User blog:Baluar/Chapter 5, was it?

Well, this is the first chapter I switch the character POV (you'll realize who she is). Hope you enjoy it guys!



A few hours earlier… 

Well, my brother commanded me to go get some food. While I don’t enjoy obeying him, I have to, because he’s not only my superior officer (and my older twin), but also because of his incredibly developed instinct to do what’s necessary to do when in dire situations. So following his instructions is probably the smartest thing to do at the moment. I go out, using a hooded longcoat.

Thing is, I don’t have the most minimum idea of where the hell I am supposed to get food. Rations can be acquired via interacting with Fenrir, but that’s exactly the last thing we’re supposed to do. However, the Merchant has to get his wares somewhere, and I once overheard that he goes to a black market located far in the Outer Ghetto, somewhere near the Southern-most point of the Anti-Aragami Armored Wall. That is probably the best place where I could go. So I decide to go there.

Well, after an hour and a half or so of walking, I am in the place. It isn’t that obvious it’s a black market if you look at the structure outside, but the amount of people entering and coming out of it is enough to make me realize it’s no family house.

Inside, it is a huge shed. Suddenly, I realize I didn’t consider a problem: where will I get the food? I’m lost in here. Not in the actual sense of the word, but I’m wandering around, purposelessly, for a long while. Then I meet the Merchant:

-If my eyes see well, I am in the presence of Nia.

<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-You don’t say…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-There’s no need to mock me, kid. I can help you.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-And what would you want in return? You’re a merchant, after all. You aren’t going to help me out of the goodness in your heart, or are ya?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-Don’t make me laugh. Just 50 fc and I’ll show you where you can get whatever you want.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-Deal. – 50fc… I’ve gotta take better care of the money. – Now, I need some food. A lot, actually.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-Ah, you could have said that earlier. I was just coming from buying the “rations” I later sell in the Den. You don’t need to follow me. It’s over there. – He points towards my right side.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-How will I recognize it?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">-You’ll smell nice food when you get nearby… Either that or they decided to do fried opossum again. – My face must be expressing the inner “YUCK!” I’m feeling, because he laughs and says: – Ha. I was just toying with you. When the food smell’s the strongest, you’ll be there. If you need more information, it’s a very rickety wood stand. You wouldn’t say it by looking at it, but their food is as good as it can be. See you, kid. Hope you still buy as much from me as you did before.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-bidi-font-size:20.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">We part ways, and I head over the place he marked for me. The shed is full of people of dubious origin, and I try to dissimulate as I get closer and closer to the source of a rather tasty smell. But then, someone just decided they have the guts to rob me of all what I carry. A young man, probably not 1.7 m tall, suddenly pops up from nowhere, with a knife, and tells me: -Give me all you have, sweetie, and maybe I won’t use this little toy I’ve got here. – Why do I always get the idiots?

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<p class="MsoNormal"> ---Arthur, feel free to do your usual TL,DR resume over here. And of course, post your opinions. That's why comments are enabled, guys.---