TRASH - Act 1: The Spinner

Maddison tried to shrug the hand off his shoulder to leave, swinging around when it pressed down harder. He greeted the scowling farmer with a challenging glare, tapping the hilt of his sword as a silent warning to move aside. "Not looking to fight."

"Heroguard won't take well to you drawing that here." Gregorich chimed, grabbing another mug to give a good wipe. He nodded to two grinning miners who had already strapped their knuckles up with leather. "Teach him a lesson."

Maddison looked around for something that could speed up the inevitable fight. This likely wasn't Gregorich's first rowdy customer from the way he had laid the counter bare of cutlery or anything with a point. But that didn't dissuade Maddison. Sariel had something perfectly non-lethal in her hands.

He ripped the mug of water out of Sariel's hands, swinging it to strike the farmer holding him in the side of the head. The man stumbled to the side, completely tripping over the leg Maddison graciously stuck out for him. The swift act of aggression gripped the rest of the tavern, a few tables standing up to close in on the scene. Maddison checked around for the observers and the fighters, keeping the ones holding tools in the corner of his eye as he went for the miners who had wrapped their knuckles up. He was able to wrestle one of them to the ground before the rest of the crowd came, poising to strike his next target with the sturdy mug.

He opened his mouth to speak and try to offer an ultimatum when he felt something strike his head. The impact was dulled by the cold liquid that cascaded down his shoulders with a small shower of glass. The barmaid standing close to him gasped when she realized the strike hadn't knocked him out, holding up her tray as a small barrier of protection. "Thanks," Maddison growled, ripping the tray out of her hands and swinging it left to collide with the closest hostile face. As his tray met the charging miner, he felt an impact to his back that rattled his ribs. It wasn't the barmaid this time, it was a farmer who had taken advantage of the distraction to plant a powerful kick in his back. He fought to keep his balance, stumbling right into a fresh fist to the face that sent him to the ground.

Sariel had gotten a sense of the situation pretty quickly when Maddison hit the ground, much to her audience's confusion. She started by grabbing an empty stool, swinging it down on the man pinning Maddison to the ground.

The boisterous hostility died a little as the crowd beheld the broken stool in Sariel's hands. A few observers exchanged their confusion as Sariel shoved the unconscious man off of Maddison and pulled the mercenary to his feet. Once she had him on her shoulder, she stood straight, pointing the broken stool leg she'd held onto around to keep the confused crowd at bay. She led Maddison out of the tavern, dropping him off on a chunk of hay sitting snug beside Horse.

With the short break, Maddison was able to recover from the five or six shots to the head, his ringing ears calming to Sariel's distant voice.

"Now I swear on me last set of socks, if one of you lot go and give my friend here some sour service like that again I'll do a lot more than bite you." Sariel belted, keeping a wall of hulking men at bay at the door. "I don't much like fighting like the other girls in my town, but that don't mean I don't bite my nails sharp as a last resort! Now who's gonna come out here and apologize first?"

"Apologize?" Gregorich's voice rose through from the back of the bar, the man parting the wall to present himself to Sariel with a stern glare. "Come inside, you're obviously confused. We'll keep you safe from that scum using you."

Maddison caught Gregorich's dirty look, shaking his head as he went back to brushing the broken glass out of his hair.

"Usin' me? For what?" Sariel said, cocking her head as she folded her arms. "Seems like you lost half yer brain and sat on what's left. I been tellin you lot Maddison here's a good fellow, you don't go bashin good fellows on the head with bottles."

"Good fellows don't go around selling a young lady's 'services'." Gregorich retorted.

"Well, he hasn't done that either. Haven't passed any soldiers that want them boots shined. I give em a good spit too, makes em all sparkly."

Gregorich relaxed, his eyebrows raising as the miners surrounding him muttered in confusion. "Boots... shined?"

"Right you are sir."

"Boots?"

Sariel nodded, earning a deep sigh from Gregorich. Maddison let out his frustrations by resting his forehead in his palm, shooing Horse away when he tried to lick the wine off his shoulder pads. He heard some steps crunching towards him, lifting his head as Gregorich joined his side on the haystack. The man dropped a clean rag on Maddison's knee, keeping his chin high as his mouth creased with a frown. "If you don't make a fuss about this, I'll make sure nobody mentions all the noses you broke."

Maddison dropped the mug he had swiped in Gregorich's lap, the bartender grimacing at the flecks of red sitting on almost every edge of the cup. "Nice mugs, good quality," Maddison muttered, rubbing the rag through his wine-soaked hair before dropping it on the ground, and pulling Horse's reigns to depart.

"That was mighty rude of em to attack you like that," Sariel said, her voice muffled by chewing as she nibbled on a hunk of bread she had probably stolen on her way out of the tavern. "Don't think I want a job there."

"And I'm positive you wouldn't get one even if you wanted to," Maddison growled, flicking a shard of glass off his shoulder. He eyed the shops around them, hoping he'd catch a glimpse of an elder at the stands. Someone who could use a young person with too much energy and enthusiasm.

"Yer surprisingly sturdy, why I barely helped ya with that stool!" She cheered, shoving the rest of the bread in her mouth with a satisfied mmm.

Maddison kept his scowl, most of the townsfolk could pick up that he was a mercenary simply by his armour, and with Sariel's disheveled appearance, it was understandable that they were assuming he'd done that to her. He took in his spectators, walking Sariel behind a small cluster of trees. "Okay, this is how it's going to be."

Sariel watched him unclip his cloak, stepping back a little as he thrusted it out to her. "Now hold it right there Mr. Mercenary." She gave the cloak a stern glare. "You didn't pay me or nothin to wash that."

"I don't want you to wash it, just put it on so you don't look like a slave."

She grabbed the cloak and sniffed it, scrunching up her nose with a gag. "You could slay a bloodhound with this. What's so bad about looking like a slave?"

"Because people think you're my slave!"

"Ooooh..." She gave the cloak a hard stare. "Say Mr. Mercenary, how much do slaves get paid?"

"Zip." Maddison watched Sariel pull the cloak over her shoulders, its tattered tail dragging across the ground as its massive size completely covered her. Instead of a slave, she now looked more like a poor cultist. "Small question, what do you think my last name is?"

Sariel perked up, watching him proudly. "Course I know the name of my saviour to heart. The Mercenary, last name ya got. Maddison Sungard The Mercenary!"

"That's not my last name!" Maddison burst, looking around to make sure his yelling hadn't attracted attention. He dropped his voice to shaking calmness as he gently grabbed her shoulder. "It's Maddison Sungard, being a mercenary is my job. It's not a name, okay? Last names usually don't change like that."

Sariel slowly nodded. "Oh... So does that mean my job is The Black Wit-"

Maddison quickly covered her mouth. "You're not a witch. You're a normal person with terrible luck, alright?" He nodded, waiting for Sariel to nod along with him. "You're not a witch."

"I'm not a witch." Sariel nodded. "Alright, thanks a ton fer clearing that up Mr. Mer-er uh... Mr. Sungard."

"Good. I'm going to turn in my rental, maybe the stable master is hiring." He moved to leave the cover of the trees, cocking his head over his shoulder to give Sariel a stern glare. "Remember. Don't tell them about your 'services', don't even mention your 'services'. Tell them you tripped and fell down a small cliff if they ask about the bandages, and you're NOT a witch."

"Got it." Sariel gave him a thumbs up, following him back onto the street and walking up to Horse to scratch his forehead.

Maddison briskly led them through the streets, holding the mount's reigns as he constantly checked the street signs for directions. They were almost through the entire town when his gaze rested upon a small stable nestled by the outskirts of the town hall. He knew the tender there had quite a few years on him, and he hadn't seen a stable hand. Before he could move towards it, however, two sharply dressed soldiers came out of an alley, walking side by side and chatting as they probed the town with hungry eyes. They weren't the town guard. Not the usual ones at least. Decked out in chain mail, and boasting the gaudy golden sigil of the Heroguard, these were the last guards Maddison wanted to run into. And the fact that they had been posted here meant something had happened to spur the orders from their central command.

Something like a witch killing a noble family's Hero.

Maddison seized up, dipping his head as they approached so he wouldn't draw any attention. But Sariel wasn't catching the signals of a sour situation, waving at the two with a cheery smile. "Afternoon, you two almost look like heroes!"

They stopped, their glares relaxing to warm smiles as they looked over the group. "Hello miss, seen anything odd around here?"

She looked around the town. "Haven't been here much to be honest, but there's a bartender back that way with a temper worse than a skarkmouth in burnin daylight. Why do you ask?"

"One of the king's generals called an inspection. We're lookin for a witch."

Maddison held back a string of curses as the two guards eyed Sariel curiously. One wrong move and they could detain her for a reason as stupid as blinking too much.

"Oh my, good luck with that you two." Sariel chuckled warmly, forcing both of the soldiers into a handshake. "I'm not a witch. Didn't see any bonafide witches back the way we came either."

"We did see some smoke though." Maddison interrupted. "Sizeable stream, we decided to stay clear of it. It's south from here, close to a waterfall."

One of the soldiers scribbled into a small book. "Huh, thanks." He looked at Sariel, then at the fresh scratches and bruises covering Maddison. It was easy to tell the injuries had been sustained at different times, and the pungent smell of wine gave away the reason for Maddison's condition. The soldier paid Sariel a smile, motioning to a softer bruise near her collarbone. "What happened to you miss?"

"Fell offa cliff, good thing there was water for Mr. Sungard to pull me out."

"With a rope," Maddison added, pointing at the coil wrapped to Horse's harness.

Every second of silence counted as an eternity. Maddison discreetly rested his hand on a sword concealed in his belt, holding his breath as the soldiers scanned his weapons, their gazes falling on Sariel as the gears worked in their heads. He didn't see any sigils on their armour, or a tome that could imply a magical affinity. He could take them both on if he had to, but Heroguard squadrons always had at least six members. There would be at least four others running over to assist, and the squadron commander would have a grasp of basic magic, or a Follower with an affinity.

A split second before Maddison was about to draw his blade, one of the soldiers nodded. "Thanks for your help guys, have a good day."

Maddison relaxed as they continued their walk, catching fragments of their conversation that died with distance. "Probably hunters."- "Sweet girl, that big one was pretty shifty."

Sariel chuckled, looking at Maddison with a mischievous smirk as she dropped her voice to a whisper. "Good thing they were idiots, huh?"

He nodded, grabbing her and hoisting her onto Horse. The Heroguard wasn't going to stop their investigation until they found a witch to blame. And as an outsider, Sariel would be at the top of the list. She couldn't be left somewhere the Heroguard had their thumb in the pie, that was practically a death sentence. "I know another town that might have a job opening."

"What about this one?"

"All out I'm afraid," Maddison replied, unlatching his rolled-up map to hand off to Sariel. "So you can make your way back if you need to."

Sariel held the map, hardly able to control her excitement at the gift. "I suppose I wouldn't mind seein' another town."

Maddison nodded, not even looking over his shoulder as he jumped on Horse and broke the mount into a swift gallop to escape the clutches of the town.