Funnily enough, Scalvoris town was a whole lot nicer than it was in the stories Flint’s father used to tell him. Once a haven for pirates, Scalvoris was a hub of criminal activity and danger, with merchants reluctant to come close to the place. Now, thanks to the work of The Elements, Scalvoris was thriving. Flint could really see that now, as he walked the streets. Students of the new university rushed by, gathering material or heading to classes. There were plenty of stalls around, selling food, jewellery and various other wares. The scent of fresh bread wafted through the door of a bakery that the young man passed by. Despite the persistent chill in the air, Flint was really enjoying his time in Scalvoris so far. The people seemed reasonably friendly, and he’d yet to encounter anyone he’d wronged in the past. The idea of starting on a clean slate here seemed promising.
He knew the place wasn’t perfect, though. Word travelled around quickly and discreetly; whispers in taverns about heists and muggings in the more dangerous parts of town. He also doubted the pirate threat had been fully eliminated. As much as he admired the Elements, he knew that the old lifestyle of Scalvoris town couldn’t be totally stamped out so easily. Even in a town as pleasant as Scalvoris, there were criminals. At the time, Flint had no idea he’d be encountering one in a few moments.
He was headed back to the tavern. Having done a bit of hunting, the man had been able to sell on some pelts and meat for his daily meal and bed fee. He was no great hunter, he just had a little skill with the bow, and a lot of luck. Despite his victory being down to luck alone, the young man eagerly awaited his triumphant meal. Perhaps the greatest part about his trip to Scalvoris was providing for himself, and doing so in an honest, legal way. And so, Flint traced town the cobbled road, a skip in his step and a fire in his heart. This fire died down to a flicker of light, hwever, when he saw the thief.
A small figure, perhaps a foot shorter than himself. She held a serrated blade in hand, her free palm reaching towards the pocket of an oblivious old woman whose pace was aided by a walking stick. Civilians passed by, most not noticing, the rest not bothering to make a move. Without hesitation, the ex-bandit hollered. "Stop, Thief!".
The thief snapped her vision to him, her face contorted with anger. She took off as a few guards approached, the ‘land’ badges clear on their cuirasses. Elements. The two soldiers sprinted for him, passing him before gaining on the thief. For her part, the thief halted abruptly, leaping backwards and swiping her dagger around blindly. Blood sprayed as one of the guards was caught by the blade, and he fell to the ground. The thief ran, and the Element crouched, aiding his friend.
Flint was unarmed, but he wasn’t going to let this woman get away. Stealing from an old woman was one thing, but slicing up a guard for doing his job? That didn’t sit well with Flint. He bounded towards the guards, looking to the unwounded one. "Go! You have to catch that woman. I’ll see to your friend.". The guard looked reluctant to leave, but nodded, taking off in the thief’s direction, blade in hand.
Flint assessed the situation. The guard was bleeding from the side. Badly. Onlookers screamed, and Flint looked to the victim, with no idea what he should have done. Then, he decided to call someone more qualified. "I need a medic, quickly. Go!". One of the civilians took off in a hurry, and Flint removed his scarf, wrapping the golden cloth around the man’s wound, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Hang in there soldier, not long now.".
He knew the place wasn’t perfect, though. Word travelled around quickly and discreetly; whispers in taverns about heists and muggings in the more dangerous parts of town. He also doubted the pirate threat had been fully eliminated. As much as he admired the Elements, he knew that the old lifestyle of Scalvoris town couldn’t be totally stamped out so easily. Even in a town as pleasant as Scalvoris, there were criminals. At the time, Flint had no idea he’d be encountering one in a few moments.
He was headed back to the tavern. Having done a bit of hunting, the man had been able to sell on some pelts and meat for his daily meal and bed fee. He was no great hunter, he just had a little skill with the bow, and a lot of luck. Despite his victory being down to luck alone, the young man eagerly awaited his triumphant meal. Perhaps the greatest part about his trip to Scalvoris was providing for himself, and doing so in an honest, legal way. And so, Flint traced town the cobbled road, a skip in his step and a fire in his heart. This fire died down to a flicker of light, hwever, when he saw the thief.
A small figure, perhaps a foot shorter than himself. She held a serrated blade in hand, her free palm reaching towards the pocket of an oblivious old woman whose pace was aided by a walking stick. Civilians passed by, most not noticing, the rest not bothering to make a move. Without hesitation, the ex-bandit hollered. "Stop, Thief!".
The thief snapped her vision to him, her face contorted with anger. She took off as a few guards approached, the ‘land’ badges clear on their cuirasses. Elements. The two soldiers sprinted for him, passing him before gaining on the thief. For her part, the thief halted abruptly, leaping backwards and swiping her dagger around blindly. Blood sprayed as one of the guards was caught by the blade, and he fell to the ground. The thief ran, and the Element crouched, aiding his friend.
Flint was unarmed, but he wasn’t going to let this woman get away. Stealing from an old woman was one thing, but slicing up a guard for doing his job? That didn’t sit well with Flint. He bounded towards the guards, looking to the unwounded one. "Go! You have to catch that woman. I’ll see to your friend.". The guard looked reluctant to leave, but nodded, taking off in the thief’s direction, blade in hand.
Flint assessed the situation. The guard was bleeding from the side. Badly. Onlookers screamed, and Flint looked to the victim, with no idea what he should have done. Then, he decided to call someone more qualified. "I need a medic, quickly. Go!". One of the civilians took off in a hurry, and Flint removed his scarf, wrapping the golden cloth around the man’s wound, in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Hang in there soldier, not long now.".
