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Haze of the Future(Closed for Cherubian)

Dm

The guards are clad in thickened padded clothing, they're wearing small unobtrusive hats on their head for protection against the sun and each had wrap around sunglasses. Hanging from their belts are sheathed swords and short batons. At least two of the men pay close attention to you and Joe, keeping their crossbows poised and ready to fire. The third man approaches Joe first and begins patting him down.

"Ho there buddy! Getting a little more frisky I see. You know, I am a good friend of your bosses." Joe exclaimed with annoyance.

"We've been ordered to conduct a thorough search of everyone, no matter who they claim to be." The guard spat back.

"Okay, okay. Just don't expect me to invite you to my next birthday party." Joe jested. When the guard seemed satisfied with Joe he moved over to you. His touches were less than respectful as he inspected you. He shamelessly spends extra time groping your breasts, arse and groin before steeping back.

"One at a time, please state your business in Small Bridge. Well start with you ma'am." The guard asks.
 
What am I to do? Stirring up a big ruckus only to avoid this 'examination' doesn't seem like such a good idea, as that might very well leading to me having to fight the whole village. Or at least the syndicate thugs here. And while I am good, that might be cutting it close. So I just stand there, smiling wryly, and try not to flinch as the guards proves to be very thorough. I can't, however, hold back a comment "This is the highlight of your day, ain't it?"

Eventually it is over and his hands withdraw. Quiz time now.

"Oh me? I am just passing through, mostly. Unless I find a good job in your lovely village." Already I am awaiting the snide remarks and lewd suggestions as to what job might befit me.
 
Dm

The guard looks at you with a distastefully.

"We don't take kindly to outsiders ma'am. You better be good at what you do or else you'll be hearing from us." He commented. He gives you one last once over before shifting his attention to Joe.

"Oh me? I'm delivering very important cargo for one of the more prominent members of this here little community." Joe answered mockingly.

"Oh really? I think I'll be inspecting your cargo then." The guard replied skeptically. He moved along the side of the carriage brushing past you roughly. You could hear him struggling with the rear doors as he tried to open the back.

"Open this up!" He called out to Joe.

"You don't wanna do that my friend. My client wouldn't want his property damaged in anyway." He warned. The guard went around the other side to speak to Joe. You could hear the muffled sounds of their conversation.

"Hmph and just who is this cargo for?" He inquired angrily. Joe leans in close and whispers into the man's ear. Despite you superhuman hearing you can't quite make out what is said. You can see Joe reaching into his pocket to retrieve something to show the man. Upon seeing the object the guard seems to back off.

"Okay you're free to continue." He explains begrudgingly.

"Thank you kind sir. Always a pleasure." Joe responds with any enthusiasm. The guard steps to the side and Joe climbs back on his carriage. He looks over at you with a smile.

"Welcome to Small Bridge darlin." Joe says with a sharp undertone.

 
"What a lovely and most welcoming town..." Irony is dripping in thick, palpable droves off my voice as I step up to the vehicle and pull myself up to reclaim my seat right next to Joe. Already I half regret coming here, but I have to make a stop somewhere, and from what I heard Cartwright could easily be worse. "Best indication that the world has gone to hell: You can't even fart without some self styled bigwig crony telling you it's only because he allows you to" I mutter under my breath so even Joe might have trouble hearing it.

"Guess you won't tell me who is so important that even Mr. Smart and Mr. Friendly back down." I finally comment as the carriage once more picks up speed. My sour mood has crept into my face by now. "Since I am currently not in the mood to hand out anything sexy as compensation. Must be someone really big, though."
 
Dm

Joe chuckles at your frustration. He gives the reins a tug and the carriage moves forward once again. The guards eye the both of you as the carriage rolls forward but the look from the talkative one was like daggers through cheese.

"Right you are darlin. This world has become one big happy place, why only the other day someone threatened to have my colon removed with his bare hands. I simply commented on his poor hygiene and proceeded to teach him a lesson in manners." Joe jested.

At your next question, Joe looks at you with trepidation. He breathes in deeply before responding.

"Some information isn't worth knowing darlin. Let's just say my client isn't the kind of person you wanna take to a family barbeque, not that anybody has any of those anymore." He explains. Joe directs the carriage toward the center of town, the hustle and bustle of the town surrounds you as ordinary citizens go about their business. A great variety of shops with their wares on display line the main square and the smell of freshly cooked food allure your senses.

Joe brings the caravan to a stop. He points toward one of the building several blocks down.

"That there is the bar my friend owns, feel free to look around town though. When you get bored head on down over there and ask for Sheila, she's my friend, tell her that you're a friend of Joe's. I'll meet up with you later on; I have to deliver my cargo first." He explains.
 
No information is better left obscure. That is a fallacy I greatly resent, however now is not the time to argue, especially with my severe lack of bargaining chips.

"All rigth, see you there later..."

Quickly I reach behind me, the hand slipping between my backpack and one of its shoulder straps, causing it to slide towards me already into a solid resting posiition over my shoulder the moment I raise my arm. My worldly belogings thusly secured I half turn and hop down onto the ground, two tiny dust clouds momentarily rising where my boots are buried in the trampled dirt.

Indeed the town, or at least the town square, is very much alive, so much so that one could almost forget the unfriendly welcome and the choking stranglehold the syndicate has on the population. The rather delicious smell of food further reminds me that I need something to eat soon. I still have some provisions left, but those are of the durable albeit bland sort. Not something to eat when fresher more delicious alternatives may be available. Assuming they are affordable.

So that is where I am heading first, the food stands that are freshly cooking. Ideally some freshly baked flatbread and fruit. Not only is that cheaper than meat, it also tastes better.
 
Dm

You spy a nearby stand selling all manner of baked bread. The shop attendant is calling out to passerbyers trying to sell their wares. He is a short stocky man with a large gut and an unassuming moustashe, his eyes are beady and skin very pale.

"Fresh bread, baked today. Very affordable. Don't trust me have a sample." The man yells. He notices your approach and directs his attention toward you.

"Would you like to try some dear. I guarantee you'll be satisfied." He baits you. The man reaches under the stand to pull out a small bread sample to offer you. From your current distance the piece seems unsullied and appears relatively appestising.

communion-bread.jpg
 
Well, fre samples do sound like a good and fair deal, so why not? Worst case, they don't taste that well, and I move on.

"Sure, why not?" I therefore reply trying to appear friendly while stopping to get a better look at the man. At least he himself does seem to enjoy his wares, and frequently. So i start moving again, now in the general direction of the stand, light strides bringing me quickly closer until I stand on the opposite side of the counter. My right hand extends, palm up, and I ask "Let's see what your bread tastes like."
 
Dm

The stumpy man smiles brighter as you approach. You find the need to push past random street goers as you move but nothing that requires any significant amount of force. The alluring smell of freshly baked bread lifts your senses higher the closer you get and the man simply stares and awaits your arrival.

"HO HO HO. The pretty girl wants a sample. I can assure you my dear, you will not taste anything finer anywhere else in these parts." He explains and places the small piece of bread in your palm. On your initial inspection you cannot detect anything suspicious or deadly in the sample he has given you. It is soft and warm indicating its freshness.
 
Weird how I always assume the worst. Even now, as my senses automatically scan the small crumb of bread for anything suspicious. A slight discoloring, a fragment or pigment that is not supposed to be there, a slightly wrong smell. It happens without my conscious doing, a by now trained and ingrained instinct in a predatory world. And I would not want it any other way, for being alive and breathing feels great.

Maybe that man really just tries to sell good fresh bread and wants to earn his living with it? Actually, seeing how we are on the market and customers dropping dead in droves is bad for business, that is a very likely scenario. So I lift the small piece to my lips and take a first bite.
 
Dm

The bread is exactly as he advertised; the small bit you take literally melts in your mouth and releases the right amount of flavour and texture anyone would desire in such a piece of food. Just as you suspect there is nothing foul about it in anyway

His eyes light up as you sample his offering.

"How does the lady find my wares?" He asks excitedly.

"Only three Kal's per loaf." He explains.
 
"Hmm, your bread tastes great" I sincerely admit "but a whole loaf is a bit much." After all, personal experience suggests that the taste can dwindle rapidly with time, once the pastry looses its freshness. And wolfing down a whole loaf for one meal?

Giving the shop keeper another kind smile I make a counter offer "How about one third of a loaf for one Kal?" Sounds only fair to me.
 
Dm

The baker looks at you apprehensively at first then reverts to his former expression. He reaches under his table and pulls out a cutting board and places one of the loaves on it. With a serrated cutting knife he expertly saws into the loaf and presents the bread to you for size inspection.

"Anything for a pretty girl like you. That will be one Kal." He states.

Before you can respond he interjects with a question.

"You look like a traveller. Am I right?" He asks.
 
Relieved that my request was so well received - who knows what strange customs they had in Small Bridge - I watch in silence as the baker, or at least bakery merchant, goes about portioning that loaf. By the time the knife digs into the fresh bread I slide my backpack off my soulder enough so that one hand can dig inside, find my purse after brief rummaging, and reappear with one Kal between thumb and index finger.

Hoisting the backpack back up I plant the payment onto the counter right before picking up my purchase with the same hand, and immediately taking another bite. Tastes well, and does wonders for my grumbling stomach.

"Not that hard to see, I guess" I reply, still chewing but also returning the man's polite smile. "But yes, i am new to this town. Any special reason you are asking?"
 
Dm

The baker accepts your payment with pride after handing you the piece of loaf. The coin is placed under the counter and he dusts of his hands before continuing.

"We have been getting many travelers of late. From what I understand they're all going to the same place. Apparently there is a land far in the north called 'Ambrosia'." He explains. The baker looks around at the passing crowd suspiciously before he leans in close, his voice lowers to a whisper.

"They say that the land is free of oppression, that no syndicate runs it." He then pulls back and straightens his posture.

"I think it's crazy to be travelling so far north but everyone of them is convinced that they need to be there. Since you don't have that same fanaticism in your eyes, I would hazard a guess that you are not one of them." He states.
 
"No, I'm not" I almost snort as I shake my head before taking another bite. "That story just sounds too good to be true. And even if it were, how long do you reckon it would take until some syndicate decided to move in?"

It is a tempting thought though, and in some way i can understand the masses that are drawn by the lure of a life in freedom. My scepticism, however, makes me know better than that. The longer you live the more of your illusions you lose.

On a pure hunch, though, I try to make it sound as casual and unimportant as I can when I ask him "You wouldn't have heard of Tarath, would you?"
 
Dm

The bakers eye's furrow slightly and he looks downward in thought. After a few seconds he answers

"Tarath? I'm afraid not, is that a person? a place? or an object?" He asks inquisitively. Before you can answer him a shout from the crowd catches your attention.

A large man wearing a ragged shirt pushes past several passerbyers as he yells in your direction. His sapphire eyes a wild with anger and his unshaven beard gives him a less than appealing outward appearance.

"Hey baker, you owe me a refund. I spend the last two days shitting out the crap you gave me!" He exclaimed angrily; the gruffness in his voice was deep and commanding. The baker seemed quite frightened by the man approaching but did not try to run.

"I can assure you Mr Cart, my products are only of the highest quality. Perhaps there was something else you ate on the same day." The Baker offered
 
Almost automatically me chewing slows down before it comes to a complete halt, and I eye the piece of bread in my hand a bit more sceptical than just a second ago. Now there could be many reasons why the digestion of that Mr. Cart went haywire, but that piece of bread just might be one of them. Maybe the baker knows this as well, and that is why he is frightened? Fortunately my intestines have proven quite robust in the past, but still.

What to do now? Maybe just watching the two duke it out will shed more light on the situation than any silly question of mine?
 
Your body doesn't feel any ill effects from the bread you have eaten

"Something else! Something else!" Mr Cart repeated. He leaned forward on the counter and started the baker in the face.

"You think I have time to eat anything else but your lousy stinking bread. Unlike you I don't have time to think about food. I'm taking this up with the syndicate." He growled, then turned towards you looking in your direction.

"Becareful with what this criminal sells you. It might be the last thing you eat" He warns angrily.
 
For a moment I am slightly surprised at being addressed directly by the irate man, but I quickly recover. He does not seem angry at me, at least, and so I lower the hand holding the bread as I try my best to politely and freindly smile back at him, my head tilteb back ever so slightly so I can look him straight into the eyes.

"Well, ...." I finally begin " ... in that case I am likely doomed, as i already have taen a few bites." For emphasis I show him the piece I am holding. " ... so I guess all i can do now is hope."
 
Dm

The man grunts in distaste and his face scrunches up in anger at the piece you show him.

"You better hope he didn't feed you the same shit he sold me." He commented and stormed back off pushing past the circle of onlookers that had formed to watched.

"I can assure you all, that my products are of the finest quality. You need not worry about anything." The baker announced to the crowd. The group showed mixed reactions but on the whole they seemed thoroughly unconvinced. After a few more shared looks the congregation dispersed and you are the only remaining customer.

"This will ruin me." exclaimed the baker. He placed his arms on the counter and his face into his palms. He looks back at you with a deep sadness in his eyes.

"Please, you have to believe me. I take the utmost care when preparing all my goods, I have a feeling that Mr Cart has something against me. Why only last week he tried to have me shut down because he believe my stall was intrusive on the whole market." he added.
 
At the mention on that last accusation I take the time to step back once and survey his stand a bit closer. If only to gauge whether there was any merit to the accusations of said Mr. Cart, not while also slowly commenting. "That Mr. Cart, he mentioned involving the syndicate? Does he have closer ties to that organisation? That might explain his motivation..."

Besides that I am not sure hom I can help the man. Or whether I would want to be involved in this affair.
 
Dm

"To be honest I'm not sure. All I know is that he's been hassling me since they raised the lease price of the market place." The baker answers. He begins to toy with one of his serving utensils seemingly in deep thought.

"I mean it's not like that would affect him in anyway. Mr Cart works in one of the underground mines. I just don't see how a simple baker could cause him so much grief." He adds as an afterthought. He then looks back up at you this time with a look of defeat.

"Well I suppose you are probably my last customer. After that spectacle I doubt anybody will want to buy my bread. Here have the rest of the loaf, consider it a consolidation price with having to put up with that brute." He offers and wraps up the remainder of the loaf before handing it to you.

 
"That's weird indeed..." I comment while I watch him wrapping the bread. "You are sure it has to do with the raising of the leasing rates? I mean, why would he be bothered by that? Unless you inadvertedly drove out one of his relatives or freinds who no longer could afford those rates?"

As I take the remainder of the loaf an idea strikes. Weighting the bread in my hand and absent mindedly looking at it while my thought circle I finally add. "But maybe your situation is not hopeless. Maybe all you need is ... a partner? One the people would not immediately associate with you, and from whom they'd continue to buy?" Flashing him my widest grin I add "And if it so happens to be a good looking partner, maybe they'd buy even more?"

It is not the pure goodness of my heart that prompts me to make this move. Right now my bargaining position is rather good, and if I play my cards right this partnership can prove a lot more profitable than working as a serving wench. Plus I'd have better working hours.
 
Dm

His eyes light up at your suggestion, then suddenly fall with realisation.

"Thank you so much for offering but even if you start up a shop of your own using me as a supplier, you would still need the approval of the syndicate, not something easy to get. Being an outsider will make it very difficult, still though it is something to consider." He explains. He starts to pack up some of his tools and bread.

"If you really are interested though, the syndicate headquarters are just down the road there." He directs you with a finger.
 
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