Part 1

The gentle red giant sets, and from the window pours its mildly blinding rays, painting our room a crimson hue. Things become harder to see as they blur in the dim light.

Nina, still at my back, loosens her grip. She gently rubs against my shoulder and my back. And ticklishly, she whispers next to my left ear, “Sir… How about we wait for Ricardo?” as expected of Gordon’s daughter.

“Good idea. Thank you, Nina. Let’s write while waiting.”

While I take out the sheets of parchment, she lights up the oil lamp. We busy ourselves learning about the structure of feature articles. Boy, how I’d love to see in the future a newspaper containing business news, and other things.

So she writes, writes, and writes, and I check, check, and check, and hours, and hours have passed, but no sights of Ricardo. The older it gets, the more I think of the thief, and the problem, my anxiety comes back.

My hands sweat, I feel as if I’d like to jump outside to get our thief, but patience, wait, wait, wait.

Nina churns out another draft. “Hmm… you can make revisions here. The danglers, do I have to remind you?”

“AARRRRGGHHHH! Wizzy! I’m tired. I wanna look for the old man.” She stretches her arms up in the air. Maybe it’s about time we go look for the old goof. Who knows what happened to him.

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah!” With a brightened face, she springs off her seat, raising both hands high up in the air.

The streets of Mercantium we roam deep at night, looking for the old man. Noise, people chatter in the streets even at this hour. And the stores, restless – they are yet to close, lit by brightly colored lanterns. And people on foot, they light spots on the streets with their colorful lanterns like how cars would.

Nina dazzled, stops at one of the stalls. Her eyes glitter, mesmerized by the accessories the stall offers – earrings, bracelets, and other stuff, all made of seashells.

Playing with his mustache, the shopkeeper asks, “Hey there, playboy. Need some gifts for your girlfriend?”

“Mister! I’m not a BOY!” Smack, I palm my forehead. Not again.

“Oh, perfect. This pair of earrings will suit you. You’ll become more ladylike with this.” Paralyzed, Nina stares at the pair of seashell earrings. I gave her an elbow, reminding her of our mission.

I push Nina a bit to the side. “Mister, do you know where the smithy is?” I project a warm smile at the man.

“Kid, don’t tell me you’re a girl too? Uhmm… this pair looks good on you.” He shows off a pair of earrings while stroking his smooth mustache.

I shake my head, no. “The smithy, mister. Where?”

The man sighs. “Lost? Just go straight right. You’ll find the smithy sign.”

I bow to return the courtesy. And off we go running to the smithy’s.

The place, not the cleanest of them all – blackened stains run off the brick walls, and scattered on the floor, mud, dirt, and heaps of junk metal and ore. Anvils, check. Swords and other weapons, check. Blackened metal working tools, check. And a greasy crew of monkeys pounding hunks of metal, check. A smithy it is, alright.

CLANG! CLANG! Sparks fly left and right. A hairy guy busily pounds a red hot stick of metal, not minding the droplets of sweat running off his face blackened with soot. Distracted, he says, “This place is off-limits to children. Kids, bug off!” He gestures shoo and immediately goes back to work, hammering the stick. CLANG!

“Nope, just a moment please. Have you seen a guy with silvery hair and beard, standing about this tall, and looks a little aged. He always has this long spear of his.”

He pauses. “Oh, that guy. Your old man? I heard that guy is loaded. But he left ages ago. I got this guy Mark, he went with him to the Red District to have fun. F**k, the metal cools! Scram!”

Kicked out, we’re left with not enough information. We ask people on the streets left and right about the Red District.

“Oh, don’t tell mommy you went there. And don’t tell my wife, okay?” the man we ask blushes. He instructs us to head southwest of the town.

Mad, we blitz southwest and true enough, the Red District is red. I know exactly where we are, thanks to the 40 years of earthly experience I have.

We are welcomed by establishments well decorated with signs, advertising girls, glowing red with the help of paper lanterns hanging outside. And the streets, mostly they are occupied by middle aged men, some accompanied by women dressed in a seductive fashion.

Smack! I slapped my forehead. If this is a brothel area, Ricardo, Ricardo, where art thou?

A couple of girls, heavily dressed and wearing heavy make-up, takes interest in Nina. One of them tugs her hand, whispering in a bedroom voice, “Hey, cutie! You’ve got rough hands. You do carpentry? We love wood. Your wood, we work good with them wood. We do your wood good!” They smile, brightly – their teeth sparkle crimson.

Smack! My forehead burns. Really, really, these girls, I’m going crazy. Love my wood, do my wood? F**k**g hell! I’d love to head-butt a tree trunk, over and over, and over again, until I lose myself in the dark woods. I wonder if they do metal? I’ve got a huge pole with terrifying spikes. That’ll impress them.

“Crazy girls. What wood? I don’t need help. I do carpentry myself.” Chest out, Nina brags, showing off her impoverished flat. No! What a dummy! I’d like to bury my head in the sand and forget everything.

The women look sick, sniggering. “Teehee! You’ll do kitchen work better, babe!”

“HAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHA!” Unable to retain it, I roll on the pavement.

“Ughh… Dirty minded kid. You’ll never get a good wife. Come, sister. Let’s not waste our time on these weird folks.” The women turn around and walk away.

Meanwhile on a brothel across the street, a commotion stirs. “GET OFF MY PROPERTY, YOU OL’SCUM!”

A man, butt naked, flies off from the entrance. Drop! He lands on the street, plowing the mud with his face. Kneeling, he turns around, and weakly, he reaches for the door. “Elsa! Lisa! My girls!”

“I said, OFF! Get LOST!” From the brothel, a short stout man comes out. He boots the butt-naked fellow in the face, knocking him a few steps away. And off, he calls two burly men to drag the butt-naked fellow even farther. Wait, that’s…

“AAAHHHH! STOP, STOP!” Nina charges and pushes the burly men away.

“Your father, brat? Mkay, take care.” One of the men pats her in the shoulder. They left Ricardo in her hands.

She strips a layer of her upper garment and throws it at the old man’s face, blushing red and mumbling, “cover up… we’re worried sick about you… why on earth were you here?”

Reeking of alcohol, the old drunk, Ricardo, covers himself with the fabric. He grovels on the street. “Sorry, my luck is too good, I didn’t expect they’d cheat me. I didn’t make in time. Lend me a hand, will you.” He reaches for the lass.

“OUUUCHH!” Nina boots the man in the head, shoving the man’s face in the mud.

“OLD DOG, CHEAT? WHAT EXACTLY?” Nina twists her boot left and right on the man’s brushy silvery hair, shoving the old man’s face deeper in dirt. Her face dims and her eyes glow brightly. Clenching her fist, she emits a ghostly blood-red steam that rises up to the sky like smoke. My imagination, I’m seeing things unusual.

“OUCH! QUIT IT, BRAT!” Ricardo pushes the boot away. “Well…”

“Well?” The ghostly steam flutters turbulently. Nina’s eye glow brighter and her face darkens even more.

“Arrmm… None of your business. I gambled my money and lost. End of the story.” On his knees and about to stand, he receives a hard boot in the shin. In shock, he springs up like a rocket, blowing the fabric away right in Nina’s face.

“EEEIIIIYAAAAAGGGGHHH!” Nina gives the man a boot in the groin and faints.

Knocked in the junk, Ricardo’s pupils shoot up to the sky like needles at twelve o’clock. To his back he falls curled up like a beetle, rocking back and forth, rolling left and right, covering the member, while grimacing and cursing all the gods, the angels, and the saints in the heavens.

“Nina! Nina!” I rush to her side. I shake her in the shoulders in a desperate attempt to wake her up. Dead, her soul comes out of her mouth – she’s totally out. Bubbly drool runs down her cheek.

“Ricardo. Hell, at least cover your junk.” Smack, my forehead stings.

“My clothes, they took it.” Again, he wraps the piece of fabric around his junk. Then, he explains everything – he lost all the money to women and gambling. He claims that he had good luck and a good streak, but the folks cheated him. Ask about the halberd, he says it was still worked on; he left it in the smithy’s. Good thing, he didn’t lose that. But man, options. We’re running thin.

Shame, I walk the streets with a butt-naked drunkard, carrying by the shoulder an unconscious woman. People left and right all stare judgingly at the spectacle, chattering, probably talking about us. Shame, shame, shame! I’ll never forget.

At the inn, I throw the lass in bed. I blank out.

Part 2

“EEEIIIYYAAAAGGGHHHH! EEEIIIIYYAAAGGHHH!” I spring up from my slumber to a screaming Nina.

Petrified, she stares at the naked Ricardo. Drop! The lass faints back to her bed, broken – her innocence forever lost.

“Cover yourself, and be decent for a change. You’re acting like an old senile dog!” Ricardo wraps himself in his blanket, looking like one of those Roman philosophers, exterior appearance wise. Now, that looks better.

Breakfast, we plan our trip to look for our thief. We figure it’s better to go back to the market – people there are easy to talk with. And with haste, we take our leave to accomplish the task in due time.

In the market, we ask the kind storekeepers about our thief.

“A dirty looking kid? Thief? Hah! That’s one of Crimson’s minions, I reckon.” A store clerk says, stroking his chin.

“Who’s Crimson?” Nina asks the man.

“Oh, you better not mess with him, boy. He’s the underground boss of this town. That’s all I know.”

“Where can we find the kid.” I ask the man.

His eyes widen, shocked. “You’re not planning to go there, do you? I mean, Exteris, southwest. It’s really dangerous to go there, kid. I’d just let them go if I were you.”

“No, sir. No plan of messing with this underground boss. Just the kid. We need our money.”

Knowing the danger, we head off to the smithy’s to get Ricardo’s halberd. As usual, the atmosphere isn’t very welcoming. As soon as Ricardo claims his trusty halberd, we dash southwest to Exteris.

The neighborhood is far different from the rest of the town. It is littered with shanties built with light materials – tattered fabric, rotting wood, straw, and mud. And its streets are occupied by bystanders, wearing rugs and tattered clothes, noisily talking about trivial nonsense.

Rowdy, kids play in these parts too. Muddied, they care not about the dirt. They run and run, and run around caring about nothing. One of them, a boy, looks at our direction. His face pales and his eyes widen – he trembles – as if he has seen a ghost. He runs away the opposite direction.

“Ralph! Wait!” His playmates call him. Ralph, he must be our thief?

Kicking the dirt, I sprint to pursue our little thief.

BANG! I strike the ground mad with my massive spiked club of death, stopping the boy in his tracks.

“Huff, huff… CATCH!” The boy tosses a pebble in my face.

In midair, I seize the projectile, pinching it between my thumb and index finger. CRUSH! I pulverized the thing with my bare fingers. And up my shoulder I raise my killer bat, which glimmers bright in the morning sunlight.

“HEEIII!” The boy grasps a breath and falls to his rear, unable to move. He sweats profusely. Slowly backing away, his back bumps against Ricardo’s boots – his sharpened halberd, too, gleams brightly as well as his sparkly white teeth.

“WAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” Cornered like a rat, the boy cries non-stop. Hugging Ricardo’s boots.

Crackle! Nina pops her fingers. Her eyes glow brightly and her face darkens. Bloodlust, she emits a terrifying red blood aura that flutters violently to the turbulent winds. Birds, mice, and other smaller vermin panic in her presence.

Crackle! “Kid… You know stealing is bad. WHERE’S OUR CASH!” She grabs the snotty faced kid by the hair.

“HicK! I don’t know! HicK! WAAAAAA!” Drool, snot, and tears run down the poor kid’s face.

BANG! I pound the ground with my weapon, stirring an awful amount of dust and dirt. “If you want to go. You better speak up.”

“WAAAHHH! HicK! CRIMSON HAS IT. HicK! WAAAHHH!” He cries a river. It seems we need to spend more time to get to the root of this mess.

Part 3

With the kid’s arms tied to the back, he leads us to his home.

On the streets, the awful bystanders of this rotten neighborhood laugh at the poor kid’s predicament. Not a single one of them are willing to lift even a single finger to help their neighbor. Guiltily, I’m glad to take advantage of the situation.

“WAAAHHHHH! PAAAPAAA!” The boy yells to the man standing outside a rundown shack.

Bling! Our shiny weapons reflects the bright sunlight to his face, yelling taunts and insults.

Immediately the man runs inside the shack and comes back out, shakily drawing at us intruders a kinked and rusty blade that is heavily chipped along the edge. “Devils! Let go of my son!”

I let Nina do the talking. “You, you’re the devil, teaching your son to steal things! GIVE US THE CASH!” Nina shoots a bolt, missing the man’s foot by an inch.

“What are you talking about? My son is a good kid. LET GO!” The man yells back. Sweat runs down his temple.

Playing dumb, I don’t know. I don’t know who to believe. The kid says he gave it to Crimson, and his old man says he had nothing to do with it. Seems consistent, but we have to get it straight.

BANG! I strike the ground hard, forming a small crater. “Man, I want an earnest discussion. Admit and return the cash! That’s $300, not a small amount by any means.”

Drop! He throws the rusty blade and points at his shack. “No way we are keeping that much money. You may search this humble shack if you want.”

SHNG! SHNG! SHNG! Alert, Ricardo spins his massive halberd, protecting us against flying projectiles.

Thud! Thud! Thud! The deflected projectiles, daggers, bury themselves to the ground.

The man smiles; his teeth sparkles. “Coward! Come out, you!”

“WIMP!” From the shack, a shadow comes out of hiding, dashing, and knocking off our previous opponent, the concerned father.

“Artemis?” Lying on dirt, the man looks at the shadow – a mysterious mask wearing man, wrapped in a leathery and skinny fit clothing.

“Kids, lean on my back. More of them are coming.” Ricardo smiles; his teeth sparkles. What an odd time it is for him to act this way.

Goons, all in uniform, all wearing masks and the leathery skinny fit outfit emerge from the shadows, surrounding us.

“Big Sis Artemis! These guys are bad! They beat up Ralph!” Tied up, the kid spout lies to the odd character.

Nina loads her crossbow. “LIAR! You awful kid! We wouldn’t chase after you if you didn’t steal our cash! Where’s the $300?”

“Hmm… Not you too, Ralphie. My!” The odd character sighs. And addressing Nina, he speaks, “Too bad, you’re not getting it unless you beat us. Heeheeeheee~” He shrieks in laughter.

What hostility, blame us not for the trouble.

Shk! Shk! Shk! A hail of daggers come our way. Ricardo blows them away with his spinning halberd.

Thnk! Thnk! Thnk! Protected by Ricardo’s spinning halberd, Nina shoot the goons with her crossbow, and not wasting a bolt, she wounds the opponents with every shot.

Clink! Clink! Clink! I deflect the daggers with my club, blitzing towards the goons. BASH! I smashed the three, blowing them up in the air with a single swing.

Tsk! Tsk! Tsk! A barrage of thrusts Ricardo unleashes at the men, wounding and killing a number.

Motionless bodies quickly fill the streets, soaking the soil black. With the slaughter, rusty scent permeates the air.

“This is madness! HALT!” The goons stop to the command of the odd character. Still in an encirclement, they back away a step.

BLLAARRGGHHH! “ARRGGGHHHHHHH!” A massive wall of flame engulfs some of the men in the formation, scorching them, releasing a thick dark noxious cloud of smoke.

A skinny man in mask, hair shagged, and dressed in a skinny fit leathery red outfit, walks forward. “Nobody stops. Just go on, Artemis. Policy one and two.” With villainous eyes like those of a reptile, he stares the men stiff.

Artemis utters, “Policy one, no intruders. Intruders invade and bring harm to our paradise. Policy two, anyone who brings violence in our paradise shall die in scorching flames… But, boss!” Boss? The man must be… Crimson? The gangster underlord of this town?

The skinny odd man points his palm at the men – his gauntlet of silver, engraved with a dragon’s head, glows ethereal.

BLLLARRRGGGHHH! Out of the man’s palm, a massive wall of crimson flame rages, flying towards the poor men like napalm.

“ARRRGGHHH!” Artemis watches his men burn in agony.

The flames burning still, to the side the odd man swiftly casts his silvery fist – his eyes, like those of a vicious dragon’s, burn in vicious crimson flames. “Policy three, insubordination is punishable by death. No uhms, no buts. Seize them!”

Do or die, in all directions, all the men desperately jump after us, energized by their leader’s inspiring words. Tougher and faster they become.

Ricardo with his newly sharpened spear throws a barrage of thrusts; Nina cycles through firing and reloading of her crossbow; while I go on smashing and crushing the goons’ bones with my massive spiky club ’o death. These moves go on wash, rinse, and repeat. Still no match, pitiful, their numbers dwindle little by little.

Crimson’s gauntlet glow deadly. “Incompetent fools! Policy four, all those who live in the paradise must be ready to defend it at all costs. Don’t just stand there, get them!” He commands the bystanders to fight.

Scared even those innocents go after us. These people are not our enemies. Evil, just evil, this Crimson guy is an awful piece of shit.

I look at Ricardo, and he nods back. We dash forward, ignoring the bystanders and going after the real enemy, Crimson.

“FOOLS!” He shoots his napalm hand towards us, but too slow, we continue advancing forward to his side, avoiding the flames.

[MATERIALIZE!]

The flame from Crimson’s gauntlet retracts, turning into a fiery blade. He charges at Ricardo, swinging his wretched burning blade, clumsily.

BUZZ! It cuts air, making a weird noise.

Tchk! Tchk! Tchk! Faster than usual, Ricardo throws a barrage of thrusts forward, but Crimson avoids them.

To the flank, I charge at the villain, swinging my club mightily with intent to put an end to his crazies.

“Hmmp!” CLANG! He parries my attack like nothing. His flame sword changes shape, becoming larger and even more enraged.

Thnk! Thnk! Thnk! Nina fires her bolts but Crimson blocks them with ease, turning his flame sword into a shield. He cheats – his fiery shield devours the bolts.

Oddly, Ricardo smiles; his teeth sparkle brightly. He charges at Crimson, faster than his usual speed and more serious. He thrusts his spear mightily at the villain.

The villain steps to the side and advances towards Ricardo. BUZZ! He swings his flaming sword at the man’s neck.

But I’ve seen this before…

PLOCK! The butt of Ricardo’s halberd sweeps through the villains calf, falling the villain flat on his back.

“This is the end!” Ricardo stabs the villain with his spear.

CLANG! The spear tip falls to the ground, severed, missing the target by a wide, wide margin. The pole, made of wood, burns, tightly clutched in the villain’s silvery hand.

The villain springs up and jumps away.

“#(*&#%!^$(&@#” Swearing like a sailor, Ricardo throws the burning stick away at the villain.

DROP! It hits the fleeing villain in the leg, making him lose balance and fall.

Luck, Nina sends a rain of bolts at the bad guy.

Chnk! Chnk! Chnk! The bolts bury themselves in the villain’s shoulder.

“Imbeciles! We’ll meet again!” Crimson’s reaches the bolts in his shoulder and burns them. He envelops himself in a ghostly crimson glow.

BLLLAAARRRRGGHHH! He unleashes the cannon of flame aimlessly, hitting the shanties. And running, he sets a row of them in fire, laughing madly “MUWAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA!”

BOOM! The row of shanties in the neighborhood burst in flames, and the cowardly villain runs away under the cover of thick, black, and noxious clouds of smoke.

The fire spreads quickly, engulfing the neighborhood in flames. And joining the turbulent wind, their sparks of crimson and noxious smoke rise up to the sky. The fire grows massive as it madly rages, consuming its favorite fuel – the light materials the shanties are made of.

BOOM! Rows of shanties fall one after the other. In futility, the residents watch the flames devour their homes.

“HELP! HELP! Mommy! She’s still in the house. Help!” A girl covered in soot runs out of a burning house, sweating and crying buckets.

The bystanders, the people, the residents, all of them cast their pair of judging eyes toward us. Numerous, their eyes twinkle like the countless stars in a clear summer night’s sky.

“Bad people! Arsonists! If you didn’t come here, this wouldn’t have happened!” A woman casts a pebble towards us. Tock! It knocks against Nina’s crossbow.

“HEY! Knock it off! It’s not us, it’s that crazy guy CRIMSON!” Nina protests.

Tock! Tock! Tock! More people join the stoning, hailing a storm of rocks and stones toward us.

I whisper to Nina, “It’s no time to argue. Let’s go.” I pull her by the hand.

The three of us are kicked out the neighborhood of Exteris – people pursue us, left and right. Without looking back at them, away we run and run, and run, and run, hoping to lose them.

BOOM! Black clouds thunder and lightning flash on our way back. Big droplets of rain pour from the sky, stinging my eyes, nose, and mouth. It stings, but for our lives, run we must.

Enduring the torrential rain, we head for the inn, finally losing our pursuers. And soaked thoroughly, we make it to our destination, cold, hungry, and in low spirits.

******

Journey Day 4

Scientia’s fund stolen; Ricardo joins team, loses in gambling

The Young Master Linus had lost Scientia’s fund of $300 after he separated from the new recruit, Ricardo Gimenez, town of Mercantium.

He had only noticed the funds were missing after auditing our supplies, late afternoon. He suspected the thief is a young boy – the one who bumped against him along the way.

He planned to borrow funds from the newly admitted Scientian, Ricardo Gimenez, whom he recruited to the team for being a good fighter – the only merit the old drunk has in life.

Unfortunately, the old drunk lost all his money, too, through whores and gambling, proving his unreliability.

The young master decided to look for the thief the next morning to recover the missing funds.