Whispers In Carrowhelm

The child did not respond. The boy's eyes flickered between Dion and the blood-stained earth below him. 

"I am not going to hurt you," Dion said softly, setting a silver coin in the boy's palm. "For the healer."

The boy finally muttered, "Why... why did you help me?"

Dion gave a weary smile. "Because someone helped my village when we were in trouble."

As he stood to turn and leave, the boy spoke again.

"My name's Tio....Eva's my sister."

Tio stood defiantly in the alley, watching Dion with cautious eyes. "You helped me," he muttered, "but you're not going to see Eva. She doesn't trust strangers. I don't either." His words were challenging though choked under his battered breath. 

Dion gave a slight smile and stepped back. "That's fine. Just make sure she gets better."

Tio stared uncertainly at the ground before him, then lifted his head and nodded. "I owe you...but the Fangbacks won't let this go. They are one of the worst street gangs in Carrowhelm. If you want to stay breathing, you should probably find the Rykers. They are rivals. Maybe they could help you if the Fangbacks come calling."

Before Dion could ask for clarification, Tio ran off into the crowd.

____

That evening, Arwin silently crept along the edge of the thick forest that bordered Carrowhelm. He was concealed in the shadows and watched as heavily weighed down carriages rattled along the muddy trails. He squinted as he saw a sleek carriage with royal insignia etched onto its wooden frame.

"The capital," he murmured in a whisper, barely audible. "So Mellon supplies them, too..."

He climbed a tall pine tree for a clearer view, though a mountain blocked much of the route. Just as he was ready to head deeper into the woods, he saw a tower flame flicker into view. His body immediately tensed. "Too open," he whispered, and swiftly slid back down the tree to avoid notice.

___

As night descended upon Carrowhelm, Arwin and Dion came together at the tavern.

Dion stood leaning against the wooden frame by the door, keeping a watchful eye. Inside, Arwin approached the bartender, who was looking more distracted than usual.

"You got the info?" Arwin asked.

The bartender nodded his head, hands trembling slightly, "It wasn't easy. Probably a bad idea to ask around about them. But I have something." He handed over a scroll of a small size. "Probably not much, but it leads somewhere."

Taking the scroll from the man, his eyes flickered at a man slumped over a barstool. Something about him—the posture, the rhythm of his breathing—felt intentional. 

Arwin opened his mouth, ready to discuss the man at the bar, but Dion stepped in first, "Let's go." 

When they got outside, the man lifted his head, revealing sharp eyes and a flicker of a smile. The man dropped a silver coin onto the bar and followed. 

"The kid's name was Tio," Dion was saying, casually walking through torch-lit streets, "he Tried to mug me, and I ended up having to protect him from the Fangbacks." 

"Gangs could be useful," Arwin murmured, mind reeling.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by five large men who stepped out, blocking the road ahead of them. Dion's fists clenched when he recognized the thug whose nose he'd smashed.

However, their discussion was cut off as five hulking figures stepped into the street ahead, blocking their way. Dion clenched his fists when he recognized the thug whose nose he had broken.

"Well, well," the leader said with a sneer. "Thought you could rough up our boys and just walk away from here, outsider?"

"We're not from the Rykers," Dion said coolly.

"Then that makes you easier prey," he said.

Arwin's hand drifted towards the scroll in his coat. "I'll get this to Luenor," he said in a whisper to Dion, "don't die."

Before the thug's heads could even turn around, Arwin kicked off the ground and flipped up onto a nearby awning, then jumped onto the rooftops. The Fangbacks cursed and clambered after him.

Dion turned around and cracked his knuckles. "Alright then, boys, let's dance."

The first thug rushed at him. Dion sidestepped as he stepped forward delivering a brutal uppercut that cracked a bone. The man spun in the air and dropped down. Another thug rushed in to stab him from the left and Dion grabbed his wrist, wrenching it back with a sickening pop first. Then he kneed him in the stomach. 

The leader snarled and pulled a curved blade. "You're dead."

Dion smirked. "Try me."

___

As always, Arwin was fleet-footed across the rooftops like a shadow. He could sense it however—he was being hunted. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He quickly adjusted his course and began taking alleyways and dropping lower to get distance from his pursuers.

When he leapt into a side alley, his boot slipped on the wet stone and he fell hard into some barrels. Groaning while trying to get to his feet—

He paused.

The dark figures watching from the rooftops encircled him and loomed.

There was a soft chuckle.

The man from the tavern appeared at the end the alley, the moonlight catching the glint of his eyes.

"You're good," he said, "but you're not that good."

Arwin got ready to stand in a fighting stance, his blade half-drawn.

The man raised one hand, and a dull gray rune glowed on his palm. "Sleep."

A pulse of mana vibrated through Arwin's being and his legs buckled. His eyesight turned fuzzy.

Darkness engulfed him.