, Matteo gave a little start and an apologetic smile, clearing his throat. “Well, Etono, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thanks for being so patient. I’d better go find the… others…” He was casting his gaze around for Ash and Aoi, who he’d almost immediately lost upon entering the plaza. “In any case, I appreciate it. I certainly owe you that favor once I get myself situated here.” He offered his hand to shake again, grateful for the other man’s assistance.

”Always a pleasure to be currying favor with the new kids,” Etono replied, taking Matteo’s hand in his own. ”If you got any other pressing questions in the future, just ask for me at Roselia’s. Someone’s probably gonna know where I’m at.”

“Sure thing. Thanks again,” Matteo said easily. He turned away from the blue-robed thief and made his way back through the festive square, Talking with Etono had left him with a much different perspective of Silver Moon and Andeave itself. A close-knit group of people connected by their mutual goals and mysterious lack of past, distributed across elite guilds. The thief had seemed happy. He wondered what that meant.

The short man still wasn’t sure if Ash had heard him or not when he’d suggested they meet back in front of the recruitment office, but he hoped at least the others had. They didn’t have to be friends, but their naivety in this city put them all at the same disadvantage. He returned along the same path they’d come on, dismissing the idea of food or drink until they'd reconvened.

Aoi was taken aback and at a loss for words for what felt like once in her life as the drunk, armored man dragged her along with him. He was much larger and stronger than she realized as Aoi tried her best, tugging in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me,” she said, finally stomping her feet to the ground, digging into whatever she could. “I said stop!” The pink haired girl grabbed the guards wrist as she pried her own hand free out of his grasps.

Not disturbed in the least by her resistance, the armored man guffawed instead, hardly able to feel the pressure of her grip over chainmail and leather. He was indeed stronger and larger, liquid courage giving him a more brazen attitude than normal, while the crowds were dense enough, loud enough, that no one noticed.

“Gufufu, no need to play coy,” he jeered, “I know exactlyyyy what you’re here for. Even those thieving bitches don’t dress in clothes like this. So c’mon darling, don’t make a scene.”

Aoi was surprised at the man’s words. He was definitely not the same breed as the first two knights she met. She had to think on her feet as she was heading to somewhere she knew that she didn’t want to be going.

The woman bit her lips as she thought for a moment with a light bulb clicking in her head of what plan of action to take next. “If you were to act a little more gentlemanly, than maybe I might be much more to oblige. There isn’t any need to be so forceful.”

He paused for a moment, before that goofy, exaggerated smile creased his features again. “Alright, alright,” the man said, swaying lightly on his feet, “What’s yer price then, lass? Twenty silver? Thirty?”

“Thirty-five?” Aoi questioned rather than stated, not knowing the going-rate. But she figured that she had to continue on acting out her much more exotic role if she wanted to buy herself more time in escaping.

“All good, all good,” he nodded, sliding the arm he had around her shoulders to a lower position, “Ain’t no goblin slayer here, lady.”

Was he truly that ‘rich’? Or was drunken lust doing all the talking here? Regardless, the man pushed her forwards, heading towards the south with even more drive, now that a deal had been struck.

Really feeling her role now, Aoi grew a little more confident, but that burst of confidence quickly subsided as his arms now wrapped around her waist, making it harder for her to figure out a solid plan. “Ah! Payment is to be made before, along with drinks…”

She had to think again, but figured that the best thing to do was to stay in sight, that would be her best chance to escape. “How about we go and enjoy the night, I haven’t had a chance to see any of the vendor stalls.” The pink haired woman gave her knight in shining armor a playful wink, wondering how overdoing it she was actually doing.

“Hahah,” he laughed, paying her no heed, “You can have a look around on your time afterwards, lady. If I wanted a date, I wouldn’t be paying!”

And there was that forcefulness again, mixed now with more impatience, more aggression. One hardened hand against her back, he directed her away from the crowds, into darker streets bereft of the festive atmosphere of the taverns and inns.

The feeling of defeat began to rise in the pit of her stomach as his brutish side returned. But as they began splitting away from the crowd Aoi saw what could only be what she figured an opening to her escape to continue. She noticed Matteo, one of her newfound friends.

“Matteo!” Aoi screamed as loud as she could, slipping under the man’s arm that was around her waist as he was now pushing her instead of dragging her along with an iron grip, running towards the wavy haired man. “Matteo!”

Her new acquaintance turned questioningly at the sound of his name, brow furrowing. He raised his hand in a little half-wave, looking a little relieved to see Aoi running towards him before the rest of the picture finally registered.

Looking alarmed, the short man stepped forward to cut the guy off before he could reach the fleeing girl. “Excuse me,” Matteo began testily, catching onto the armored drunk’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Get out of my way!”

Matteo’s attempt last for all of two seconds before the much stronger man slammed his other fist into the curly-haired youth’s head. Though it was without finesse or skill, the sheer weight and momentum that came with such a blow sent Matteo reeling, spinning once before crashing against the back of another random gent. Blood dripped from a cut on his eyebrow, while his head ache and rang as if a clarion call was echoing through his skull.

The man that he crashed into turned with a laugh, before pushing Matteo onto his feet again. “Scrapping with the Old Bear, freshie? C’mon, show us your guts!”

But the ‘Old Bear’ cared little for continuing his rampage upon Matteo. With the bespectacled stringbean hardly giving him any pause, he closed the distance upon Aoi easily, one hand stretching out to grasp at her hair. “Don’t fuck wit me, you sluttish liar!” he shouted, yanking her back.

Aoi was shocked at how fast the knight was, even in his armor, he managed to catch up to her in an instant. “Let go of me!”

She turned to see Matteo’s face, freshly bloodied with the cut and all. Then her eyes focused back onto the hefty knight. Aoi knew damn well she couldn’t take him on, but felt that she had to do something now as he struck Matteo and was calling her a liar, which of course wasn’t wrong.

“I’m not a prostitute!” The woman hollered, “Let go of me, there was a misunderstanding!” Her logic was to attempt to reason with the burly, angry man, even if it was a little too late. If there was a chance to have Matteo and her not get any more injured, she was going to at least try.

“My… guts?” Matteo was muttering in a daze, clutching the side of his head. There were still white spots fading in his vision. “Thanks…” He managed to find his balance after the man he’d fallen into gave him a helpful push in the right direction, but what now? As he staggered after the so-called Old Bear he looked around for something to even the odds-- a stray spear, or a chair, or something to throw.

It didn’t look like he had time for anything so sophisticated-- the guard already had Aoi by the hair and it didn’t look like reason was the most effective weapon against an angry drunk. In a fit of irritation (or inspiration) Matteo kicked at the back of the dude’s knees like a mean little boy, hoping it would upset his balance long enough for Aoi to get away.

The kick had little to no effect, Matteo feeling the sensation of kicking the trunk of a tree rather than the knee of a human. But it was enough to draw the man’s ire regardless, as he pulled down a second time on Aoi’s hair, more to inflict pain that to draw her closer, before releasing. Turning around, it was clear that the rosiness of his cheeks was no longer due to drink alone. “Oh,” he snarled, posturing menacingly, “Think you’re a big guy, huh? A tough guy? Alright, you little bitch, if you’re so set for this, I’ll just bend you over instead!”

With that, he tossed his chainmail gauntlets aside, clenching his fists to the approval of the crowd.

All around, the masses were drawn to the fight that looked like it was going to start. Old Bear had always been a belligerent bastard, but the crew cut warrior with dark tattoos lining up one side of his face was entertaining at least. The time for merriment had passed, and now, it was bloodsport that the warriors outside were interested in. Forming a ring of armored bodies around the two, onlookers jeered and cheered, rumors of the fight starting almost in an instant. Some thought that Matteo and the Old Bear were fighting over rights to a woman’s bed. Others thought that the fight had started when Matteo bumped into the man at the wrong time. Then there was the rousing, chivalric tale of the freshie defending one of his own against the greasy hands of that lousy drunk.

No matter the story though, the ring had blocked off escape, and Old Bear was ready to rumble.

“FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”

Aoi yelped in pain as the knight yanked her hair one final time, causing her to fall to the ground. The pink haired woman watched as Old Bear turned his sights onto Matteo as the crowd around them began to thicken.

Picking herself up off the ground, with her brows furrowed she glared at Old Bear who was still eyeing his new prey that consisted of Matteo. She wasn’t going to leave her new friend as it was her fault he was even in this mess, but everything she had done so far had little to no effect, or more so made things totally worse.

With a big breath, Aoi decided her next few moves might be the stupidest ones yet, but her only purpose right now was to get Matteo out of there alive. Yanking a small, glass mug from one of the onlookers in the crowd who stood beside her, she tossed it towards Old Bear’s head, doing the same a second time before shouting to Matteo.

“Run!”

He’d been backing away, trying to say something like “Oh, I’m sorry, that was a mistake” (which was true) when the crowd finally took notice of the scene. What could have been helpful before became decidedly unhelpful as Matteo was surrounded by the other warriors in the crowd.

How the situation had escalated to this point wasn’t clear to Matteo, who still didn’t know why the dude had been pursuing Aoi in the first place. What was clear was that he needed to beat a tactical retreat. Immediately.

“I greatly apologize,” he said, clutching the side of his still-throbbing head. “I-I don’t know what came over me. No, no-- I have no intention of fighting, thank you,” the last was directed to the crowd, whose frenzy seemed built on unfounded expectations. “I actually--”

He took the opportunity Aoi gave him and made a dive for a gap in the crowd.

The small glass bounced off Old Bear’s skull with nary a bruise to show for it. Glaring murder at both Matteo’s cowardly bitch-talk as well as Aoi’s continued attempts at distraction, the muscled warrior approached, even as Matteo fled.

There was no gap in the crowd though, none that willingly parted. Though the crowds had not caught the circumstances behind the first punch, many had seen Matteo kick his opponent from behind. Faced with a veritable wall of beaten steel, as well as the slightly less amused expressions on the faces of the spectators, it was clear that escape would not be so easy.

“C’mon lad!” “Show some guts!” “Where’s all your balls now?!” “Man up and fight!”

And from behind, Old Bear surged with familiar violence, running up for a ferocious haymaker. Matteo did his best to duck and fell to the ground, scrambling back clumsily away from his opponent. He tried to think of something rational to say and came up with “Please don’t kill me.”

Matteo’s attempts to dodge and duck brought laughter from the raucous crowd, but it only infuriated his opponent further. The warrior’s blood-rage was pulsating through Old Bear’s veins now, and he rushed at Matteo with the force of a mad bull. Bringing a leather boot back, the man scored a hefty kick onto the prone youth, sending him all the way to the other side of the fighting ring.

His breath left him in a wheeze as Old Bear’s boot to his chest sent him flying, knees and elbows bouncing cruelly off of cobblestones as he rolled. Something clinked as he lay there in a ball of pain, his mind screaming for him to get up. Picking up his head, Matteo’s eyes focused on the rolling glass beside him, left over from Aoi’s attempt to get him out of this terrible situation.

His earlier plan to use something to level the painful difference of strength between himself and the drunk rushed back to him. Matteo snatched up the broken vessel and tucked it close to himself, hunched over and still gasping for air on the ground. He had to be patient. He had to wait for Old Bear to come close enough--

The drunken man jumped up this time, powerful legs prompting a gasp from the spectators as he sailed through the air, aiming to crush Matteo’s back beneath his soles.

“YOUR ASS IS MINE.”

--Too close. Way too close. “Shit!” The spectacled young man rolled desperately, tucking his arms in and throwing himself to the side. He was yanked back abruptly as he felt Old Bear’s boots thunder down on the hem of his jacket, yoinking him back. He struggled to tear the article of clothing away, jarring one shoulder as he managed to stagger to his feet with the glass still clutched in one hand. “You win! I concede! Forfeit!”

But the fist came all the same, a powerful right straight towards Matteo’s face.

Holding up a broken glass as a shield didn’t actually soften the blow. It was more like getting punched by someone wearing a gauntlet (which Old Bear had kindly removed before the match). His eyes crossed. His head snapped back. The back of the glass collided with his nose and glasses with a crunch and Matteo went down.

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded to black was the sharp commands of guards pushing through the crowd, ordering people to clear the way.



While the men had their fight, a slender hand grasped Aoi’s, the kindly, but bagged eyes of one of a waitress-looking lady at her gently while the crowd roared on.

“Best to leave while you can, sister,” the braided girl said, “Dunno what’s up with those friends of yours, but the guards are coming soon.”

“I can’t leave him…” Aoi said biting her lip. She turned to face Matteo and Old Bear once again as she knew that the only way to help him was to get some help. “Okay... Let’s go.” Tightening the grip of the woman’s hand she was led out of the crowd, looking for whatever else she could to even out the fight, that’s when her eyes lit up as she saw another familiar face.

Ash, who had been wandering back from whence she came, had been distracted by a large gathering. They had formed a human wall filled to the brim with yells and jeers. Ash couldn’t possibly know what was going on besides something eventful. Her curiosity had got the best of her. She wanted to know what was going on. As such, she joined the thick crowd. She was unable to get further than the outskirts, however. People were packed in tight. There was no room to traverse the flesh mountain. If Ash had been born tall, she could have peered over the volume of heads.

As it stood, she knew nothing. That was until Aoi appeared, pulled by an unknown girl. As soon as Aoi’s eyes lit up at the sight of Ash, Ash’s eyes narrowed in disappointment and disapproval. What was Aoi even doing here?

"I can see that," the priest spoke gravely, "Lay him down on one of the pews. We can discuss your donations afterwards."

The solemn man did not lend a hand to assist the two ladies in carrying Matteo over onto one of the hard, wooden pews, but he was not all that concerned by the blood and dirt they brought with them to this holy place either. Turning to one of the nuns in the sanctuary, he ordered her to fetch a towel and a bucket of water, before he rolled up his sleeves, assessing the injuries in silence. Two particularly nasty bruises, a broken nose, and many glass shards. Not the worst he had seen, not even close. The slender lad simply lacked the constitution or mental strength necessary to rouse himself from such wounds then. Unfortunate, considering what hung around his neck.

The nun came quickly, bowing her head slightly in reverence before depositing the pail of water there, a beige rag hanging off the rim. He gave her a word of thanks for her speediness, before letting out a breath. One pale hand reached out over Matteo's face, another, onto his chest.

"Alri-Qua, Keeper of Light, Bestow Unto Him Your Mercy. Heal."

Twin hexagons of radiance spilled from the priest's hands, sparkling rays washing over Matteo's face. Flesh melted back together, while bruises were utterly erased. One by one, shards of glass pitter-pattered onto the stone floor like small hailstones, pushed out of the flesh by that divine miracle, until all that remained of Matteo's beating was the twisted frame of his glasses and the dried blood that still caked his face. For that, the priest turned to the bucket, wringing the damp rag before wiping away the dark red flakes.

Soon enough, Matteo roused, to the concerned looks of his companions.

@Denny@Burger@Buzzkill

---

"Well, I'd certainly be remiss to send a young lady off on her journey on an empty stomach," the majestically handsome blond spoke, "Come. Our order is not one that offers free room and board for strangers, but I can at least scrounge up something on the fly to quell the beast within your bosom."

Dark blue eyes flickered off further down the street, before the barrel-chested man raised his voice.

"Perhaps you'd like to join us too, young miss? The night's dangerous even in Andeave, and I'm certain enough that the two of you are fate-bound, from circumstance, if not from attire."

@Skyswimsky@Changejar

For the second time that evening, Matteo awoke in a strange place surrounded by strange people. This time, however, at least two of the faces were vaguely familiar. He thought they were, anyway. It was a bit difficult to say for sure when everyone except the solemn priest bending over him was an out-of-focus blur. He raised a hand to grope down the pew as if feeling for his glasses, then let it fall again, empty.

It was all rushing back to him. Old Bear, the fight, the fist. The question "Did I lose?" wasn’t even on the table-- he’d never even been a player.

He made a hoarse sound that became a sigh. “Thank you,” he uttered first to his unknown benefactor and the two girls who’d clearly gotten him help in some form or another. The curly-haired youth remained laying on his back, staying very still. After a moment, his hands came up to touch his face.

No cuts, no stinging, no pain. His hesitant fingers became rigid with surprise as he touched smooth skin. “I didn’t imagine that, did I?” he asked skeptically, testing his now-unbroken nose. “How long was I…” The last thing he remembered was the guards arriving to break up the crowd. Matteo winced. If they had just come a little sooner, I could have gotten out of there on my own...

"About an hour, Ash had responded as her breath had begun to return, "maybe."

Ash wasn't exactly sure. She hadn't kept track of time. It felt like half an hour to finally see the church, but it felt like an eternity to ascend the stairs with Matteo in tow.

Seeing Matteo's face be healed seemed alien. It felt completely new. Ash, however, didn't panic or become flustered. She had decided to throw what little common sense she possessed away. It would be easier that way.

Donations, however, were Matteo and Aoi's responsibility. They would be the ones to handle it. Ash had nothing to do with Matteo getting hurt in the first place. The biggest hurdle they faced wasn't donations to the church, however. It was what to do next.

"What do we do now?" Ash had said to herself, her voice little more than a whisper.

When Hannah wandered away from the others, she was expecting to find herself a nice moment to reflect and gather her thoughts. Not that she had many thoughts to gather, considering her memory was all rather recent, but still. The thought of going towards more people that she didn’t know with a small group of people that she also didn’t know made her skin crawl. A dislike of people was added to Hannah’s rather short list of things she knew about herself.

Her steps faltered when she came across quite a scene. A man and what looked like a younger girl were…engaged in some sort of misadventure. From her viewpoint, Hannah couldn’t quite see what was going on, but from noise alone she got the feeling that it would be best to just be on her way. Hannah was about to turn around when she realized that she recognized the girl. She was there when Hannah first came to, but went in a different direction. Hannah figured it was safe to assume this was the other member of their forced party that the angry man had mentioned.

Still not actually wanting to be involved with whatever trouble the other girl had gotten into, Hannah stayed back and watched from a distance. She didn’t actually feel any desire to charge in and help, but it didn’t feel right to just abandon her either. Unless someone else had found the other, then the girl was wandering around a strange town with absolutely no idea what was going on. As much as Hannah found herself annoyed with the thought, she followed (at a reasonable) the girl to make sure that nothing too bad happened to her.

When the girl knocked on a door, Hannah moved just a little bit closer to make eavesdrop on their conversation. Hannah was unsurprised that most of what this man said was just as confusing at the other. She wondered if it was a man thing, or if the people of this town got their kicks from confusing the already very confused visitors.

Upon being addressed, Hannah stiffened and debated hightailing it away from the situation. But then the other girl would be alone. She wasn’t sure why she cared, but Hannah rolled her eyes and stomped forward, casting a look at the girl as she passed and entered the building. Knowing her luck, Hannah was fairly certain that they had just walked into a cult.

So only an hour had passed since the tattooed man's fist had knocked him out cold. “Interesting,” Matteo muttered. His fingers explored the smooth, unbroken canvas of his newly-healed face again. The fight had been so intense, and sudden. It would almost be easy to forget it had happened at all. A nightmare of blows and falls and a merciless, unyielding mob of onlookers in the plaza square, ringing them in a mob of ugly noise. He had never in his life expected to be put in that kind of situation.

He thought he hadn’t, anyway.

The dark-haired young man sat up slowly and the faces around him came more into focus. “Aoi, that’s you, isn’t it? I assume you’re all right.” Once the crowd had sealed him and Old Bear in, she should have had the chance to get away. The people had no interest in what had caused their conflict, only its resolution. Matteo sighed and lifted a finger to adjust his glasses and poked himself between the eyes instead. “I’m not sure,” he admitted in response to Ash’s question. Well, in the short-term...

His gaze shifted to his surroundings-- he was not the only person stretched out on a hard wooden pew. There were many others here, swaddled in ragged clothing still more practical than what the three newcomers wore. Matteo cleared his throat, turning towards the priest. “Sir, I don’t suppose we could rest here for the night.” Uncomfortable as the benches were, this place-- this church-- felt safe. Going out into the night again, searching for somewhere to stay in this foreign place, sounded exhausting. And Matteo was exhausted already. His hour spent unconscious didn’t exactly count as a nap.

Aoi stood silent as she watched in awe of the priest showcasing some holy magic before their eyes. It was shocking, but excitement and curiosity filled her eyes as all of the cuts and bruises from Matteo disappeared. "Wow," she mouthed as her friend began regaining a sense of consciousness.

When it was all said and done, Matteo's biggest concern it seemed as in the safety of her as he asked if she was alright. "I'm fine." She manged to stutter out. "I... I'm..." Her words seemed to falter and fade away as all of the conversations continued. She would apologize on her own time to her friend, making sure to showcase her gratitude for what he did since he was the one who dragged him into the fight with the drunken knight in the first place.

"If it's not too much to ask, of course." She added on after Matteo had asked to stay the night in the church. "We can pay for it." Aoi of course meant that she was willing to pay for the three of them to rest up for the night, still taking full blame of what transpired thus far on their adventure.

Being invited so suddenly into a stranger's home, Muu felt even more uncomfortable. Especially when he mentioned how they'd usually didn't do this but this time it was okay, somehow. "U-Uh..." Fidgeting around with her hands, the brunette winced as Gavriel became louder once again. Did he really like to hear his own voice that much?

To Muu's surprise, however, he seemed to address someone else. Another girl that she did recognize. She had been there earlier. Fate-bound? "Urm..." About to speak up again, Muu winced a second time as the other girl stomped past her into the building. And, oh good, what was with the look she had been given? With slight terror in her face, Muu was slightly despairing. They hadn't even talked yet and the other girl already disliked her!? But.. but... she was probably closer to her than anyone else! Shucks.

"I... I'm sorry..." Muu whispered in a dry voice as she, too, followed in. Feeling unwelcome, there was nobody else to go, was there?

As payment was inquired, the holy man simply raised one hand, shaking his head. Though a part of him would have liked to charge some exorbitant amount of money and take advantage of these nameless newcomers, the church wasn’t in bad enough condition to rely on such tactics yet. His fingers grazed the hexagram hanging from his neck as he recalled the kindness of the former Father of the church.

“It’s only a donation if it’s voluntary, lost lambs. Please, feel free to help yourself with some soup and rest here for the night. Though I can’t promise comfort, there’s shelter at least.”

He smiled, even if it was a bit forced.

“I’ll have to ask you to leave at first light, however, so that we may prepare for the day’s rituals. Unless any of you would like to join the covenant in lieu of a life of bloodshed and suffering?”

Well, not that an ascetic life would be so pleasurable either.

@Denny@Buzzkill@Burger

---

Gavriel raised an eyebrow at the extraordinarily ‘teenage’ reaction he got from the pretty blonde girl, but ultimately, the long-haired hunk shrugged. There was probably some weird childhood drama thing going on between Muu and Eye-Roller, but he was just offering them a meal and some more accurate directions, not relationship counselling. Leading the way for the two of them, he guided them past a well maintained lawn filled with rows of wooden dummies, moonlight exposing the deep cuts in them, before they passed the entrance into a large, white building.

The first to catch their eyes was the great heraldry that hung from the back wall, a magnificently detailed tapestry featuring lances, unicorns, crescent moons, and stars, following a silver-and-blue theme. Though the meaning and symbolism were mostly lost to them, the motto of the Order of Silver Light, sewn into the bottom, was clear: “Salutis Ad Lucem.”

Words that they did not understand. Words from a foreign, yet vaguely familiar language. Words…and yet, nothing came in mind.
Neither could ruminate for long anyways, as Gavriel brought them up a forked flight of stairs onto the second floor, turning right down the hallway before arriving at the purported destination. Twin doors were pulled open to unveil a kitchen area, stocked with dried meats, vegetables, fruits, jars of fermented juice, and…

“Geh.”

…a lanky, freckle-faced youth, moments away from stuffing his face with a hunk of cured ham.

Gavriel let out a sigh. “Darius…midnight snacks will only h-”

“Oh hey, I’m not the one inviting two girls over without telling the Grandmaster about it, Big G.” The younger man grinned devilishly as exasperation clouded his senior’s expression, before popping the ham in his mouth and chewing away.

The blond hunk sighed again, before waving generically in the gluttonous kid’s direction. “Ladies, Darius. Darius, ladies. Offering food to travellers is a more noble pursuit compared to your nighttime food-pillaging, so if you’d like for me to keep silent…”

“Right right,” the lad said, pointing both index fingers at Gavriel, “Do some fancy bachelor cooking to impress the ladies, yea?”

“Keep it light.”

Darius laughed. “Hey now, Gabe, if they’re knocking here this late at night for food, it’s obvious First Light’s affair wasn’t enough for ‘em. Ladies, I’m Paladin Darius, member of the Order of Silver Light and Gold-Ranked Member of the Silver Moon Army. They call me the Blue Fang of Sirius, the Bright Hammer of the Wild Hunt, the Forge-Hearted, but tonight…you can call me ‘Chef’. Now, how would you like me to entertain your tongues on this fine, moonlit evening?”

Gavriel leaned against a wall, half-amused. “Don’t mind him too much. All the girls in his party are taken, so he’s been thirsting pretty hard recently.”

"Damn, always going low blows when it's a guy, huh?

"Just for you, you bum."

@Skyswimsky@changejar

He couldn’t quite repress his sigh of relief when the priest said they didn’t have to pay to spend the night at the HUGE church. He had little concept of the currency here, but if the charity he’d seen Etono giving to panhandlers was any indication, the silver coins he’d gotten from ‘Mathers’ were more than this type of lodging was worth. He would have doubted the people seeking refuge here would have been able to pay more than what he’d seen Etono giving out. “We understand,” Matteo said aloud, making a mental note to return with a more appropriate donation once he had a better idea of what he was dealing with.

The mention of soup provoked another sigh from the small man, this one more longing. “Ah-- really? I might just do that, thank you.” So this place fed the poor as well as housed them. As someone utterly lost in these new surroundings he’d found himself in without memories to speak of, Matteo felt a mild glow of admiration and gratitude for this place. Would he have felt the same if he wasn’t down on his luck? Probably not, but it didn't matter. He pulled himself to his feet and shakily made his way over to the soup cauldron, following his nose.

As he waited patiently to be dished up with thin broth, he wondered how serious the priest's offer to join this place had been. All offers at this stage merited consideration, didn’t they? He wondered just how much of an exaggeration the promised ‘bloodshed’ and ‘suffering’ had been-- to a person who lived this kind of life, healing victims and tending to the weak, surely it must seem that way. His pondering and wandering thoughts made him realize that he was very, very tired.

”If we have to be up at ‘first light’ we’d better get some rest,” he said to Ash and Aoi, settling back into the hard wooden pew with his soup. “Thanks again for getting me here. We’ll…” he trailed off. We’ll what? Talk about what happened? Try to get more information out of the Silver Moon recruiter? Find out where the blonde girl who’d been with them in the office had gone, or where the best place to hide from Old Bear might be in this city? “...we’ll do something in the morning.”

Aoi followed silently, still full of regret, as she filled a bowl of the thin, free meal of broth given to them. Blowing at her spoon she sipped and tasted it, sighing with a sense of relief that she was actually getting food into her stomach as Aoi had not remembered the last time she ate something.

She was inhaling a few mouthfuls when Matteo stated his thanks, Aoi nodding silently with a plastered smile. "I promise not to get into any trouble tomorrow."

As she finished her soup, Aoi returned the plate thanking the nuns and volunteers for the meal that was provided. Her eyes wandered at the homeless folk that filled the room, with a crooked smile on her face. What was she really in and how did she get there? Those were the questions that filled her head as she returned back to join her two friends.

"I would like to thank you for the offer of joining the covenant, but I think at this time, we are unable to." Ash said, her tone deliberate and authentically polite.

If she joined the church, she would most likely be safe. However, she would also live the rest of her life as a nun. Ironically, spending fourty, fifty, or even sixty years helping others wasn't the life Ash wanted to live. She would rather end her life than live an indentured one.

While prospects of soup sounded nice, she already had her pork. Having soup meant for those who had nothing to eat while she had some food in her pocket would feel wrong. She ate what remained of the slab and rested on a lonesome pew near the two. She had hidden her bloated coin bag between her chest and hands, keeping what little possessions she had safe.

"Yea, it would be for the best if we rest now. Reconvene after, then," Ash said to the others with a hesitating pause, "we figure this all out."

And then she went to sleep on the miserably hard wooden pews.