Chapter 13

The light of the setting sun was slowly dwindling as the holy body descended below the city of the stronghold's high walls. Trails of smoke drifted into the sky, covering the city in a grey smaug, creating a violet haze.. It was actually kind of beautiful, the way the light bounced off the smoke, reflecting atop the tiled roofs.

Staring out the window from his bed, Archivauld yawned, and stretched, grimacing as a twinge of pain lanced up his leg. Sitting up in bed,

rolled his shoulders, rubbing his eyes. It was probably about time to get his lazy butt out of bed. He had pretty much wasted the whole day, mostly on sleep and just relaxing. Archivauld had been exhausted for obvious reasons, sleeping like the dead for a solid fifteen hours.

 Despite the bed being small, it was like the softest feather mattress compared to the sleeping roll he was used to. Tugging on his boots, he grumbled as his toes poked through the ends of the leather. Probably should buy some new ones.

His pants and shirt were not much better off, threadbare, and full of holes. Even so, he tugged them on. He couldn't exactly be too choosy given the circumstances.

After dressing, he made his way down the stairs , through the late noon crown and out onto the busy streets. The city was a bustle of activity, and he was just another person in the crowd.

Archivauld was excited to get out and explore, to see what kind of things a city in the inner expanse could boast.

He roamed the streets, scanning shop fronts, and just seeing the sights. He was in good spirits after having snagged a skewer of roasted monster meat from a street stall. 

He was just starting to get in the groove when he spotted a group of masked inquisitors. The pre-dusk crowd gave the group a wide berth as the inquisitors were frisking a citizen.

Archivauld kept up his pace, slowly turning towards the far side of the road as he moved down the street. As he walked passed the group, he glanced over, getting a good look at the man being interrogated. The man was tall, and lanky, surprisingly close to fitting Archivuald's general build.

By now he was close enough to hear what they were saying. 

"Give us your papers," the inquisitor demanded. 

When the man didn't offer any paperwork, one of the guards gestured towards his chest 

"I don't have any papers on me, i left them at home," the man stammered, clearly flustered.

"Alright, if you aint got no papers, take off your shirt, and we can be done with this," the guard said.

"Take off my shirt? You can't demand that! This is a violation of my rights!" the flustered man stammered indignantly.

The accosting guard rocked back on his heels, giving the man a decidedly malicious smile. .

"Declining is your right. However, if you do not comply, we will have to take you down to the barracks, for further questioning," 

The line of questions made a Archivuald's back slick with sweat. He forcibly kept his pace to a casual walk, only speeding up once he was out of sight.

He decisively fled away from the inquisitor and those two guards. Well, shit! That threw a rock into his plans now didn't it.

He wanted to slap himself. Of course they were looking at people's chests! The inquisition was not idiots. People's appearances could be changed, but how could someone hide having two tattoos?

He let out an annoyed sigh. So much for being able to freely roam the city. This would make finding his intended target much more difficult.

Pulling up his hood, he entered an alley, heading deeper into slums. He would have headed back to the tavern, but the sun was already setting, and he had scumbags to find. 

Archivuald wasn't sure exactly who he was looking for, but the criminal element of Stronghold was pervasive. Finding the right individual was going to be the tricky part. As such, his plan wasn't the most thought out. He was simply going to find some people up to no good, then ask them where he could find someone skilled in making fake identities.

The more he thought about it, the more flaws he picked out. To be fair, this was way out of his element, more in Yurlan's domain.

It was quite unfortunate the man had died, he would have been very useful at a time like this. Sadly, Yurlan wasn't around, which left Archivuald with little to no options.

Despite the inquisition resorting to strip searching, he still needed that fake identity sooner rather than later. If he did, he might be able to get his hands on a rift walker guild membership token. Flashing one of those around would deter almost any inquisitors from trying to strip search him.

He shook his head. He couldn't put the cart before the horse. Archivauld needed to get the fake identification that could fool an essence scanner before he could sign up for a guild. 

All he had to do was find someone who could make one. So far, his place was simple. His best bet was to roam the dark alleys, and seedy taverns in hopes of finding someone who could lead him to the person he was looking for.

As it turns out, roaming the alleys at night while wearing a dark cloak and acting sketchy attracted all sorts of attention. Everything from angry cats hissing at him, to the occasional bum asking for a hand out.

Nothing too troublesome. Archivauld had been wandering the lower districts for most of the night now, and was almost bored by the time he was accosted. It honestly took a lot longer than he expected it would.

His ankle was aching something fierce, and he was about ready to call it a night when two men moved to block his path. Another thing he would need those fake papers for, to see a skill healer.

He shook the thought from his mind, focusing on the two interlopers in front. All it took was a glance over his shoulder to spot another behind him. 

The two in front didn't brandish weapons, but their rigid posture spoke to their malicious intentions.

"Can I help you?" Achivuald asked, his voice calmer than he expected it would be.

"Of course you can. You see, we are in need of some silvers to buy passage on the barge across the river sticks. We figured you might be able to help out," the man on the left said reasonably.

"I'm sorry sirs, but I have no silver to spare," Archivuald said.

Sharing a glance, the two men in front cast aside all pretence, drawing blades. 

"Give us everything ya have on ya, or we will gut you like a fish and leave to die in this alley," the thug on the left spat.

Thug on the right twirled his knife between his fingers in a fanciful display. 

"Don't be a fool kid, give us the pouch and you can go," the second thug said.

Archivauld cocked his head, ignoring their demands. "I am looking for a black market merchant to sell my wares to. You wouldn't happen to know someone, would you?" Archivauld asked.

"What the pitt are you talking about? Give us your damn money," thug on the right demanded.

Tugging aside his cloak, Archivauld pulled his bearded ax from its loop, the edge gleaming in the moonlight. He didn't actually intend on attacking, but it was more so they would take him seriously. 

Archivauld smiled, holding the ax casually at his side. "I'm not looking for trouble, the opposite in fact. How about this? For the inconvenience, I will give you one silver each for the three of you. All you have to do is tell me where to find the person I'm looking for, call it a finders fee," Archivuald said reasonably. 

The two, clearly dumber than a bag of bricks, shared a long glance. After a few seconds, the thug on the right shook his head.

"Who's asking? Why do you need a fence for?" The man asked his eyes gleaming with greed as they darted to the pouch at Archivauld's hip.

 Figuring he was the leader of this rag tag bunch, Archivuald gave the right man a bright smile. 

"What do you say? A silver each, with no hassle,"

The surly man scowled, his glinting with greed as he eyed Archivauld's purse.

"That's quite generous, but what do you need a fence for?"

Archviuald gave the man an even stare. "Someone who can forge documents that can pass most inspections. I am willing to pay for good quality service," Archivauld said.

The man sucked loudly on a yellow tooth. 

"Your purse must be quite heavy if you are looking to buy forged documents. That's a nice axe, but it won't save you, it's still three on one," the man said.

With that, the two moved forward, with the third bringing up the rear.

Archivauld let out a frustrated breath. Well, they asked for it. Essence flooded from his reservoir, entering the second eye of the dark god. Darkness swirled above his head, a vortex rapidly expanding. The two men in front of him instinctively looked up as they approached. It was a horrible mistake.

Archivuald didn't dare to look up, to witness the true abyss. Somehow, he just knew that to look into the eye was to gaze upon oblivion. It was to lose all sense of self, and enter the realm of the ghastly realm of the dark god.

It was a quick yet brutal ending, the two men collapsing lifeless onto the cobbles. He whirled, the eye already dissipating above him. Seeing the first two die so easily, the third thief had wisely run for their life, having witnessed the death of their comrades. 

Archivauld didn't pursue, turning back and looking down at the unmoving corpses with mixed emotions. They had been trying to rob and even kill him. By law, he had every right to defend himself. Despite that, guilt clawed at him. 

He was not like Parcival, or Tanur, who enjoyed killing. The thought made him scowl, reminding him of the asshole who got away. Parcival was still out there somewhere, probably inside Stronghold.

Archviauld really wanted a reunion, the bloody kind, but the city was large, and finding one person like a needle in a haystack. That didn't mean he wouldn't look, but first things first. Finding Parcival would have to wait.

Archivuald bent over and rifled through the dead men's pockets, finding only a few silvers between them. Certain the fleeing thief would return with friends, Archivauld decided to make himself scarce.

Picking an alley at random, he set off, moving away from the scene of the murders. They were self defence, but the city guard would require a lot of uncomfortable questions that Archviauld didn't wish to answer.

He decided it was for the best to flee. He shook his head. So far, his self appointed quest to find a black market dealer was not off to a great start. Two people were dead, and it was only his first day in the city.

Not exactly a great start. On the bright side, he was a couple silver richer. One could say he was a glass quarter full kind of guy. He fled the scene at a quick jog, before slowing to a walk once he was a couple blocks away.

It was agonizing to walk when there could be pursuers, but his time on the street after being tossed from the order had taught him much. Running would draw more attention than someone casually strolling down the street. Hood raised, he took several random alleys, taking random streets for nearly an hour. 

At this point, he was nearly certain no one was following.

As certain as he could be all things considered. Going into his other form was an option to give the streets a once over with his superior eyes, but then again, that would reveal the ace up his sleeve to anyone watching.

His other, more monstrous form wasn't exactly low-key in terms of appearance. He quickly dismissed the option. No, it was better to hold that in reserve. Better to return to the tavern he was staying at via a circuitous route.

Two hours later, he finally found the tavern he was staying in. Stepping inside, the dim lights of lanterns and raucous cheer washed over him. 

A wall of heat washed over him, replacing the muggy air of the summer night.

Letting out a tired sigh, he made his way to the bar. 

"A tall mug of ale please, the colder the better," Archivuald said.

"Would you like anything to eat with that?" the short barkeep asked, giving Archivuald a once over.

"Give me your special of the evening," 

"Sure thing," The keep immediately shuffled away, hailed by another patron.

Archivauld didn't mind the brusk treatment, sitting and swiveling on his stool at the bar to take in the bustling crowd.

Late evening, the tavern was packed with the hardworking folk of the city, coming to burn their hard earned silvers on cold ale and good company. 

There were even a couple rift walkers present.. They were as you can expect for people frequenting a shithole like this. Archivauld gave the quartet a once over, from their low quality weapons, to their mediocre equipment. 

The group looked like they were on tough times, not a single one of them having a guild heraldry on their tattered cloaks. It was a surprisingly common sight.

Talent, birthright, and connections were all huge factors that most simply didn't have.

Joining the Order, or the Cult, offered similar benefits, but those usually came with certain caveats. Joining one of the rift walkers guilds usually provided the same opportunities, with a lot more freedom than the two religious orders. 

Archivauld couldn't blame those who chose a guild, considering how the Order kicked him out.

He had almost no experience with the cult, or its members, but they were probably Zelous assholes, too. Scowling, Archivauld took a long drink of his ale, the cool brew doing little to drown out the swell of unpleasant memories.

It wasn't only his time in the order that hadn't gone according to plan. It seemed like everything had gone to shit since he had been thrown on his ass.

Well, things really started to go to shit back when a bum tried to mug him. That scuffle, and the mans death, were just another log on the fire to all of Archivauld's misfortune.

He sighed, waving to the barkeep for another beer.

More ale was required to drown out his dower mood. The bar keep replaced his empty mug with a full one, foam sloshing over the top as the barkeep set the mug down.

Archivauld tipped back his pint, the cool ale doing wonders to improve his mood.

He let out a satisfied sigh as he set the mug down. Beer was the great equalizer, an could solve most problems. His slowly improving mood was ruined as a man sat on the stool next to him.

There were quite a few other stools open further down the bar, with Archivauld being in the far corner, to be away from people.

This guy clearly was here for him.

"Can I help you?" Archivauld asked. 

The man gave him a sidelong glance, not replying until the barkeep dropped off a mug of ale.

The man, with wholey unassuming features finally glanced over at Archivauld. In a low, casual voice he said.

"You killed two of our men tonight, why?" 

Achivauld felt the man's chilling gase boring into him, seeming more curious than angry.

Archivauld hesitated. Was the man bluffing? Doubtful. He must have followed Archivauld here. 

That didn't leave him with many options. He could lie, or tell the truth, either of which would probably lead to threats and more killing. Lying would get him nowhere, since this man obviously knew he did the deed. Not ideal.

Archivauld took a deep breath before responding. 

"I simply asked them if they knew where I could find a fence, and they tried to kill me. Their deaths are their own folly," Archivuald replied.

The man gave him the side eye. 

"What do you need a fence for?" He asked curiously.

"I'm in need of documents, ones that can fool most forms of verification. I am willing to pay forty silver for the service," Archivauld said. 

The unassuming man's eyes gave him another once over, from his worn and tattered cloak to his threadbare shirt.

Archivauld snorted in derision.

"I am not lying, I have the silver, as long as you can supply the official documents I need," Archivauld said.

The unassuming man's eyes darted to the right, then back, his face difficult to read.

 "I will talk to the boss. If you want to know what they say, meet me at the golden goose eatery in two nights,"

With that, the man, having not so much as introduced himself, stood and left the bar, having left a half silver as payment. Archivauld hesitated, watching the man leave.. Well, that had been surprisingly cordial. Going to the golden goose eatery was likely to be much less so. 

Despite that, the possibility that he might acquire proper documents was incredibly tempting. All he had to do was come out alive, which might be easier said than done, considering he killed two of their subordinates.