Rosehill Irregulars: The Closed City

Chapter 5

 The waterside was silent apart from the creaking of the dock's boards beneath Thaddeus's boots. He cast sidelong glances at each storefront he passed. Each shopkeeper they passed was busy scrubbing a curiously persistent spot on their counter or quickly looked away. For a bustling hub of trade, Stormborne was woefully lacking in liveliness. And in geniality. One merchant stood at his stand, eyes wide as saucers. Just as Thaddeus past him, he heard a sharp "psst."

"You, newcomers!" he whispered loudly. He beckoned for Thaddeus to approach. "You should get off the docks. At least until later." Thaddeus put a hand on Krissa's shoulder to stop her. She looked at him curiously for a moment, then at the man.

"Why?" Thaddeus asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Is that why nobody is around?"

"Yes, and you should follow everyone else's lead. The Barracudas make their rounds about this time every day. Most folk have caught on and steer clear in the meantime." His eyes darted up and down the dock. They stopped on something down the row and grew even wider. "Yes, yes, go! Quickly, if you value your coin!."

Thaddeus followed the merchant's eyes. Farther down the dock three figures made their way from one storefront to the next. They'd stop in front of each storefront and exchange some unheard words. Thaddeus saw a bag tossed towards the man apparently leading the gang. After pocketing the bag, they moved on to next shop in the row. Even from the distance, Thade could pick up on a curious uniformity to their outfits. Specifically that each wore pitch black clothing. Certainly not the sort of clothing he'd associate with typical tax collectors.

"They're the reason we should leave?" Thaddeus asked, nodding towards the roaming men as the leader pocketed a bag the other shopkeeper handed them. The trembling samaritan still watched the collectors from over his counter as they grew closer by another shop. He glanced back at Thaddeus and nodded.

"Yes, that's them. Now for the love of Everion get off the docks!" he hissed through clenched teeth. Thaddeus pursed his lips.

"Couple of no-good thieves. We should run 'em off. What do you think?" Krissa asked, eyeing Thaddeus.

"You know what I think," he replied. He looked at the shopkeeper. "We'll be back."

"What are you doing? They'll-" the shopkeeper cut himself off and brushed the two adventurers off with a despondent wave of his hand. He'd seen what happened to folks who stood up to them. A couple of out-of-towners wouldn't fare much better, at least not in the long run.

Thaddeus kept his shoulders pulled back as he marched down the dock towards the men. Krissa followed close behind him, maintaining a slow jog in order to match his pace. The collectors had moved onto another shop. A wooden sign hung above the door. "Tharkad & Disad's Blades" was printed in stark black ink. The black-clad bagman rapped his fingers against the door. After a short pause, he reached to knock again. Just as his knuckles touched the door, it swung inward.

The one who knocked, a pale, almost sickly, man with matted black hair peeked over at the approaching Irregulars. He put a hand up to stop the person who had answered the door.

"Well, well," he said, looking them up and down with his icy blue eyes. "I don't think I've seen your faces around here before. But uh," he put up a finger, "could you please stay over there for a moment? This young woman and I are having a chat," he said, motioning to the person in the door. A face peeked around the corner. Thaddeus caught a glimpse of dark gray skin, thick, braided hair and a distinctly feminine face. Her eyes darted from him to the man in her door.

"We're not talking," she said, straightening her stance and staring down the man. "I'll say the same as I've said every other day, Conrad: you can pry my profits right out from my cold, dead hands."