Three days ago, the trio had packed up and set out once more, walking all day through rolling grassy hills, snacking on wild berries until the plains gave way to a dense forest. Two days ago, The Prince bid his farewell and split from the party with Knax, leaving Dagger and Altan alone to conspire. First, Dagger suggested that Altan sell off his diamond encrusted onyx ring, the one his father gave him, that Altan immediately put a hard stop to that plan. They argued back on fourth and the day ended inconclusive. Yesterday, though Altan objected heavily (and loudly), Dagger eventually convinced him to participate in a humiliating ruse. Dressed in patchwork hide and filthy as is, Altan would play the role of a slave Dagger had come into Guthram to sell. When he'd first suggested the plan, Altan nearly knocked his teeth out, but now he supposed there really was no better alternative. After entry, Dagger would resort to pickpocketing and seeing if he could get in touch with some 'contacts' to secure a boat to cross the Kingsmeny Run. Altan learned it was one of the main trade routes in Arcrose, connecting to the ocean at either end and spanning over a days width of travel by boat.
          And now, they were strolling up to the front gates of the city. It was early morning, and the air was filled with noise and mist from the Kingsmeny Run, hugging the entire Sourthern edge of Guthram and cutting sharply through the forest. Even from a distance, Altan could see dozens upon dozens of seafaring vessels of various makes and sizes sailing the river. He squinted but could not, however, make out the distant shoreline through the mist. Dagger elbowed him as they approached the front barricade, and Altan shot him a dirty look but lowered his head, assuming a slouched posture. His one job was to stay silent and look obedient and broken- none of which Altan was accustomed to. Two stocky guards clad head to toe in the signature dark armour of the Black Guard stiffened as they approached, lowering their halberds to block the entrance.
       The one on the right spoke out, voice nasally and high despite his wide figure. "Halt, what business have ye?" Altan thought he sounded like a squeaky toy.
        Dagger smiled that disarmingly charismatic smile of his. "Hail. I have come from Lynndon further North looking to sell this slave at the next auction. I hear they are in the market in Guthram these days. Haven't had as much luck up there."
        The guard's head turned to scrutinize Altan, taking in his slouched demeanour, filthy skin, ragged clothes. "No bonds on this one?"
        "No, sir," Dagger shook his head, "Took the pleasure of breaking him myself, I did. He's quite obedient now. Right, vermin?"
         "Yes..."
         Dagger stared at him intensely.
         Altan grit his teeth, jaw clenched. "Master."
         The guard on the left stepped forward now, a gloved hand reached out to, unasked, grab Altan by the chin and lift his head forcefully to stare at him. Altan nearly took his head off. But, in a stunning moment of self-control, literally bit his tongue and cast his eyes downward.
         The guard laughed deeply, stepping back. "Aye, he's broken in alright. Fetch a good price, that one will."
        The nasally guard nodded. "Quite. One more question, have you seen his man?"
        From a small pouch on his side, the guard produced a small rolled up wanted poster. Unraveling it, it depicted The Prince, and Atlan fought every urge in his body to stare. Dagger, however, took it easily and said, "Not in my travels, no."
         The guard nodded, stowing it away. "Very well, you may enter." And with that they stood back in unison, raising their halberds. 
          "Thank you, gentlemen. Praise Centurion."
           "Praise Centurion."

*     *     *

"So... what's up with you and Griffin?"
        They were resting at the base of a tree, snacking on some fresh bread Dagger had snuck from a bakery cart. Despite the town being unequivocally under Centurions control, the population here still had lives to live and duties to attend to. There was an atmosphere of weariness and darkness that hung over the semi-bustling plaza, and Black Guard patrolled every alley, but what else do they do but carry on? Altan furrowed his brow at the question, tearing off another piece of bread, holding it at eye level. Could use some butter.
       "What do you mean?" He threw it in his mouth.
        "Well, you're always at each other's throat. Over the smallest things too! You could find a way to argue what the best position to sleep is, and get genuinely riled up about it. Actually," Dagger said, scratching his bread, "you did that the night before I came to you two. Almost came to blows, you did."
         Altan gave him a side eye, nose scrunching. "Gross, who watches other people sleep, you stalker? Creepy, dude..."
         "Well, yeah." Dagger laughed, stretching out comfortably. "It's kind of my job. But you're dodging my question."
          Altan bristled, not appreciating being put on the spot. "I don't know," He responded shortly.
         Atlan waited for a response, and when he got none he turned to see Dagger just staring at him, smiling thinly. Altan scoffed, turning half away, picking at his bread more fiercely.
         "He's just, annoying, okay?" Altan continued, flailing his arms to add absolutely necessary emphasis. "It's like, his one goal in life is to provoke me."
         "...Right."
         Altan ignored him. "I mean, he always makes a point of saying how he doesn't need me. Acts like I'm just a thorn in his side, even though he's the one dragging me on this stupid vengeance plot! If he is so sick of me, why not just help me like find fairy wings or whatever it is he needs to send me home? Like, why doesn't he just take you, and let me go on my merry way? You at least WANT to go with him, so I don't get why he's going though all this trouble to keep my ass alive, when I can't even use magic and barely know how to use a sword. What's in it for him? It doesn't make sense."
        "Well, to be fair, from what I understand you crushed his fairy wings, and they are difficult to come b-"
        "AND!" Altan interjected, whipping around in a motion that drew more than a couple pairs of eyes, "He's so cryptic, like, all the time. And low key insane. Always talking about how 'you can't trust anyone, including me', and 'connections make you weak', and 'Oh by the way I'm totally a Prince and have a massive bounty on my head but I'm not going to tell you that or anything else important even though you're risking your life for me'. I swear, there's something not right about him. And then he goes and kills like, fifty people like it's nothing. Who DOES that?"
        Dagger nodded slowly, and as Altan ranted, he unfastened a small pouch of coins from his belt, pressing them into Altans palms before he went further down the rabbit hole.
         "Now, I had planned to use the coin I already owned to help us get a head start on the errands, but..." Dagger placed a calloused hand on Altan's upper arm, pulling him up. "What I think you need, is a nice, relaxing evening to unwind and think. And I know just the place."
         "I'm fine."Altan protested as Dagger began to pull him along, "Seriously, Dagger, I'm not a snowflake, I can take it, I don't nee- where are we going?"
         "Somewhere that will help cure all the pent up stress in that noggin of yours." Dagger said, tapping his forehead with a wink.
         "Either I'm cursed, or being vague and unhelpful is genetic here." Altan commented snidely, but jogged along regardless.
          After several minutes Dagger lead them to the front of a large cobblestone building standing proud near the riverbank, it's walls covered in deep green ivy. Steam rose through several chimney's, and several bushes sporting red and pink flowers grew along the base. Oval windows sat low to the ground, accented with ivy covered trellises. A large wooden sign hung by the front door reading,
          "Welcome to Kingsmeny's Bed." Dagger introduced, bowing extravagantly. "Finest bathhouse this side of Arcrose."
          "Okay...?"
          Dagger smirked devilishly, stepping aside so Altan could, suspiciously, approach the front door. "Don't even worry about the plan for today, I'll take care of it, and we can wrap up any loose ends tomorrow. I work best alone as is, heh. But, come meet me at Karvosh's tavern in the evening. Squat wooden inn just a few buildings back with a bright blue door- can't miss it."
          Altan was only half listening as he pushed through the entrance. Warm, humid, steamy air instantly greeted him. He took in the sight before him, and with a breathy sigh, said, "You know, Dagger, maybe you're not so bad."
          Altan stepped inside the low-lit interior, and as he gazed upon the pools of hot water, platters of fruits and wines, and plethora of gorgeous, naked, 'masseuses' (one of which introduced herself as Maribelle and lead him inside with a giggle), he thought maybe this world isn't so bad after all.