Shadows Bane: Foundation
Part Three
Natasha could hear the comments from the armed thugs that surrounded her brother. Said the balding man with a large gut barely covered by an arming jacket. “Are you some sort of Rock creature? You know your kind are allowed here. I think we might need to escort you back to your district to the other whores.” The rest of the group growled their agreements.
Another called out, his hair greased up to look stylish with a handlebar moustache to finish off his look. “Lookie at these dreads, by Mela they are green like a moss rock. Have you ever seen such rustic shit in your life, at you from the boonies?” As he reaches out to handle Slate’s hair.
From all the way over in the archway, Natasha watched as Slate shook. It was apparent that it wasn’t fear but fury. It wasn’t the first time he was accosted by humans, due to his unique look. With Slate topping over seven-foot and could easily lift a cow over his head, he has to learn not to knock the teeth out of stupid townies.
One thing Natasha dislike is the small-mindedness of her fellow humans, especially ones that treat other races with disdain. Seeing Slate’s shoulders bunch and knuckles whiten, Natasha knew it was time to act.
“What in Saint Jara of the Hammer, is going on here?” Natasha calls out.
Looking around, she noticed that the owner was not anywhere to be seen, more likely he is running to get the Watch. Having this many armed people in your place of business would be cause for alarm.
The one still holding Slate’s hair looks over at the solid armed woman that is Natasha. “And who in the Abyssus are you? And do you know this non-citizen scum?”
“Simple, this is my brother, and we are here for none-of-your-slip-sucker business! Slate come over here.” Natasha called out to her brother.
With a burst of movement, Slate moves like a reed in the wind, for someone as big and gaudy as he put most dancers to shame. As he slaps away the hand holding his hair, Slate flows through the crowd of six as he was akin to water flowing around rocks.
The six thugs barely even notice the movement, the only reaction was the man who was holding Slate’s hair as that small slap caused no small amount of pain to radiate up the thug’s arm.
Natasha whisper to Slate as he positions himself behind her, “I will handle this.”
Slate just nods, as this a regular accordance being non-human, especially in Favinonia City. He has his papers, but at least once per week, he is accosted by some small-minded thug or Watchman. It is better to not resist than to be in even more trouble.
“I was wondering why you are bullying a citizen of Favinonia?” Natasha asks.
The large balding man sorts at the question. “He is no citizen, he’s not even one of the demi-humans. Is he just a little savage you have to warm your bed? If you want a real man, you just have to ask.”
Being nearly a half a head taller than most of the so-called men in front of her, Natasha retorts. “If I was interested in men, you would be the very last on my list.”
“What you some sort of dyke? I would imagine being more looking like a man than a woman.” Said the one with the greased-up pencil moustache.
With a whip of her hand, Natasha grabs hold of her falcata, and with that, the six worms she is facing are just another annoyance.
With a loud crash, the doors to the inn are thrown open, and a booming voice comes from the opening. “Put up your arms, you are under arrest!” Reliquciing her blade’s grip, Natasha breath out. Good, the Watch will figure this out. “Capture that one.”
As Natasha turns around, she watches as eight Watchmen charge towards Slate, billy-clubs high. The last thing she sees before Slate raises his arms in the air and the first crack of a club was resignation in Slate’s eyes. Like this was just a Twosday.
