Town Square - Pilton

Entering into the town square seems like walking into the midst of organized chaos. The cobblestone is at times packed with people heading off somewhere, or just having a friendly chat with a neighbor or two. Along the east side rests a variety of markets, many decorated with bright colors that have long ago faded to much duller tones. A few trees line the walkways, and at times even a few youngsters line the trees, relaxing for a bit before being called home. Many of the buildings around, including the Church, the town hall, and the taveren have an aged look to them, very few decorations or hilights on or around the building.

As the sun sets, many of the crowds go home, the buildings close their doors, and life comes to somewhat of a halt. Candles can be seen burning in the Church, very little light except for the moon illuminating the square. At times, one can almost see people lurking in the darkness, but whether it is truth or imagination is unsure.

A cool breeze blows from the west, driving dark clouds before it which blot out the stars in patches overhead. Elsewhere they glitter brightly in the dark sapphire sky.

----

Papusza is making her way steadily through the square, looking about her cautiously every now and then. She seems perhaps a bit nervous, but there is a certainty to her gait.

Ever so slightly, Gavin watches the nervous path and casually starts to walk in the same direction. His pace stays casual though confident.

Papusza gently tucks a few of her curls back behind her ears, gaze still flickering about the others out and about, as she carefully weaves her way through them, trying always to keep the farthest possible distance from everyone.

Gavin just continues walking in the same direction as you though easily allows much distance so as not to raise any red flags.

Papusza hasn't seemed to pick up on anything other than the normal yet, but that doesn't keep her from seeming rather uncomfortable. A hand comes up to idly run over the scar that marks her face, as she ducks around a few people.

Gavin's chin is lifted slightly as he watches your quick trek through the streets. His gaze quickly shifts to those that you dodge around as if looking for any indication that you could be up to foul play.

Papusza casts one last glance back over her shoulder, before making her way further east of the square.

You head east, into the marketplace.

-----

Asant Street - Marketplace - Pilton

Sheltered by the high city wall on the east and opening onto the town square to the west, this appears to be the most upscale section of the vast marketplace which surrounds the eastern half of the square. All of the shops here are housed in snug storefronts with elaborate signs picturing their wares. Clothiers, haberdashers, perfumers, spice merchants and other purveyors of exotic and expensive goods inhabit this area. The cobblestone street is almost clean, enjoying only foot traffic, the occasional horse and the best carriages. The gutters appear to be swept free of the usual debris on a semi-regular basis. To the north are the farmers' market and other food and household goods vendors. To the south is the heavy industry of the marketplace.

The storefronts are closed for the night, their shutters locked and their doors barred. It is clear that these merchants do not live behind their shops. It is relatively quiet save for the regular guardsmen walking through. The sounds of the tavern and the square are clearly heard in the absence of the day's crowd.

A cool breeze blows from the west, driving dark clouds before it which blot out the stars in patches overhead. Elsewhere they glitter brightly in the dark sapphire sky.

----

William is standing outside a storefront. Above the door is a sign showing a needle and spindle of thread. Beside him is a woven wicker basket with all sorts of textiles and articles of clothing.

Papusza continues her quick pace into the marketplace, still looking about her anxiously. She slows at the crowds, pausing to take a bit of a look around, before she continues on her way, altering course slightly to avoid the more crowded areas of the place.

The marketplace is crowded, goodwives shopping and gossiping, a few wealthy wives going in and out of the jewelers and the dressmakers. The bartering and hawking in the farmer's markets to the north is clearly heard.

Gavin walks along slowly, his gaze pretty much fixed on Papusza and her skittish behavior though an occasional passerby grabs his attention briefly. They often get a small nod that could pass as some form of greeting.

Peter slinks silently along thru the crowds, occasionally making a pitiful request of some woman, never approaching the men, and once or twice for his troubles given a penny.

William cries out in a strong voice, trying to be heard over the others selling their wares - not to metion the general bustle of the crowd. "The finest clothes in Pilton, right here. The greatest fashions at the greatest price..."

Papusza blinks, taken a bit aback as someone cuts in a bit too close for her personal comfort, and she stumbles slightly. This gives her pause again, and she casts a glance back over her shoulder, as if considering just turning and going back. But no, she continues forth, her newly altered path taking her nearer to the storefronts now.

Collins stands towards the back and watches the goings on. She looks about from person to person. Looking them up and down, curious.

Gavin is simply walking along, most of his attention on Papusza as he tries to track her path though William's cry grabs a quick glance from the guard.

Peter weaves steadily through the crowd, casting a glance at the clothier then moving on. The odd girl in the bright clothing however caches his attention and he moves over, blocking her path for a moment as he looks pitifully up at her and begs for 'alms', one dirty scrawny hand reaching for her arm pleadingly.

Collins walks a bit and trips. She bumps into a man and blurts out a quick, "Ach. Sorry sir, I dinna see you there." She watches him pass.

William is busy with a well-off looking women who seems to be interested in a new shift. Though he is thoroughly into the transaction, his eyes continually flicker to the basket of goods at his feet and the rest of the crowd.

Papusza's eyes go wide as the boy steps in front of her, and she inhales sharply. Still, he doesn't seem to pose a real threat, and after a few long moments of staring at his hand on her arm, she relaxes slightly. Enough to dig up a small coin and offer it to Peter with a nervous smile.

Gavin's steps halt for a moment as he simply takes a moment to observe any oddities. Of coures, Papusza is his favorite in regards to who gets the most attention.

Peter grins widely up at the lady and takes the coin. He mutters his thanks in the thick local accent, brushing against her as he moves away, shoving his hand into a small pouch at his belt.

Collins takes a hand and puts something in a pouch. She grins and keeps watching the people around.

William seems to be arguing over price. He shakes the shift from time to time, pointing out certain points that perhaps have greater virtues than the client may have realized. The lady's body language is one of feigned disbelief. On and on and on it goes.

Papusza furrows her brow slightly, pausing mid-step to cast a rather puzzled look back in the direction that the boy went. She pats the front of her outfit for a quick moment, before a look of distinct realization crosses her face. "I am being stolen from!" she reports indignantly, her voice clear, if not all that loud.

Edgar cocks his head to one side as he hears the fact that something has been stolen. He pushes his way through the crowd to get to the spot of the commotion. "What seems to be the problem?"

Peter looks back at the lady and tries to slip faster through the crowd, a rising look of panic on his dirty face as he spots the guard moving towards the woman he'd just got a coin from.

Collins steps back and looks around trying to see what is going on, but she doesn't want to be seen too close to the action.

William upon hearing the clear accusation of being stolen from, his attention switches entirely from his client to the basket at his feet. He clasps the shift close to his chest and bends down to pick up the basket, tossing the shift in it, and holding the basket in both hands. He takes a step into the door of his storefront, not allowing anyone to enter or leave until the situation is resolved or the crowd more settled, at least.

Papusza's eyes go wide again at all of the attention she's suddenly attracted. She'd called out the accusation without thinking, caught in the heat of the moment, and now almost regrets it. Studying those around her, she shuffles back a few steps, posture immediately going submissive and almost apologetic. "I - I am missing of my pouch," she explains in a softer tone. "The boy," she adds in explanation, though it probably doesn't clarify much for anyone who didn't already have a clue what had happened.

Edgar looks about and asks, "What boy?" His eyes fix on a scared figure a quick stride away. He points. "That him?" Without even waiting for an answer, he pushes the crowd out of his way and garbs the boy by the back of the neck and drags his back to the spot.

Peter yelps as he is grabbed and dragged back by the guardsman, "I din't do nuffin!" he insists, resisting the tug of the much larger man.

Since Gavin's attention was stolen by a passerby that really became more of a 'give him an earful about the slums of the city' by, he takes the yelp of someone being stolen from as a great way to rescue him from having to be political for the moment. He holds up his hand to halt the woman with a never-ending supply of breath. Granted, he doesn't wait for her to continue or not, but heads in the direction of his fellow guardsman and the boy claiming innocense, "What is the problem here." His gaze narrows on the kid.

Collins finds her way as far away from the situation as possible but still stays within hearing distance.

William is standing with his back against the closed door to his business. One hand encircles the woven basket of clothes, the other has a protective hand on top of the pile of clothes within it. The lady who had been trying to buy a shift is tapping him on the shoulder, trying - in vain - to get his attention. Eyes narrowed into slits, he stands on tip-toe, watching the scene with an acute attentiveness.

Papusza seems completely at a loss now. Her hand comes up to gently clasp at the ring hanging on a chain around her neck, partly to make sure that it is still there, but mostly as a comforting gesture. "I - I am ... perhaps being - mistaken?" she ventures, giving the boy a quizzical look.

Peter's eyes plead with the lady begging her silently not to give him away. He repeats his protestations of innocence, "I din't steal nuffin, she done gi' me a copper!"

"Then you will not mind me searching your pockets." Gavin answers calmly though his voice has a sharp edge to it that leaves no room for the kid to really barter.

Edgar grabs the boys arms and keeps them behind him, almost painfully.

Collins winces and looks to back to William. She stays quiet.

Peter yelps again and squirms, still protesting as the guards do what they wish, a child being surely no match for soldiers.

Taking the yelp as a quick form of agreement, Gavin starts to pat the boy down looking for anything that may constitute as too much coin or possessions for a street rat to have, "Really, boy, you know we don't like trouble here."

A flash of pity crosses Papusza's eyes, and a look almost of understanding. "Perhaps it - it was dropped by me," she adds, her voice louder now, though there is a distinct tremble to it. "It is being old. I am not - having of much here." The last words seem to be pointed more at the boy than the guards.

Graham filters out of the crowd from the north and continues down the cobblestone in the marketplace

William, seeing that the boy has been apprehended and is being searched, he looks at the woman as if she doesn't exist, says a few words, nods, and exchanges the shift on top of the pile of clothes in his basket for a few coins. He then opens the door to his storefront, steps in, and closes the door behind him.

Gavin's oversized hand slips into Peter's pouch in the searching process, probably as a way to gauge how much the kid gets from begging as well as retrieve the stolen pouch from its depths. He pulls out the pouch and then looks from the accuser to the thief, his brows rising slowly as he tosses out the silent question: Explain.

Edgar pulls the young boys arms even tighter, evidently causing a great deal of pain.

Peter whimpers and starts to cry pitifully, using every trick in his arsenal to garner a bit of sympathy, "I were hongry, sirs, t'weren't meanin no harm." And well might the ruse work did he not then glance slyly at the guard to gauge its effect.

The pleas really are ineffective with Gavin. He just looks down at the boy distastefully before pulling open the mouth of the pouch to look inside to see exactly what was stolen, "If you are hungry, Boy..." He lets the given title linger for a while before adding, "Go to the church."

Papusza's eyes open wide again, and she looks about at the guards and the boy, then briefly out at the onlookers. "I - am getting that back now?" she inquires, holding out a jeweled hand towards her pouch, and staring imploringly at the guards.

William peers out from the window, watching intently as he was before.

Gavin's brows remain risen as he closes the pouch, "It must be used as evidence until the child is properly punished." He nods towards Edgar, "Take him away. I will be there shortly to make sure the boy gets a clear message about the path that crime will lead." His gaze slides back to Papusza, "You don't mind coming back to the guardhouse to retrieve it, will you?"

Edgar nods at Gavin and looks to the young boy in his hands. He grins at the boy and sneers through his teeth. "Yes, come with me... sir." He grabs the boy's arm and twists it around behind him. He almost breaks it and pushes the boy out of the shop.

Peter looks around at the unsympathetic glances of the crowd and then up again at the guards, his tears appear all too real this time as they burst forth. "I were only doin' wot I were tol'. I were beggin clean like afore them as has their little robbers meetins got me." His wails are almost incoherent and make little sense. He continues to cry as he is dragged away

Papusza looks wildly about, confusion clear in her eyes. "I - I am not doing anything wrong!" she protests, hand coming up to play with the ring again. "I am just wanting of my bag." She tries her most pleading look again. (repose)

Ever so slowly, the tiniest hint of a smile appears at the corners of Gavin's lips as he looks from the sobbing child to the frantic Papusza. His voice is buttery smoothe as he replies to the woman first, "Really it is only a small procedure that I must follow. I'm certain a fine law abiding citizen like you would certainly understand that you may be reunited with your belongings at the guardhouse." And then his smile widens as he starts walking towards the west.

"I - I - I," Papusza attempts, staring after the guard, then back in the other direction. She's completely torn between her desire to get the large share of her worldly possessions, and not having to go along with the guards. Finally, with a bit of a sigh of dread, she slowly starts off after her pouch and its possessor.

Edgar nods at Gavin and looks to the young boy in his hands. He grins at the boy and says, "Yes, come with me." As if the boy had any choice. He sneers,"Sir." He grabs the boy's arm and twists it around behind him. He almost breaks it and pushes the boy out of the shop.

William ever so discretely, opens the door and steps outside, staring off at the scene, eyes still slits - sans basket.

[ scene change]

Guardhouse Common Room(#314RAhJl)

A fairly large room, roughly square in shape, most of the light within coming from oil lamps which have been judiciously hung upon the walls, several yards of space between each. A small fireplace has been built in the middle of the western wall, in order to provide a modicum of heat within the chamber. There is usually at least a small fire burning, be it within the depths of winter or the midst of summer. Above it, upon the wall, the emblazoned insignia of the Guard hangs. A large round crest of blue to match the hue of their uniform tunics, a rampant wolf in argent silver rearing up in the center, it casts its presence out over the chamber.

By far the largest feature of the rather spartan room is the long round table that sits in the center, surrounded by wooden chairs. The great oval serves as a place for the men of the Guard to gather, socialize, receive orders and briefings, and play cards and dice. There is always at least one man sitting, whittling away his time, having pulled the watch duty shift. He serves the dual purposes of guarding any residents the cells may have, and greeting any of Pilton's citizens who find themselves compelled to come to the Guard for some reason.

There are three cells for prisoners, two in the north wall and one in the east, the northwestern being the largest, the other two equal in their smaller size. Heavy bars of wrought iron provide a window into each of the dank and gritty lock-holes, any prisoners revealed in their miserable state. The heavy wooden door that opens onto the street sits in the south wall, very near to the corner formed with the western. In the western wall, at its northern end, another door sits, providing access to a hallway which in turn provides access to the quarters and offices of the Guard officers, as well as the barracks of the bashers and thugs who make up the lower ranks of the Guard.

A cool breeze blows from the west, driving dark clouds before it which blot out the stars in patches overhead. Elsewhere they glitter brightly in the dark sapphire sky.

----

Edgar slams Peter up against the bars of a cell. He holds him there.

"Lieutenant, really now, do not break the boy." Gavin speaks with a small bit of sarcasm as he steps inside the safe haven for his manner of conducting business. Once inside, he opens the pouch again and pulls out a few coppers before offering the pouch back to Papusza, "There. We've taken care of our procedure of a small fee to process the return of stolen goods."

Papusza furrows her brow, seeming a bit confused by that. She takes the pouch, peering questioningly inside as if it might contain the answers, before looking back to Gavin. "But - those are belonging to me," she points out in a low voice.

Peter yelps as he is manhandled by the guards, repeating his incoherent ramblings about thieves meetings and orders and other maunderings.

Edgar looks to Gavin and says, "Yessir." He still holds the boy's arm behind his back and his face into the bars.

Gavin's brows rise as if he's pretty much disbelieving of the woman's gall to complain, "No, they now belong to the guard that was able to return your stolen goods. Imagine if we were not there. You would have simply blamed yourself and never had the items returned." He pauses for the span of a several heartbeats before asking, "And you would not be accusing us of stealing, would you? That might be considered treasonous to the nobles that hire us to protect you."

Papusza studies Gavin in disbelief for a long moment of silence. "Shenglo," she mutters in a low voice, her accent thick as she returns to her native tongue. "I would not be doing such things, no," she replies in a level tone.

"Good. Then you are dismissed." Gavin says calmly before turning his full attention to the unfortunate boy, "Now, lad, what is this about a meeting and someone instructing you to do what you've done?"

Peter stares up at the guard, clearly terrified as evidenced by the spreading stain at the front of his hose. "I dunno nuffin, yer lordship, sir. I were jist told as I gots ta steal not only beg and give it ta some girl or be run off tha street an back ta tha Church, sir."

Edgar continues to hold the boy and waits for orders from his superior.

Papusza bows her head, turning to go. She hesitates, then glances back over her shoulder. "Please, do not be acting too much on him. He is but a young shav," she asks, in a low voice, turning imploring eyes once more on the guards.

Gavin slowly folds his arms over his chest, cupping the coins in his hands as he looks at the boy, "What girl?" He slides a gaze over to Papusza to answer her, "Fear not. This is his first offense and he /is/ but a child." His smile slowly emerges into an almost reassuring gesture.

Peter shakes his head, still crying, "Jis a girl, a street rat. Don' be knowin no names." He is still trying to squirm away from the guard that holds him, useless as that may be.

Papusza considers this, contemplative gaze flickering over the two guards and the boy. Finally, with a bit of a sigh, she bows her head again, realizing she has little choice but to take Gavin at his word. "I will be thanking you, then," she comments in a low tone, and none to sincerely, before turning to go again.

"Well, there are consequences for the choices you make." Gavin's attention slips back to the child as he nods towards Edgar to pry him off of the bars while still keeping a hold on the kid, "I will give you an option here that will determine the level of punishment you receive. If you choose well, you can nearly walk out of here with little damage. If you do not, you will be taught a more harsh lesson." He glances back at Papusza once more, nodding to her as he takes a moment to look over her entire figure.

Edgar pulls the boy away from the bars and takes hold of his hair. He pulls the boy around to look at Papusza, obviously as an example of what can happen if you don't co-operate.

Peter whimpers and looks up at the guard frightfully then at the flor and remains silent.

Feeling the gazes upon her, Papusza hesitates, drawing her shoulders up slightly and lowering her head, as if trying to retreat into a non-existent shell. She casts another look back over her shoulder, more inquiring this time as to what is being looked at. She hugs the pouch close to her chest.

Gavin approaches the boy, lowering his voice to speak to the child though Edgar is likely to overhear his words, he mutters to Peter, "... you ... on our ... this, ... can go free ... harsh warning. ... put ... up ... this....with those ... would ... trouble so ... then I ... to you ... was ... me ... I ... mischief as a ... Boy, ... agree ... get it, then you are ..." His gaze narrows ever so slightly on the kid as he speaks.

Edgar leans in over the boys shoulder and grins. A bit of incentive.

Peter shudders, but keeps his gaze on the floor, muttering only "I dunno no name."

"I will give you one month then." Gavin replies softly, in the most gentle of tones, "We are not trying to hurt you. We want to see you playing on the winning side and want to help you."

Papusza's intense gaze flickers one last time over the trio of good guys and bad guys - though which is which is harder to discern. Then she does turn to go for real this time, starting a slow pace towards the door.

Edgar looks to Gavin for his signal to release the boy.

Peter makes not a movement, his eyes still fixed on the floor and imply mutters something that might be an affirmative.

Gavin does glances once more towards Papusza's backside as she leaves before going to the more pressing matter of the moment, "I need to hear you clearly."