Shiress watched with an ever-growing frown tilting her lips as a little girl, no older than nine or ten years old skip up to a table covered in white roses, drop a few coins into the seller's hand, and skip off the way she had come with a rose. But not just any rose, a rosebud. A gorgeous, perfectly form rosebud with snuggly closed petals resting atop a bed of three or four leaves, and a long, thornless stem. Nothing seemed overtly wrong with the rose, or the transaction between the little girl and the seller, but if you had been sitting and watching this table for as long as Shiress had been doing, you would notice that something was very...off.
One thing that caught Shiress's attention was the fact that the majority of the roses stacked up on the tabletop were, in fact, buds, but it was the other roses that Shiress watched like a cat would a canary. These roses were fully bloomed, with open petals. Beautiful really. But where the white rosebuds littered the table, there were only a few of the fully bloomed roses. About half a dozen, if Shiress were to hazard a guess, and they were all stacked more toward the corner of the table, away from the rosebuds.
Shiress had been standing close enough to the table to overhear that the woman selling the roses was asking the same price for both, but before she would select a rose for exchange of payment, the older woman would scrutinize the buyer for a moment before choosing which rose to give. This may have caught Shiress's attention, but it was the tattooed covered, greasy haired rough looking woman that had barged past Shiress to follow a man that had just received one of the fully bloomed roses that had truly caused Shiress to take notice. Not because she thought it odd, but because it had happened twice more while she stood near the table.
Each time the old woman gave out a large rose, someone would break away from the milling crowd and head off in the same direction the buyer of the larger rose had gone. How very odd.
So, for the last bell, Shiress had meandered a short distance away, hopped on a vacated table, and just...watched.
The seller, a short, round, silver-haired woman, who incidentally reminded Shiress of what a witch from a story might look like, complete with warts and a pointed nose, had given out two larger roses, and each time, sure enough, another dodgy looking body would break free of the crowd in pursuit. That meant the seller had two roses left, and Shiress was determined to figure out what it was about those she selected for the rosebud versus those she selected for the larger rose.
Shiress thought she might know.
To test this theory, though, she needed someone to...there!
Hopping down from the table, Shiress pulled a handful of copper coins, much more than the asking price, from her purse and made her way across the road to where a beggar sat slumped against a wall and knelt down before him.
"Hello." she said and waited for glassy, bloodshot eyes to focus on her. "I need a favor, and if you do it for me, the rest of the coins are yours."
The man nodded, shuffling awkwardly to his feet, and Shiress had to fight back a gag at the overwhelming stench of old ale and sweat wafting off the man.
"Whatta gotta do?" he asked, licking his parched lips and eyeing the fistful of coins in Shiress's hand.
"Just go buy a rose." she indicated the table with her chin "That's it, just buy a rose and then.." she grimaced "go get yourself another bottle of whatever it is you drink."
The man hesitated a tick but finally held out his hand, and Shiress dumped the coins into fingerless gloves and watched as he stumbled off. Just as she suspected, not a chime later, the man was handed a rosebud and waddled off toward a tavern. There was only one large rose left, and Shiress, at last, knew exactly what was going on.
Coin purse in hand, Shiress walked over to the table, making a show of rattling the coins in their pouch.
"One rose, please." she said, and watched in satisfaction as the last rose was handed over to her, and it was all she could do not to give the woman an 'Im-on-to-you' grin as she stepped away, eyes scanning the area for the Waveguard.
It wasn't until she realized that there were no Waveguard in the area that she concluded that maybe, just maybe, she had just gotten a tad in over her head. Looking down at the rose, Shiress swallowed. Hard. Glancing around, she waited for whatever ruffian had just marked her to make their move.
Flight or fight?
~Word count - 882
One thing that caught Shiress's attention was the fact that the majority of the roses stacked up on the tabletop were, in fact, buds, but it was the other roses that Shiress watched like a cat would a canary. These roses were fully bloomed, with open petals. Beautiful really. But where the white rosebuds littered the table, there were only a few of the fully bloomed roses. About half a dozen, if Shiress were to hazard a guess, and they were all stacked more toward the corner of the table, away from the rosebuds.
Shiress had been standing close enough to the table to overhear that the woman selling the roses was asking the same price for both, but before she would select a rose for exchange of payment, the older woman would scrutinize the buyer for a moment before choosing which rose to give. This may have caught Shiress's attention, but it was the tattooed covered, greasy haired rough looking woman that had barged past Shiress to follow a man that had just received one of the fully bloomed roses that had truly caused Shiress to take notice. Not because she thought it odd, but because it had happened twice more while she stood near the table.
Each time the old woman gave out a large rose, someone would break away from the milling crowd and head off in the same direction the buyer of the larger rose had gone. How very odd.
So, for the last bell, Shiress had meandered a short distance away, hopped on a vacated table, and just...watched.
The seller, a short, round, silver-haired woman, who incidentally reminded Shiress of what a witch from a story might look like, complete with warts and a pointed nose, had given out two larger roses, and each time, sure enough, another dodgy looking body would break free of the crowd in pursuit. That meant the seller had two roses left, and Shiress was determined to figure out what it was about those she selected for the rosebud versus those she selected for the larger rose.
Shiress thought she might know.
To test this theory, though, she needed someone to...there!
Hopping down from the table, Shiress pulled a handful of copper coins, much more than the asking price, from her purse and made her way across the road to where a beggar sat slumped against a wall and knelt down before him.
"Hello." she said and waited for glassy, bloodshot eyes to focus on her. "I need a favor, and if you do it for me, the rest of the coins are yours."
The man nodded, shuffling awkwardly to his feet, and Shiress had to fight back a gag at the overwhelming stench of old ale and sweat wafting off the man.
"Whatta gotta do?" he asked, licking his parched lips and eyeing the fistful of coins in Shiress's hand.
"Just go buy a rose." she indicated the table with her chin "That's it, just buy a rose and then.." she grimaced "go get yourself another bottle of whatever it is you drink."
The man hesitated a tick but finally held out his hand, and Shiress dumped the coins into fingerless gloves and watched as he stumbled off. Just as she suspected, not a chime later, the man was handed a rosebud and waddled off toward a tavern. There was only one large rose left, and Shiress, at last, knew exactly what was going on.
Coin purse in hand, Shiress walked over to the table, making a show of rattling the coins in their pouch.
"One rose, please." she said, and watched in satisfaction as the last rose was handed over to her, and it was all she could do not to give the woman an 'Im-on-to-you' grin as she stepped away, eyes scanning the area for the Waveguard.
It wasn't until she realized that there were no Waveguard in the area that she concluded that maybe, just maybe, she had just gotten a tad in over her head. Looking down at the rose, Shiress swallowed. Hard. Glancing around, she waited for whatever ruffian had just marked her to make their move.
Flight or fight?
~Word count - 882