The SMP

2- Threats

Whim was the first to wake up, despite only having a short six hours of sleep, rising and heading downstairs, maneuvering past the two now hopefully sober nineteen year olds who had fallen onto the floor and down to the inn, where he greeted Stampy with a curt nod, heading outside for fresh air.

The sun wasn't high, the time only being six am, but people were out an about anyway, setting up shops, going into places for breakfasts, and the few earlier birds getting to the market that was open at the time. Whim's group would need more food, weather it be bread or just dried fruit, he knew the others didn't mind, so he set out for the market, watching his surroundings carefully, he was hoping for the trip to be quick.

It took two hours.

Whim got all that the trio would need for the upcoming weeks, but two hours was a bit much, considering most thought they could try and shout that Whim had stolen things when he'd payed full price for everything. Of course, nobody payed attention to the shop keepers, but Whim still felt like he was being followed, his bag that contained the supplies probably hindering from taking flight quickly should he be mugged, but nobody dared look in his direction, that much was seen by how people still parted way for him.

Whim's walking was brought to a brief halt as he spotted a crowd, looking over quickly to see a figure being arrested.

"That's weird." Whim muttered to himself "There are no police here."

But when he looked closer, it made sense. There, stood three of the thirty he'd seen the night before, the vigilante types. They were arresting a figure with blood gracing her features, but upon closer inspection, it clearly wasn't hers, the blood being neon green and blue, splattering all over her form, too much for the owner to be alive now. She was shouting curses to the trio, trying to cast spells, but ultimately failing because she wasn't a witch.

Whim turned and continued on his journey back to Stampy's inn, taking a rough shortcut through and alley that was abandoned, no thugs had dared cross him yet, and anyone who tried to mug him were dead men walking.

"You there."

Guess there was a dead man walking behind Whim, but the male just kept walking

"Stop right there!"

Two of them? Man, people were stupider these days. Whim simply kept going

"Thief! Stop right now!"

Three now. Was it the trio from before? No, they were arresting what seemed to be a murderer. Whim simply shrugged to himself and kept on going, halfway across the alley and to Stampy's tavern.

"Hey!"

Someone grabbed his sleeve, Whim dragging them along, grumbling slightly under the extra weight.

"He isn't stopping, can we apprehend him now?"

"I'd advise against it." Whim said, dusting off the stranger that still held onto his sleeve "If you want to live." he finally stopped

"You're under arrest." A fourth said coolly

"What's the charge?" Whim questioned

"Stealing." The other replied

"Those shop keeps send ya?" Whim questioned "Or did you just listen and not look at what I was doing?"

"We heard the yells." the first said "We know you've been to several shops and stolen from them all."

"If the person who was following me were competent, they would have seen that I go to the shadier, cheaper shops who always look for one of you so they can falsely charge." Whim replied before continuing on "Come back when you have valid concern." He made it out of the alley, walking across the street to Stampy's inn, entering quickly and nodding to the owner, ducking into the shared room, both of his companions groaning as they took care of their hangovers.