20 Vhalar 720
So he let the Rharnian's bond the sheath of his sword so that he could not draw it without breaking the seal, he waited for the Lightning Knights to properly log and prepare his paperwork, and then Balthazar set off to explore the Dust Quarter. He's been told at Storm's Edge that Rharne was divided into three sections- each divided by wealth. The Dust Quarter was the poorest, the Earth Quarter was well... in the middle, and the Glass Quarter was where the more affluent lived. He'd chosen to begin in the Dust Quarter because it made him think of Almund. Set just on the outskirts of Rharne proper, the Dust Quarter seemed to be fairing better than the volunteers at the fort had implied which delighted Balthazar. He didn't feel responsible to help here and it was freeing- like Yaralon. He could indulge a little.
Balthazar stood out among the residents of the Dust Quarter for various reasons. He suppressed his Rupturing spark to conceal some of his more obvious mutations but he still glowed slightly, had white hair, blackened fingertips, and his eyes were golden when they weren't glowing for one reason or another. He had several mutations that made his eyes glow different ways. He wore simple black clothing with various tears from battles over the years that had been poorly sewn shut. His skin healed itself but not his clothing and he had no skill with a needle. He got the cut close but it didn't look good. He wore a grave gold vambrace on each arm but no other armor. Each vambrace was flecked with red from the deaths of those around him in Quacia, but most interpreted it to mean something else. Nimue, who was manifest fully and walking beside him, was lucky that her clothing seemed to manifest at her discretion. Despite Balthazar's poorly mended clothing, the two of them were still dressed better than the majority of the people in the Dust Quarter who wore rags.
"I still don't like it." Nimue grumbled as they entered one of the nicer run-down taverns in the Dust Quarter. The Copper Something- Balthazar didn't read the name on the sign when they came in- they just went right for the bar.
"What don't you like about it?" Balthazar asked, "When we go back to Storm's Edge you can just hide in the Beneath like you did in Quacia. I'll handle the Flameborn."
"I was not hiding." Nimue grumbled back at Balthazar as they settled into two seats at the bar. Balthazar waved for the bartender but he was busy helping another customer. Even in the poorest parts of Rharne, the tavern was alive with activity. Drinks were cheap so the people could pay for them.
"Well I don't know what else you'd call it. A tactical retreat into ghost-land?" Balthazar said in a taunting tone, prompting Nimue to sock him on the arm as hard as her materialized fist could manage. Balthazar laughed to cover the pain and rubbed his arm where the ghost had hit him. "I'll give you that one for free." He decided. A trill later the bartender arrived and Balthazar ordered a beer- the menu was limited. A bit later he had two mugs of some amber liquid with no given name. Balthazar picked up his cup and took a slow sip to see what drinks were like in Rharne.
Good. They were good... enough.
It had a robust taste that was not altogether unpleasant but was also not quite... Balthazar's favorite. It left a strange flavor in Balthazar's mouth and Nimue watched with disappointment that Balthazar only noticed after the strange taste faded. Every so often she remembered what she was. She couldn't drink with him, she could only steal energy from him. She was not alive. Her very presence put a strain on her energy. All this effort to look human...but then Balthazar held out a hand to Nimue. "Help keep me sober?"
"It doesn't work that way." Nimue lamented as she gently moved Balthazar's hand onto the bar and placed her own hand on his shoulder. He'd look strange if he was holding his hand out.
"Ah well, we can try." He tried to encourage her and seemed to succeed a little. A smile slipped over Nimue's face before her image shuttered and slipped away. She began to syphon some of Balthazar's emotional energy and it was easier not to maintain such a solid form. Balthazar downed his cup and Nimue's in a bit and shuttered as the beer washed around his mouth and down his throat.
The bartender returned a few moments later to see if Balthazar wanted his mug refilled and when he didn't see Nimue (who's etoplasm had sped up to lower her visibility while she syphoned Balthazar) he gave the mage a sad smile. "Where'd your friend go?"
"I don't know, she doesn't tell me anything." Balthazar deflected the question and slid his mug to the bartender who grabbed a flagon.
"It won't cost you much more for all of it." The man suggested.
"You aren't wrong. I'll take it." Balthazar slipped the nels across the table and the bartender refilled Balthazar's mug before setting the flagon down next to it. Balthazar took another sip from his mug and noticed that the bartender hadn't moved on. He lowered his drink slowly, "Something I can help you with?"
"You a fighter?" The elder, rough looking bearded man said as he picked up a mug to clean while he talked.
"Maybe. Why?" Balthazar asked, unsure of why the bartender wanted to know what was going on.
"There's a tournament coming up in seven trial. You look like you could last a few rounds. There are going to be prizes."
"Oh yeah? For me or for you?"
"Well vegetables, fruits, grains, rations, and a title for you... and maybe I make a little bit from the bets people will place on you for me."
"I am good with my hands."
"You'll have to prove it."
"You want me to fight someone?" When Balthazar asked that, the man seemed surprised that Balthazar would suggest it. He shook his head and explained,
"Only people who can participate are the ones who bring me enough tokens."
"Tokens?"
"Every tavern has them, here," The man pulled out a small pouch from beneath his counter and produced a round piece of copper that was in the shape of a nel but had none of the same marking. The man set the token on the counter and slid it across the table to Balthazar who felt Nimue recoil a little bit from it. She really hated copper. "Every tavern in Rharne that is worth it's salt has a token to give out. Collect enough tokens and bring them back to me by the 27th and I'll get you a spot in the tournament."
"How many is enough?" Balthazar asked.
"It doesn't really matter, but you'll be judged based on how many you bring."
"By who?"
"Everyone."
"Can I keep this one?" Balthazar asked, still holding the copper token in his hand and examining the marking on it. He didn't have the means to fabricate more of them but the thought did cross his mind.
"Did you earn it?"
"What would I have to do to earn it?" Walsh considered Balthazar's question and looked around the tavern. It was busy and his workers were doing their best to keep up but an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt.
"Give me four breaks of labor and you can have the token."
"Three."
"Four, this isn't a negotiation."
"Then call it persuasion. Two hours. I could hit every bar in the Dust Quarter in under two hours but I'll give all of that time to you in exchange for the token."
"Three hours, and you'll start with sweeping."
"Deal." And so that was what Balthazar did. Walsh, the owner of the Copper Prince, gave Balthazar a broom and the mage went to work sweeping all the dust in the Quarter out of Walsh's tavern in exchange for a single copper token. Not the smartest negotiator but it was a start all the same. He'd sweep, and sweep, and sweep until there was nothing left to sweep. Then he wiped down table after table, weaving through the crowded tavern to try and keep up with the dirty customers. Nimue watched from the corner of the tavern with a single thought, Idiot.
