"Pardon me! Sorry! Excuse me!!" The young lad apologized to many bystanders as he made his escape. The table in his hand continuously bumped into people left and right earning him many angry glares.
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, his two "matchsticks" worked tirelessly to propel him through the crowded marketplace, away from the clutched of the Mohawk gang. Turning his head back, the young lad could see several members of the Mohawk gang were slowly gaining on him with increasing speed, the big man with a red mohawk leading the charge. Their robust bodies tore through the clusters of people with relative ease whereas he was forced to duck and weave in attempt to make headway.
"That's not fair!" He grumbled as he squeezed past a couple. At this pace, the young lad knew he had no chance of escaping.
"Do I really have to..." The young lad glanced down despairingly at the table held in his hand. The table is worth 25 whole copper coins! He looked back at the oncoming Mohawk gang, and back to his table.
"Fine!" The young lad prepared to throw the table while running when all of the sudden- 'Slam!'
He was sent flying back, landing firmly seated on the ground. His table snapped in two, falling on both sides. The young lad raised his head to find an all-too-familiar broad back. "An acquaintance!" His eyes glowed, and an idea cropped up into his mind.
The burly man was frustrated. First, he had been cheated 25 coppers. Now, someone was blatantly trying to pick a fight! Did he really look that easy without his armor? The burly man turned around, ready to give the arrogant fellow a piece of his mind when he was stumped by what he saw. Wasn't this exactly the same stall keeper from earlier who had robbed him of his 25 coppers?!
"You!!" The burly man growled. "I've been meaning to pay you a visit, give me back my 25 coppers!" He held out his thick hand righteously.
"Yeah-yeah. About that. Lets call it settled. You broke my table, and as much as I would love to stay, and chat," he looked over his shoulder to find a tall red mohawk not too far away. "I need to go right now, or I might lose my LIFE!!" The young lad took off, his burlap sac bouncing up and down on his shoulder.
The burly man was perplexed. The young lad spoke so fast, he could barely understand a single word the youth was saying. The only part the burly man heard clearly was something about his life being in danger before the young lad ran away, screaming at the top of his lungs.
The burly man looked down the street, and saw several beefy men with mohawks rushing in the same direction where the lad had left easily understanding. The burly man released a sigh, he would like nothing more then for the young lad to get caught by those men and be ripped apart into pieces, but his morals did not allow him to do so. With his thick hand, he reached inside his pocket, and produced a round medallion engraved with the picture of a tall tower.
"HOLD IT!!!" The burly man erupted, hoisting his medallion in the air, stopping the big man with the red mohawk and his lackeys in their tracks. "What is the Mohawk gang doing in this part of town, Lawson?" He sternly questioned the redheaded mohawk man.
Lawson eyed the medallion, then the burly man, and laughed. "Almost didn't see you there, Sir Walden. But, if you'll excuse us, we're busy catching a thief." Lawson signaled his boys to get going.
"YOU GUYS ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE," Sir Walden hollered furiously. "Not until you make this mess clear! Or you guys can come with me! Understood?" He threatened, glaring them in the eyes.
Lawson riffled his hair, clearly annoyed as he watched the young lad wearing a straw hat run into an alley out of sight. "Fine." (Of all times I had to run into this brute.) He rolled his eyes, and placed his hand on Sir Walden's shoulder. "That boy you just protected, was a thief, and he took something very important from us, and now YOU just made us lose him! How are YOU going to make it up to us!" Lawson exasperated, tightening his grip.
"That-" Sir Walden replied curtly, brushing off Lawson's grip on his shoulder. "- is none of my business. You created quite a disturbance, and thus it was my duty to ensure you didn't cross the line. You have been warned, Lawson." As he was about to walk off, he stopped, and turned back around.
"Might I offer you a piece of advice. If the boy was a thief, and you truly lost something you deem so important, you should report it to the council, and we will gladly help you find the boy!" Sir Walden walked away after chuckling with laughter.
Lawson was visibly shaken, seething with rage. His face turned livid, matching the color of his hair. "Uh, boss do we file a report to the council?" A lackey stepped up to ask. "Like hell we do!" Lawson smacked the lackey across the back of his head. "If they get to the boy first, once they figure out what it actually is, they'll seize it! And that will be the end of us!"
"Ok, boss, so uh what now?" The lackey asked.
Lawson slapped his own forehead, leaving a fat red print on his already red forehead. "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS STILL STANDING HERE FOR? AFTER HIM!!!"