Lowlife, Scoundrel, Bandit Queen

I eye Sylwia up as she slinks over to us. It's obvious that she hasn't suffered any wounds worth noting, as she never was on the receiving end of any serious attack that could have breached her defense. In that regard this fight probably was a little like our brief exchange of pointers in the city's dark back alleys not too long ago. Except, her arms are sporting some actual bruises this time around, where she blocked some of her opponents punches instead of deflecting them. I nod at the forming bruises.

"Want some quick healing for that, Sylph? It's not free though, you know?"

I'm still very much in my role. And besides healing those bruises is convenient but not necessary right now. It's more for the sake of vanity than anything else, so I have no qualms about asking for compensation. Besides my poor, poor anemic purse could really do with a coin or two more in it.

Matylda in the meantime heads over to the bookies to collect her winnings from the bet she placed for this fight. Sylwia's gaze follows her briefly before she turns my way. She digs a single penny out from a pocket and flips it to me.

"Go ahead. It looks worse than it actually is, but I still want to be in good shape for the next fight they have planned. Wouldn't want to have to tap out just because I wore my self out early on."

That makes perfect sense. And she confirms my own suspicions without directly saying so. The gang arranged this match up not just to really test her in a serious fight against a heavy bruiser, after they already saw her compete against an agile fighter the last time around. This was or is supposed to tire her out.

They'll probably keep throwing tough opponents her way. On one hand to build her legend. The more fights she wins the more people will bet unreasonable amounts of coin on her next victory. On the other hand each fight will take its toll out of her. So, she will keep winning one spectacular victory after the other, until all of a sudden she wont.

It's a clever way of stacking the odds without getting us in on it, so they won't have to pay us a share. In fact I'm pretty sure that they hope that Matylda will keep placing all the coin she makes here and then some on Sylph's winning streak, so they'll be able to empty our pockets as well as those of anyone else. And of course the angry men and women who will loose everything once that day comes will see us first and foremost as the ones responsible. So, they are already deflecting the blame too. Very clever. Very clever indeed.

That all isn't an issue today though. For now I can focus on healing Sylwia's bruises. I pull her away from the ring to make room for the next fighters and to make sure no one will easily be able to overhear my prayer. I wait until the female announcer is back in the ring to get the crowd fired up for the next fight too for that very reason. I make sure not to raise my voice too much either. I'm sure Fox will be able to hear me anyway. With a reassuring smile I place my hands on her bruised forearms, as I finally say my prayer.

"Fox, divine guardian of many masks. God of making mischief and Goddess of having fun. I beg of you, heal this one's bruises and ease her pain."

Sylwia's bruises fade almost immediately, more so than I expected, as a little of my accumulated Karma drains away. At the same time my [Prayer] skill improves a little. The real surprise though is the notification that follows right after.

[*Ding!* Your skill Healing Touch has leveled up to level 5!]

There is a whole slew of secondary effects too! First my spirit attribute improves a little, promptly followed by my magic power. And, as if that weren't enough already, my Mana pool grows the tiniest little bit too. I grin, well pleased, as I withdraw my hands again to put away the coin I'm still holding. Oh yes, this day is turning out to be a real good one.

"Feel free to ask for my help if, you know, you need to and have a coin to spare."

A moment later our dwarven companion rejoins us with nicely bulging bag of coin in hand. She even goes as far as to make them jingle. I'm sure Beldragor would really appreciate it. Yes a dragon would probably call it a beautiful sound. And, to be brutally honest, I'm not exactly put off by it either.

Thankfully I don't have to ask about the coin. Sure I haven't given her any to place a bet for me, but as is usual with our outfit, I expect to be compensated for my part in this little charade. Especially as I expect this to cause me no small amount of trouble before everything is said and done.

Matylda grabs a few pennies from the pouch she has brought and hands both me and Sylwia some, just as if some of her initial investment had come from us.

It's not much but I gladly take my five pennies, slipping them into my purse without delay. Every little bit helps. For now I'm just glad that I can actually feel the weight of my purse again, even if it's contents do in no way amount to a small fortune or anything even just close to that.

"So, Sylph is all patched up, does she, you know, have another fight coming up?"

The young dwarven woman nods.

"Yes. In fact I reinvested most of our winnings from last time and this fight into a bet on her next victory right away. In fact our gracious hosts where very insisted about that."

Oh, I bet they were.

Sylwia nods in the direction of the fight that is on now. The two youngsters going at it with more enthusiasm than technique or anything else. In fact our professional bruiser barely pays them any mind. That says just about everything about what she might think of them.

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"Who will I be facing next? One of the winners of these fights? Please tell me they arranged for something slightly more challenging."

I can't help but snort, as I watch the two youths currently in the ring for a moment. I doubt they would stand a chance. No, that really wouldn't be a fair fight. Not one with great odds either, if you plan to make some money anyway.

Matylda is quick to wave away Slywia's apparent worries, which of course are not something that actually worries her at all.

"Never mind those youngsters. They have set up a more challenging fight for you. At least that is what I have been told."

A wink, only visible to us, accompanies her words. Then she continues in her usual lighthearted manner.

"Say, want something to drink? We'll probably be here for a while. My treat!"

She even makes the coins in the pouch she is holding on to jingle again. And who am I to refuse an offer like that. Sylwia's thoughts seem to follow similar paths. In the end we answer almost simultaneously.

"Alright."

"Fine."

True to her word Matylda gets both of us a mug of beer in short order. The beer is a little disappointing. At least compared to what I'm used to so far. I don't complain though. Not right here and right now anyway. This isn't the time or place.

For a little while we just stand there, sip at our mugs and watch the other fighters perform. What we get to see isn't that impressive, but who am I to judge? Not everyone can be a professional pit fighter. Most of those poor fools are just desperate for some quick coin. Their hopes are usually quickly dashed. The few that remain though are not to be made light of.

Out of the corner of the eye I spot something that bothers me more than the watered down beer I'm drinking. In one of the far corners, away from the busy sides of the ring and the bookies other deals are happening. The gang is at least tolerating this little side hustle, if they aren't actually in on it.

Little bags of coin are exchanged for even smaller bags that contain all too familiar glittering dust. I have a hard time to keep from grinding my teeth. Thankfully I'm still holding on to my half empty mug. It helps hide my ire until I can calm myself again.

Sylwia is too focused eyeing up the other fighters, wondering which one she might have to face and Matylda is facing the other way. She doesn't see what is going on all the way across the room in that far corner. She doesn't miss the anger briefly clouding my face though. She raises an eyebrow In question.

Instead of answering I just shake my head briefly.

Thankfully I don't have to worry about her interrogating me, as one of the tattooed gang members approaches. If I had to guess I'd say he is still a rather junior one, as he isn't nearly as heavily tattooed as some of the others. He stops at our side and puts a hand on Matylda's shoulder.

"Your friend is up next again after this match. Her opponent is over there."

He actually points at curious duo that doesn't quite fit in here. Then he is off again without waiting for a response. Manners really aren't that one's strong point. Matylda is the first one to speak as soon as the thug has left us.

"Foreigners?"

She isn't wrong. Riverrun is a pretty diverse place. Sure, most of its inhabitants are human, but there are others as well. And of course you can spot little details all over the place that people from many places have converged here to build this town. It's pretty much what anyone ought to expect from any settlement in the frontier lands. There is something else to this though. All these foreign influences have had time to blend together and form a very distinct melange, the identity of the people of the frontier.

These two on the other hand stand out like sore thumbs. The style of their clothes, the very fabric even, actual silk if I'm not mistaken, long flowing black hair tied into tight braids and, of course, the very way they carry themselves. It's all very distinct.

I let out a low whistle, as I turn to address Sylwia who has been surprisingly quiet for a moment or two.

"This fight will be a tough one, you know?"

She raises an eyebrow in response.

"You don't say. So, which one will I be fighting? The middle aged lady? Or the overeager boy?"

I hand off my now empty mug to a passing serving girl before I answer.

"Right now? The boy. He looks eager for a fight. Entirely too eager. You might have to teach him an actual lesson. That's probably why his teacher dragged him here of all places."

Our front line fighter doesn't sound very enthusiastic as she replies.

"Ugh, do I have to? Can't she teach the brat herself?"

I roll my eyes.

"No, not really. She is the experienced teacher after all. The boy probably expects a beat down in a fight with her. It needs to be someone else who humbles him. Let's just hope he actually is ready to learn that particular lesson. Otherwise you'll probably be dealing with him again and again, you know."

"Oh, great. Just what I need. As if these monk types weren't enough trouble already in general."

All the while Matylda's gaze switches back and forth from Sylwia to me and back again as we keep chattering. She doesn't speak up though, thus I keep going.

"Do try to put him down without causing any permanent harm. I don't think you are ready to face his teacher yet should that happen anyway. And they aren't monks, you know. Pretty sure about that. The clothing, it's entirely too expensive. The boy is probably a son from a noble house, out traveling the world to master the martial arts, you know?"

Now both of my companions look at me. It's Matylda who speaks up this time around, as we begin moving towards the ring, as the last fight winds down, the loser unconscious on the ground.

"Why would a noble prodigy learn street brawling of all things?"

I shrug, but stay true to my role as I answer, while Sylwia slips into the ring.

"Once the horses are dead, the lances broken, shields and swords shattered, formations blown to the wind, that's what it boils down to on any serious battlefield, you know? The true martial art is about keeping going despite all the dirt, blood, pain and chaos."

Then there is no more time to do any talking, as Sylwia's opponent enters the ring as well and the announcer does her very best to get the crowd fired up again for the highlight of the night.

Surprisingly enough Matylda is off to place another bet as well. Very curious.

I on the other hand would like nothing more than to simply focus on the spectacle that is about to unfold. It's too bad that I have to pay attention to something else too. The illict dealings I beheld a little earlier. I try to be subtle about it, but I do my best to memorize the faces and general looks of the people involved in it. That's something that needs to be taken care of as well, no questions asked. There is at least one pleasant side to this. My covert observation earns me a little more progress for my [Stealth] and [Perception] skills.