Emperor Night

The heat of the midday sun beat down upon Jonathan's face, sweat dripped from his forehead. He was bruised, hungry and exhausted. As far as Jonathan could tell, he was stuck here and it was time to start surviving. Jonathan looked out into the bustling market square in front of him. Hundreds of people flowed between the stalls, buying and selling an assortment of goods, equipment and other oddities. Perhaps he could find something to eat here and maybe even some decent clothes that weren't in tatters. Jonathan had scoured his previous hideout for something to wear but had only found a large burlap sack which he opted to use to hide away his newly acquired spear. He didn't want the strange weapon to draw unwanted attention.

Jonathan waded through the sea of people. Most of the crowd seemed familiar enough, an assortment of men and women of all ages going about their business but every now and then Jonathan would get a glimpse of some bizarre looking person with fiery red skin or pointed ears and sharp features; the weirdest being a figure that towered above the masses, almost twice the size of the surrounding market goers. He had bulky muscles, barely hidden by his furs and chiseled jawline sharp enough that it cut the skyline as he lumbered. 'Better not get in the way of that guy.' Jonathan thought as he journeyed around the giant and toward a nearby clothing stand.

The stand was lined with garbs of all shapes and sizes. Almost all of them in a medieval cut and over saturated with color. It seemed like everyone was into bright tacky clothing. Jonathan cycled through the clothing rack looking for something that would be able to obscure his face, perhaps something with a hood. He picked out the only dark clothing that he could find on the rack. The cloak was a deep and dreamy midnight blue with a riding hood attached. After a few more minutes of searching through the various racks he collected the blandest shirt and pants that he could find. Both were a dull off-blue color and kind of scratchy to the touch. He approached the flamboyantly dressed middle aged man running the stand.

"How much for these?" Jonathan asked, handing them over to the man.

"The shirt and pants are 40 bits each, the cloak is 200." The man said as he rifled through the garments.

Jonathan eyes widened, it dawned on him that he didn't know the value of the coins he had on him. He really hoped each one was worth more than a 'bit'. He pulled out a coin from his pocket to examine it.

"Woah big spender are we? Got anything smaller than a crown? I got to keep change on hand you know." The merchant twiddled his mustache as he spied the coin.

"Uh, no sorry. This is all I have." Jonathan handed over the coin to the man. The merchant sighed as he opened up the pouch attached to his belt. He counted out various square and triangle shaped coins and handed them over to Jonathan in a separate coin pouch.

"There you go my dear boy, 710 bits. I charged you 10 for the pouch. Next time you would do best to carry around some change. Flashing crowns around is a sure way to draw attention from the wrong people."The man lectured. "Where are you from anyway? You aren't wearing any sort of clothing I've ever seen before."

"Ah." Jonathan hesitated. "From a far away place, you probably haven't heard of it."

"Try me." the merchant insisted.

"Gotham." Jonathan spurted out the first place that came to mind.

"Goth-am?" The merchant sounded out the words. "Alright, you win, never heard of it. Is that across the burning sea?"

"Yeah." Jonathan lied.

"Well, you'd best learn how things are done in Cliffside my boy. If you're not careful you wont last long here." The merchant pointed to a small rickety looking changing room attached to the side of his stall. "Feel free to use that changing room. You best cover up your glow. If you get my meaning." Jonathan looked down to his c.h.e.s.t and noticed his Sorcerer mark's purple glow was seeping through his ripped shirt.

"Yes, thank you for your help." Jonathan hurried to the changing room and donned his new clothes. He placed his old tattered ones into his burlap sack along side Zigarete's spear. The shirt and pants were a touch too tight and coarse against Jonathan's skin but they would do for now. He raised the cloak's hood over his head as he left the changing room. The new outfit hid his mark well. He placed down another crown on to the table next to the merchant.

"For your troubles." Jonathan said as he left. The merchant had knew too much but hopefully the extra incentive would keep him stay quiet.

"Thank you kindly my boy. Come back here anytime!" The merchant said with glee as he took the coin and burrowed it away in his coin pouch.

By Jonathan's reckoning, each crown was worth 1000 bits, that would mean that Jonathan had around 8710 bits on him. But that number meant very little without knowing what a single bit was actually worth. Jonathan explored the market square, taking note of everything that had it's price listed. He noticed that bread, meats and produce were around the 1 to 20 bit price range. Something like a single piece of fruit was a single bit. He didn't recognize many of the foreign looking produce but that was a problem for later. A whole cooked bird, perhaps a chicken, but it seemed a bit on the lean side, cost around 20 bits. After a few more minutes comparing other items, Jonathan had determined that 2 bits were roughly equal to a US dollar back home. At least Lily had given him a significant amount of funds to work with.

Jonathan purchased an assortment of food from various vendors. His appetite was fierce, he hadn't eaten a bite since he had arrived in this strange new world. He retrieved a small milky blue orb from his sack, the elderly lady at the fruit stand had called it a frostdew. He bit into the fruit cautiously, it's flesh was soft and it tasted sweet and minty. It was good. He devoured the whole thing, almost inhaling it. Three frostdews later and Jonathan felt satisfied. At least he could look forward to trying out some unique food whilst he was stuck here.

The sun started to set by the time Jonathan decided to head back to his hideout. He had purchased quite a number of items that he thought would be useful in the days to come. Rope, flint, steel, rations, a small dagger, a bed roll and a proper backpack to store it all in. He had barely even made a dent in funds, he still had 8 crowns and 550 bits left. But if his Economics degree had taught him anything, it was that funds, no matter how large, would eventually dry out unless they were properly invested. He was probably going to need to use some of that money to get out Cliffside and he didn't relish the idea of running into Zigarete and her men again. After he was safetly out he might be able to find a job.

Jonathan continued to ponder as he turned down an alleyway that connected to the market square, he had taken great care to remember the way back to his hideout, down several twists and turns. He was almost back when he heard a voice from around the corner.

"No... Please, stop." the gentle and reserved voice cried out in anguish.

Jonathan hesitated, it wasn't safe for him to be getting all nosy right now but he wasn't the kind of person to just ignore that kind of plead. He looked around to see if there was anyone nearby that could help but he stood alone. Mustering up some courage he approached the alley and pressed himself up against the edge of the rundown house at the edge of the alley. He pulled out the magical spear from it's burlap sack and held it at the ready as he peered around the corner.

A red-skinned woman with ghostly blue hair was pinned against the wall by a weasely-looking man. The woman's once modest tunic laid in tatters on the dirty ground. The man had his dagger pressed up against the woman's back and his pants around his ankles. He was firmly groping the woman's b.r.e.a.s.t, which seemed to overflow in his hand. The man's c.o.c.k was savagely thrusting inside the woman who struggled against his length.

"Shut up you Ashborn whore." The man grunted, his wirey voice matching his weasely look. The woman whimpered meekly. Her face was pushed firmly up against the wall and in her struggle she noticed Jonathan peeking out from around the corner. Her glowing white eyes pleaded for help as her assaulter continued to vigorously thrust inside of her. Jonathan pulled back around the corner for a moment, grasping the magical spear he further steeled his resolve and stepped out from behind the wall.

"Let her go!" Jonathan shouted pointing the spear towards the weasely man. 'What the hell am I doing?' He thought, a split moment after the words came out from his mouth.

The man glanced over towards Jonathan "F.u.c.k off, I'm busy." he said as he pulled back the Ashborn woman's hair. He was just about done and wanted to fill up the red-skinned whore he had in front of him.

Before Jonathan could think, he was charging towards the pair. He pointed the magical spear in front of him as he closed the distance. Jonathan stopped just short of the man the tip of the spear pointed at the weasely man's c.h.e.s.t. Could he really attack another person? The weasely man grasped his dagger and turned towards Jonathan. The sudden sound of flesh tearing filled Jonathan's ears as the dagger clinked harmlessly to the ground. The spear had pierced straight through the man but it was not of Jonathan's doing. No, the liquid-like metal had extended through the attacker's c.h.e.s.t and pierced his heart. The spear molded back into it's original shape as the man fell limp to the ground.

The Ashborn woman turned to face Jonathan. She picked up her tattered tunic and covered herself ineffectually.

"You saved me." She said with uncertainty filling her words.

"I don't think it was me." Jonathan was overwhelmed. "I... I have to get out of here." He turned and fled the scene. He didn't look back.