The sky hung low over daggerfall, grey and heavy, threatening rain that hadn't quite come yet. The streets in the lower ward stank of wet brick and piss. Kael move through it like a shadow sword at his hip bumping gently with each step
He turned onto a crooked ally expecting quiet. Instead he stoped a few steps away from the next street over
Across the street three figures in white stood in front of a slumped doorway. Their movements calm.
The man in the doorway was gaunt shoulders hunched, his wife besides him clutching their two children. One of the men leaned close, hand resting on the man's shoulder to gentle. Like he was offering a drink not a decision.
Kael stepped into a shallow alcove out of sight watching from a distance.
"He's gunna go" came a voice besides him
Kael looked down. An old man sat on a stone step nearby in a patchwork coat. Eyes following the scene with practiced detachment.
Kael said nothing
The old man went on, voice low. "They're telling him he won't owe the debt. Just needs to go with them."
Kael exhaled through his nose "He owe redbone?"
"Yeah, but mercy got to him first. Smart ones move fast when they see food for the taking."
Across the street the man hesitated, as his wife gripped his arm. Gallows mercy didn't force him, they never did.
Kael watched, he was supposed to collect that man. A job from the howlers. Easy pay.
The old man rubbed his hands together "they don't drag you in, that's the trick. They let you step in on your own."
The debtor whispered something to his wife. Then pulled away from his grip, one finger brushing the child's cheek. He stepped past the men and climbed into the waiting cart without a word. The doors shut, the cart rolled away.
Kael stayed still thought about going after it but didn't. He looked at the wife and children one last time then walked away back the way he came.
"The city eats itself" the old man muttered
Rain finally began to fall. Not heavy just a light drizzle. He kept his head low moving through side streets and narrow lanes, boots splashing in the forming puddles . Daggerfall's stink clung to him.
He didn't rush, he didn't think he had to. The job didn't go as planned but it wasn't his fault. Still something in his gut felt off.
By the time he reached the gristle house. The streets were soaked. He pushed the door open, boots dragging a thin line of water behind him.
The smell of blood and smoke rolled out to meet him.