The rain washed away the blood but left Rhys drenched to the bone, and hungry. Should have left the clothes out here and gone back down…

Drying himself, Rhys then chose a set of fresh clothes from a neatly stacked pile in a corner of the floor and prepared himself, equipping his gear. Once ready, Rhys began the trek to the Upper City.

While guards were posted at the entrance, a mere gate around 30 feet across and 20 feet wide protected the nobility of Acedia from the average Joe. Ha.

Yet the natural layout of Acedia was such that the real physical divider between the classes was not man-made but rather natural. The tributary that split apart and surrounded the entirety of the Upper City was wide enough to merit being its own river. Two bridges connected each side of the Lower City to the Upper City, Rhys found himself at one of these bridges after a short walk.

Pausing to gather his wits Rhys inspected the vicinity for food-carts. The areas closest to the bridges were the most active. People bustled around attempting to sell their wares, nobility passing through the crowds in their carriages. The sounds were obtrusive but the smells were not. Rhys breathed deeply taking it all in, the breeze keeping him constantly engaged. Sighting a desirable cart, Rhys moved towards it, carrying himself with vigor. Boasting a wide array of fruits, the sweet acidic odor wafting through the air helped Rhys make his decision.

“What can I get for you young master?” the owner said eagerly.

It was rather amazing how far a clean set of clothes an umbrella and an assertive personality got you.

Rhys pursed his lips, “give me those two apples.” Waving his hand exaggeratively Rhys directed the man to the ones he wanted, nobles were picky like that, Rhys picked up two copper pieces from his pocket and laid it on the cart.

The man scampered over to wrap the apples in a piece of cloth, then handed them over to Rhys. His eyes saying one thing, his body another.

Now in possession of lunch at a third of the usual price Rhys whistled as he walked towards the bridge. The Upper City was closer to the ideal Capital City but not close enough. Most buildings had a fresh coat of paint, homes were lived in and the nobility indulged themselves. The general state of despair permeated through to the Upper City however. It did not take a keen observer to tell that the people were discontent, while civilians were bustling around, they did so with routine exertion. The kind cultivated over years of uninspiring work, lifeless – without motivation.

Even the nobles with all their comforts eventually got bored. After all, as far back as Rhys could remember there were no extraordinary events, no illustrious festivals, nothing to commemorate, not even Augustus deigning to make a speech mentioning the lack thereof, truly empty.

Rhys’ cheery expression coupled with his clothes got him past the guards easily, he simply had to state his intentions. Security was lax and considered clothing and confidence over identity.

Phew, step one done. Now gotta make my way to the castle.

Spending a large amount of time, with all the wrong intentions, in the Upper City, Rhys capably maneuvered himself towards his destination. Nodding at the occasional noble, waving at some others his presence went unsuspected, he was a natural.

The castle was a lie. At least it would be a lie to call it one. It was not what anyone would expect by any means. For a castle inspires images of ancient gray walls, tall towers, maybe even battlements. The royal castle of Soccordia was simply a wide estate split away from the rest of the Upper City. As if it magically landed out of nowhere, the castle took none of the features of the surrounding buildings.

The walls were high enough to stop a committed straggler, yet nowhere close enough to defend itself from a siege. The estate itself was like a city with in a city, several house-like structures came together to produce a piece of architecture that excelled in not height but width and length. The only building standing out, what looked to be the throne room.

Rhys fidgeted with a coin. Imagining himself in their made him anxious, the building had no discerning features, it would be as if he was in a maze.

Rhys saw all this from his vantage point close to the castle. Using his false authority and penchant for coming up with elaborate lies, Rhys conned his way up a nearby building. Sweating, Rhys paced the roof, the estate itself was a nightmare for thieves. The lack of regular structure meant that previous notions of guard positioning, room positioning and even the location of the treasury was void. Even with the freedom that Novus might provide him, the little buildings within the estate were identical – and a few hours were not enough to explore the entire area. Factor in a completely mystery security system and Rhys was left brows creased, lips pursed in frustration. Easy huh.

For now, taking a pencil out of his pocket as well as a piece of paper Rhys began to sketch a broad outline of the different areas, as well as the few pathways he could discern. Satisfied, Rhys snuck his way back to the entrance before he was called for his ‘appointment’.

Rhys began making his way out of the Upper City, there was little to be done here without more information. Rhys bit down on his apples savagely, the frustration leaking out of his façade drawing in unwanted stares. Unfazed, Rhys made his way out.

Just out the gates Rhys was caught unawares as someone walked into him. Surprised, but quickly regaining his composure Rhys turned towards the man,

“Pay attention, scum,” he retorted his fist clenched. The man scampered off with a hasty apology, Rhys not wanting to draw any attention decided to not be a drama-queen today.

As he walked back into the throes of the Lower City, his garb now completely alienating him from the average person, he was beginning to get a few surprised heads turned his way. Raising his pace Rhys made his way towards a nearby tavern, maybe the one decent place in the Lower City. It was then,

HOLY, “SHIT!” he exclaimed, the words traveling from mind to mouth as fast as humanely possible. Not at all conspicuously he began rummaging around his numerous pockets to make sure of his belongings.

Oh, sweet lord, I really am losing my touch. A quick search revealed that his belongings were intact, especially his coin purse. Rhys flushed when he realized that nearby people were staring at him in confusion. He glared back, as was expected of him.

Realizing his outfit was creating more problems than expected, Rhys doubled back to his home. Quickly changing into a less conspicuous outfit, leaving his valuables in their respective pockets in his rush. Putting on a cap Rhys ran back out and did his best to catch up on lost time.

Shade’s Tavern was disgusting. Disgustingly good at managing to be a decent, not company wise, place in this shit-hole of a town. Rhys walked in slamming the door open only to be crinkling his nose at whatever 4pm drunkards, puke and blood smelled like.

WOAH! Rhys ducked out of the doorway as a man was merciless thrown in his direction. The man, with nothing to shield him was sent a good five feet outside the tavern before crashing, out cold.

“Always lookin’ out for my door aren’t you, Rhys?” A jovial voice shouted over the remnants of the bar fight. The comment and Rhys’ timely entrance drew a round of cheers from the crowd.

Bowing Rhys found his way to the counter. Occasionally being pat on the back and dodging the high-spirited wandering souls that were these drunkards.

“Give me something good old man,” Rhys said to the man behind the counter.

“Yeah, water,” his straightforward response drew laughs from the crowd beside the counter.

Rhys’ faced flushed red, with an exasperated sigh he replied, “but… but... why?”

The old man, Shade, the very epitome of shadiness, responded with a twinkle in his eye, “’cos this stuff ain’t good for you. I wouldn’t be caught dead pouring you a drop of death.”

“Then, these guys?” Rhys got up on the counter and waved his hands around pointing to literally everyone in the bar.

“Don’t care about this lot, as long as they pay me,” Shade shrugged as he spoke.

“Come on Shade, make that boy a man,” a voice in the crowd called out.

All the onlookers paying attention laughed out loud at that, raucous comments always managed to elicit a laugh.

Shade humbly laughed along, his hands at work whipping up a sandwich. Delighted at the outcome he placed the sandwich with some apple cider in front of Rhys.

“Eat now, we’ll talk later yeh?”

The old man was the closest thing Rhys had to a friend, or family. He led a humble life as the tavernkeep, earning his due. Brawls were common but largely unlikely to do any real damage. Shade was a good man and good men were rare. Shade’s regulars were a mix of thieves, mercenaries and other unsavories who would break a couple of bones to keep this place upright.

While Rhys had enthusiastically eaten the apples to keep his hunger at bay it let loose at the sight of Shade’s wonder sandwiches. With freshly pressed apple cider to wash it all down Rhys momentarily forgot his predicament – the food clouding not just his stomach but also, his mind.

As the sun began its merciless retreat the tavern’s attendees rolled out accordingly. After all, a living had to be made. Rhys and Shade were left alone at the counter.

“So, what brings you back lad?” Shade sparked a conversation while nimbly cleaning his glassware.

Rhys looked down and away at that. The last time Rhys was here their conversation had not ended well. Shade felt the need to advice Rhys on his career options, Rhys being as pompous as he was had burst into a tirade on why Shade had better mind his own business. The conversation left Rhys devastated, and Shade equally so. Rhys had not come back since dreading this very confrontation.

“I ain’t gonna say anything ‘bout your job,” Shade suddenly said. “I realized I’ve been too presumptuous, can’t really judge you with me catering to all this lot here though.” Shade put down a glass and looked at Rhys.

“I know you aren’t the kind to scramble back in here apologizing. So, you probably need my help, don’t you?”

Rhys had eyes wide open and mouth slightly agape by the end of that. Expecting nothing less than Shade to rip him a new one, oh…, Rhys was unexpectedly unsure of what to say. His original plan was to convince Shade with his oh-so magical powers of speech to let him go ahead with his career path, before requesting something off him.

I guess I skip to part 2.

“I uh… have a request. Could you put me in touch with anyone who knows the ins and outs of the castle?”

Shade raised his eyebrows, his eyes narrowing.

“You could get yourself killed y’know?” Was his only response.

Rhys sighed in defeat, “I know, I know… This job though old man. I can’t say no.”

Pursing his lips, Shade scratched his beard trying to recall anyone he might know.

“This one guy, comes by every other day,” he finally said. “I’ll put in a good word for you. Come back here in two days, I’ll get you something to work off.”

Rhys elated at his prospects got up to hug the old man, though he was not tall enough, making the scene rather familial. Shade smiled as Rhys, a full head shorter wrapped his hand around him. “Now get outta here you rascal. Though… do come back,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Rhys smiled at him and got up to leave. It was late evening now but he decided to take a short break before gallivanting into the night. Going back home he decided to clean out the pockets of his earlier clothes before he misplaced something.

Paper, pen, coin purse, lock pick, lighter, paper…?

“Huh,” Rhys exclaimed.

Picking out the second piece of paper he opened it carefully to see what was written. It had a drawing on it, akin to the one Rhys had made earlier, except this was much more detailed. Glossing over it he noticed an X marked towards the top left end of the map. Confused, but not entirely unsure of what he held he turned the paper around. Etched in with fine penmanship were three words, Rhys read them out loud.

“Logistical support, bitch,” Rhys grinned to himself. This keeps getting better and better.