It was difficult to get a read on just what the capabilities or specialties of the man were; he didn’t look imposing, though he certainly seed athletic. On the glasses-wearing familiar’s chest, he had an armory of knives kept strapped, along with trinkets of magical origin stored on his belt.
"Nice to et you," Gael said, holding his hand out.
The man with countless tools stored in his loose, unorganized uniform waited a mont before accepting his hand, looking at the capybara on the young man’s shoulder, "Oh? That is an interesting pet you’ve got there."
"Pu!" The capybara let out a bark-like sound in response.
"Ha-ha, a feisty one, at that," Matteo remarked, pulling away as he fixed his glasses. "So, I assu I’ve been summoned to aid you in a ti of dire. What is it I can assist you with?"
"Well, for starters, I’m sorta lost," Gael said. "Are you familiar with Galios at all?"
"Hmm, can’t say I am. I believe in my original life, this isn’t a kingdom that yet existed," Matteo answered, putting a hand to his chin. "Where is it you’re trying to go, Master?"
"It’s a building in the center of the city–a white, royal looking one. I’m supposed to et soone there," Gael answered.
"I see, I see. Well, I have just the tool that can help us!" Matteo announced.
He watched as the Jack of All Trades rummaged through the pouch on his belt before retrieving a round, silver object with a needle in the middle.
"A compass?" Gael questioned.
"Well, not just any old compass," Matteo answered with a smile, holding the trinket between them. "It guides you to your more desired destination–so long as you can envision it."
"Really? That sounds convenient," Gael remarked.
Matteo chuckled, adjusting his glasses as he handed the item over, "It won’t be as effective if I’m the one using it. After all, you know where you want to go, right?"
"Yeah, thanks," Gael accepted, holding the pristine compass in his palm.
As he put the image of the exuberant castle in his mind, the needle began to move, pointing north.
"Looks like north it is," Matteo claid, pointing ahead.
"Yeah, looks like it."
He felt fortunate to have called upon such a reliable familiar, keeping the compass in hand as he followed its directions. As he led the way, he glanced back, watching as Matteo observed the Paradise Sector like it was an unseen phenona.
"Not a guard in sight, a free market. Isn’t this an intriguing facet of society?" Matteo remarked with a smile, passing by a streetside vendor that sold conspicuous potions.
"It’s intriguing, I’ll give you that. I don’t know how much I’d like to stick around, though," Gael answered, glancing up from the compass, eting the gazes of thugs hanging around the cobblestone streets.
While the idea was to have his new familiar watching his back, it was hard to believe Matteo would be reliable in doing so. All he could hear was the curious man gawking at the sights of the Paradise Sector as though utterly interested in its lawless state.
’Just keep your head down and follow the compass. I’d like to stay out of trouble for the day,’ he thought, though didn’t know how realistic that plan would be.
As he walked up a staircase leading back to the main streets of the lawless sector, he briefly stopped as a carriage was pulled by wingless dragons through the cobblestone. Armored n rode on horses alongside the beast-pulled carriage, not seeming to be knights by their lack of sigils.
’Must be a powerful person. A rchant? Maybe a noble?’ He guessed, watching the protected carriage pass across the street.
Matteo stood beside him, writing aggressively into a journal he held while mumbling to himself, "There still exists so structure...An adherence to power, to so degree..."
"What’re you writing?" Gael asked, standing at the edge of the street.
The particular part of the unguarded sector he found himself at seed to be a quiet neighborhood, with the rickety hos kept boarded up without so much as a peep from any of the denizens.
Matteo stuffed the journal into his back pocket with a smile before answering, "Just notes. I like to take in every detail of new places I visit."
"I see...Well, let’s keep going," Gael said, following the compass’ direction as it led him through a narrow passage between houses.
He kept his eyes on the compass, not needing to look up as he entirely relied on it to lead him, only hearing the chatter from passing people and workers. The sll of fish filled the narrow, open market he passed through, glancing over to see a bald man unloading barrels of fish for his shop.
What he noticed most was the abundance of those without hos; sitting around the markets, so begging, so too exhausted to beg, or pessimistic of their chances. Passing by a woman wrapped in a tattered cloak, he flipped a gold coin to her.
The life in her eyes returned, almost glowing as she desperately caught the coin before nodding her head in gratitude. It wasn’t sothing he did to feel better about himself, simply feeling pity for their situation.
"That was generous of you," Matteo remarked with a smile, scribbling in his journal.
"Not really," Gael said. "I don’t even know what to do with the money I have."
As he looked down at the compass while passing through the fish-slling market, he took another few strides before–
He bumped directly into a stone wall; no, it only felt like it. He looked up, discovering he in fact ran directly into a man twice his size, covered in scars as though he’d ran through a cheese grater.
’--This is starting to beco a bad habit of mine,’ he thought with a sigh.
"Sorry, man," Gael apologized casually, waving his hand.
Though he attempted to casually brush it off, the scar-covered, brute of a man stared down at him with a complexion that reddened like a tomato.
"I’ll accept your apology in the form of five gold," the man built like a powerlifter demanded, flexing as his pecs bounced, not wearing anything but black overalls, outfitted with sheathed knives.
"Seriously? Are you that strapped for cash or sothing?" Gael responded with a raised eyebrow.
The sly remark was imdiately t with a vein bulging in the bald giant’s forehead, who sohow got even more red as he stepped closer, towering over the outsider, "You better watch it, pipsqueak. You know what they call around here?"
"Humor ," Gael said with a shrug.
"Moro, the Bone Crusher," the brute thug exhaled through his nostrils, cracking his knuckles. "Know how I got that na?"
"I’m guessing from crushing bones," Gael answered.
"Exactly!" Moro claid, rolling his shoulders as he cracked his neck side-to-side, imposing himself.
In the fish market, none of the vendors nor passing civilians intervened, either going on their way or spectating what was undeniably going to be a violent encounter.
’Seriously...What’s up with this city? It’s fight after fight,’ he thought.
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