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The heat of the midday sun beat down upon Jonathan's face as sweat dripped from his forehead. He was bruised, hungry, and exhausted. As far as Jonathan could tell, he was stuck here, and it was about ti he started surviving. He looked out into the bustling market square in front of him. Hundreds of people flowed between the stalls, buying and selling an assortnt of goods, equipnt, and other oddities. Perhaps he could find so decent clothes that weren't in tatters or at the very least, find sothing to eat. Jonathan had scoured his previous hideout for sothing to wear that didn't make him look like a dayti TV car crash victim but had only found a large burlap sack. He opted to use the burlap sack to hide his newly acquired spear. He didn't want the strange weapon to draw any unwanted attention.
Jonathan waded through the sea of people. Most of the crowd seed familiar enough, an assortnt of n and won of all ages going about their business, but every now and then Jonathan would get a glimpse of so bizarre looking person with fiery red skin, or so elf analog with pointed ears and sharp features. The market patron being a figure that towered above the masses, almost twice the size of those around him. He had bulky muscles, barely hidden by his furs and chiselled jawline sharp enough to cut the skyline. The ground shook as he lumbered about. 'Better not get in the way of that guy.' Jonathan thought as he journeyed far away from the giant's path and toward a nearby clothing stand.
The stand was lined with garbs of all shapes and sizes. Almost all of them were of the sa dieval designs as the people around him. They were all completely oversaturated with colour. The people here were into bright, tacky clothing. Jonathan cycled through the clothes rack looking for sothing that would be able to obscure his face, preferably sothing with a hood. He picked out the only piece of dark clothing that he could find. The cloak was a deep and dreamy midnight blue complete with riding hood that would work well to hide his face. After a few more minutes of searching through the various racks he collected the blandest shirt and pair of pants that he could find. Both were a dull off-blue colour and made of rough fabric. He approached the flamboyantly dressed middle-aged man running the stand.
"How much for these?" Jonathan asked, handing his selection to the shopkeeper.
"The shirt and pants are 40 bits each, the cloak is 200." The man said as he rifled through the garnts.
Jonathan's eyes widened, he had no idea what a 'bit' was, he didn't know the value of the coins he had on him. Lily, the annoying blue fairy, had called the coins he had "crowns". He really hoped that each one of them was worth more than a 'bit'. He pulled out a crown 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 rchant twiddled his moustache as he spied the coin.
"Uh, no sorry. This is all I have." Jonathan handed over the coin to the man. The rchant sighed as he opened up the small fur 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 ti you would do best to carry around so change with you. Flashing crowns around is a sure way to draw attention from the wrong kinds of 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. "I'm from a faraway place, you probably haven't heard of it."
"Try ." the rchant insisted. "I've travelled all over Adearath."
"Gotham." Jonathan spurted out the first place that ca to mind.
"Goth-am?" The rchant 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 lad. If you're not careful you won't last long here." The rchant pointed to a small rickety looking 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 aning." Jonathan looked down to his chest and noticed his sorcerer mark's purple light seeping through his ripped shirt.
"Ah, yes, thank you for your help." Jonathan hurried to the changing room and donned his new clothes. He placed his old, tattered shirt and pants into his burlap sack alongside Zigarete's spear. The shirt and pants were a touch too tight, and the coarse fabric made Jonathan's skin itch, 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, barely a glimr to be seen. He placed down another crown onto the table next to the rchant.
"For your troubles." Jonathan said as he left. The rchant had definitely seen too much but Jonathan hoped the generous tip would incentivise him to keep quiet.
"Thank you kindly, lad. Co back anyti!" The rchant said with glee as he took the crown and burrowed it away into his coin pouch.
By Jonathan's reckoning, each crown was worth 1000 bits, that would an that Jonathan had around 8710 bits on him. But that number ant very little without knowing what the buying power of a single bit was. Jonathan explored the market square, taking note of everything that had its price listed. He noticed that bread, ats, and produce were around the 1 to 20 bit price range. Sothing like a piece of fruit was a single bit. He didn't recognize many of the foreign looking produce on display but that was a problem for later. A whole cooked bird that kind of resembled a chicken, but it seed 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 dollar back ho. At least Lily had given him a significant amount of money to work with.
Jonathan purchased an assortnt 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 purchased it from called the strange fruit a frostdew. He bit into the fruit cautiously, its 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's hunger was satiated. At least he could look forward to trying out so unique food whilst he was stuck here.
The sun was starting to set by the ti Jonathan decided to return to his hideout. He purchased quite a number of items that he thought would be useful in the days to co. Rope, flint, steel, rations, a small dagger, a bedroll, and a proper backpack to store it all in. The classic roleplaying adventure essentials. He had barely even made a dent in his 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 a pool, would eventually dry out unless they were properly invested, and he was probably going to need to use so of that money to get out Cliffside. He did not relish the idea of running into Zigarete and her n again. After he was safely out of Cliffside 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 morize the way back to his hideout, down a series of twists and turns. He had almost made it 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 nosy right now but he wasn't the kind of person to just ignore that kind of plea. He looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby that could help instead of him, no dice, he was the only one there. Mustering up so well-hidden courage he approached the alleyway where the sound of the voice was coming from. He pressed himself up against the edge of the rundown house that bordered the alley. He pulled out the magical spear from its 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 weaselly-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 young woman's breast, which seed to overflow in his hand. The man's cock savagely thrust inside the woman who struggled against his length.
"Shut up you ashborn whore." The man grunted, his wiry voice matching his weaselly look. The woman whimpered ekly. 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 indulge in his lust. Jonathan pulled back around the corner for a mont, grasping the spear he further steeled his resolve and stepped out from behind the wall.
"Let her go!" Jonathan shouted pointing the spear towards the assaulter. 'What the hell am I doing?' He thought, a split mont after the words ca out from his mouth.
The man glanced over towards Jonathan "Fuck 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 nice and well.
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 attacker. The tip of the spear pointed at the rapist's chest. Could he really attack another person? The weaselly man grasped his dagger and turned towards Jonathan. The sudden sound of flesh tearing reverberated within Jonathan's ears. The man's dagger clinked harmlessly to the ground. The spear had pierced straight through the man's chest, but Jonathan didn't rember thrusting it forward. No, the strike wasn't of Jonathan's doing, the liquid-like tal had extended through the attacker and pierced his heart. Jonathan watched as the spear moulded back into its original shape, the man falling limp to the cobbled ground.
The ashborn woman turned to face Jonathan. She picked up her tattered tunic and covered herself ineffectually.
"You saved ." She said with uncertainty filling her words.
"I don't think it was who saved you, it was the spear." Jonathan was overwheld. "I... I have to get out of here." He turned and fled the scene. He didn't look back.
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