Thread: The Urchin and the Prince [Ava & Eyesoffire]

The white walls of the palace gleamed in the moonlight, elegant conical towers stretching high into the sky, looming over the city as giant icy watchmen. High walls ring the vast collection of buildings that constituted the royal familys residence, housing along with them a small army of servants. Perched upon the top of a sprawling hillside, the palace had become the centrepiece of the great capitol. Walled gardens and luxurious estates were built into the slopes, sparse at first before growing more numerous in number, clustering together to form the upper district of the city. Here the wealthy wined and dined, an expansive town square ever bustling with markets and street entertainers. The wide main road was lined with a multitude of shops a jeweller, a clothier with a tailor next door, an establishment selling sweet smelling soups and candles, a baker and so forth. You name it the rich had access to it. Their homes were warm and well furnished their bellies full and every appetite sated. A cathedral dominated a good portion of the district, accompanied by an expansive graveyard and family crypts for the noble lines which had held positions of high status within the Kingdom for centuries. The bells toll regularly to signal the hours of the day, to celebrate the nuptials of the wealthy or commemorate the passing of an influential Lord. Between this district and its lower, and poorer, counterpart a wall has been built, separating the classes from each other. While poverty is rampant within this layer of the city, it is also the center of production where blacksmiths, butchers, carpenters and sculptors hold establishments within the lower market square. Those with a trade are spared the horrors of the capitols slums, townhouses and Inns encircling the center of commerce before the buildings grow smaller and less well kept. Finally these give way to the ramshackle shacks and lean-tos, populated by the poorest and vilest citizens the kingdom has to offer. As the years have progressed so too has the boundaries of the slums expanded, with more and more buildings falling into ill-repair. Here the city guards are rarely seen, thieves and charlatans given free rein to terrorise those already desolate and disillusioned. Winter had established a hold upon the Kingdom, sinking its cruel talons into the capital and blanketing all in a layer of frost. The streets of the upper and lower district were near enough deserted, nobles shut away behind elaborate doors, languishing in their cushioned chairs before roaring fires, while tradesmen worked to replenish their stocks and shut up their shops. Patrolling guards huddle beneath their armour as they walked the wide, freshly swept cobbles, their breath floating away from them in clouds. The narrow, blackened streets of the slums were far more occupied. Small groups huddled around rusting braziers, tugging at the layers of thread-bare cloth draped around their malnourished bodies. A candle flickers dimly within a red stained glass lantern, one of the panels cracked and broken, swaying lazily in the breeze as it lit the entrance to one of a number of seedy establishments in that particular area of town. Boisterous laughter spilled out into the street, a drunken dirge echoing up into the night air, as the door was thrown open violently, permitting three men out into the frigid cold. The first drew a heavily patched cloak tighter about his shoulders, gesturing for his two companions to follow as he stepped into the mouth of a dimly lit alleyway. You were not followed? The question was directed to a slender figure clad entirely in dark fabric that swirled about him, his face concealed beneath the shadow of a heavy hood. A laugh followed, cold and hollow as the mouth of the cowl turned toward the one who had spoken - a broad-shouldered male, the lower half of his face covered in a good few days worth of stubble. Your concern for my safety is touching, but I can assure you I was not followed. His diction was unusual for this part of the town, yet neither of his companions seemed at all concerned nor surprised. Regardless, all has been prepared. I simply require the package I trust you have, Rymos. All eyes shifted to the third man who, as of yet, had not spoken and instead chose to watch the dimly lit street. With a grunt, the man named Rymos a bald and tanned male - fished a filthy handkerchief from his pocket, brushing back the material to reveal a vial nestled within. The hooded noble snatched it up, stowing it away beneath his cloak. I will play my part, the King will be face down within his dinner by the end of the festivities the morrow. Then it will be up to-... A side door flew open with a bang, spilling light into alleyway and dispelling the shadows abruptly. Within the doorway stood a young man, an apron tied about his waist and a plate of half clean chicken bones clutched in one hand. Turning, the three men stared down the thin passage way to find that their conversation had been witnessed by another. In the circle of light cast by the open door a figure knelt huddled by a nearby crate, eyes wide and face smeared with dirt. With a snarl, the noble man pushed his way past his two companions, disappearing from sight with a muttered order. Deal with this. In response, the other two stepped forward to bar any exit from the alleyway, a smirk creeping across Rymos lips as his dark eyes settled upon the scrawny little urchin, recognition flickering across his face. Well, well, well...Hello Ells.. The serving boy spared a glance between the two men and the girl before backing up and drawing the door closed once more, plunging the alley into darkness once more. There was a moment of stillness, the urchins barely visible eyes fixed upon the two men who simply stared back. All three moved at once, both men charging forward with fingers outstretch to snag the girl while the urchin darted left then right, throwing herself to the ground and scrambling between the legs of the broad-shouldered stranger. A foot struck out at her leg, knocking her to the floor with a groan and a cry, grubby fingers clawing at the cobbles as she scrambled away. Somehow she found her feet, plunging into the night with the sound of heavy footsteps echoing off the walls behind her and her own ragged breathing echoing in her ears.