The timer until I would die was ticking by waaaaay faster than I thought. I was on the way to the black market and healers, doctors and especially priests were above my league. Better die than paying those greedy fellows more than bronze for a more than less shady business of exploiting the ill and dying. No thanks.
And the health potions I owned couldn't avoid the status effect of a heart attack. I wondered how I even got one. Coven's death shocked me beyond reason and made me furious, mainly on myself and that I couldn't save him, but could those be triggers for a condition like this?
[The status effect [Heart attack] was triggered by the stress you went through the last hour. It should be a reminder to yourself to avoid long-term stressful conditions to avoid illness, mental breakdowns, burnouts and other illnesses closely related and caused by stress. You're welcome.]
I grit my teeth at the audacity of the game developers to add a function like that. Like: Oh, you experienced heartbreak and stress, let's add on to the negative emotions by lecturing you and making you either pay up to any class with healing abilities or die. What a nice idea!
Less than fifteen minutes later I reached the entrance. Better said one of the entrances. The black market was an open secret. Three "inoffical-offical" entrances were leading to the underground chambers and tunnels deep under the foundation of Daystreak. And although even the guards and soldiers knew the location of the black market and the entrance, the black market still flourished. According to the tales of NPCs, two factors were enabling this: The first factor was the location. Tunnels digging deeper than the sewers, dozens of meters into the earth filled by the guardians of the black market. Forget a thousand or a ten thousand. Even if the city lord would send all his troops to obliterate the market, it would result in failure. The tunnels were partly broad and partly narrow. It was said, the walls could even move and change the whole structure of the whole tunnel system. Shortly said: It was a labyrinth in favor of the owners of the black market. They lived in the depths beyond the dark market in tunnels any other human than them had never seen. People reasoned that this caused the guards of the black market to have pale, almost translucent skin because they seldomly saw the sun. They were feared as much as they were admired for their freedom.
Because the second factor was the leadership of the faction behind the black market. The leader of the guards of the black market and even some families living in those tunnels, referred to as 'Lord of the Underworld' by common people. Feared and revered equally by the "righteous" nobles, officials, guards and even the city lord himself. This was claimed by rumors at last.
Many mysterious stories were woven around this man and the magnitude of them was a result of bad food or a very over imaginative mindset. But the core of it ranked around a famous story that was better left untold in the upper circles. Many years ago, shortly after the old city lord died and the position was handed to one of his sons, the Lord of the Underworld appeared for the first time, claiming himself as protector of trade for anyone. This helped the common people which led to a prosperous outlook for the coming years. But as it was exposed that the city lord profited from unfair business and held his protecting hand over the most vile kinds of trade like slavery, human trafficking, embezzlement and more, the man who desired justice became a thorn in the eyes of the city lord.
He sent his soldiers to imprison him, but the common people hindered the soldiers and he could flee. So assassins were sent to kill the man. Many believed he had died and mourned for him after his disappearance.
But years later a man appeared, closely resembling their hero. But he was gravely scarred and hurt. He told the people that his survival cost him broken bones who never grew together properly again and changed his voice forever.
He had a scar around his vocal cords. According to rumors he was almost killed and fell into one of the tunnels. The assassins left him to die but the merciful gods wanted him to survive. He crawled the tunnels up, and after he ascended, he was no longer man but demon. Filled with rage and madness to avenge himself.
But to the surprise of everyone, his revenge was comparable to wrapping himself in poisoned cotton. He wasn't hurt, and every attack caused him no harm. But any attacker suffered gravely by the poison. Only that the tunnels were his poisonous cotton.
The hero of the people was now longer their hero in shining armor and many despised him for "hiding like a rat" and his trickery to kill any attacker of the slowly establishing trade zone under the ground. But those who were saved through the man became his army and made the tunnels to an impregnable fortress.
Many times, the guards or other factions tried to lure them out, kill them all or just their leader. But the schemes always failed and while the influence and power of the city lord diminished, the realm of the Lord of the Underworld was flourishing.
And it developed into a strangely silent status quo. The city lord couldn't obliterate the rebels and they couldn't and wouldn't attack his faction. This caused the actual black market to become a neutral zone. It was separated from the entrances and the lower levels of the tunnels in which the guards of the black market had their inner fortress and living space.
People like me didn't use the black market often. Coven often warned me to be wary of the place. Dark and vile creatures, spies and killers of both parties were all around the market, starting quarrels and skirmishes. Naturally they were thrown out by the guards of the black market, but there were sometimes casualties or people being hurt by the fighting. I was careful the first time I was there and still lost my purse. At least it had been only filled with brass but still, I didn't notice when it was stolen.
But now it was maybe the only chance to get information about the possible killer and to find evidence for their stealing through the robbed products. So I headed to the entrance, paid the toll for entrance consisting of two copper coins plus the pawn of one bronze for the token of a visitor and entered the tunnel to the black market. Many others were in the tunnel, moving either inside or outside. Considering that this wasn't the only entrance, the influx of people was incredible. Even the market close to the trade center of Daystreak, which could be considered the main square for business activity, wasn't as populated and widespread as the black market.
Soon I reached the heart of this gigantic business, the largest free space that people could head to. The merchants who owned stalls here had to pay a lot to keep them because everyone wanted their business here. There were few other tunnels which were as sought after as a place here. Large columns carried the outer structure and the center of this cave could only be described as grand: glass ceilings were separating the five levels of the cave so anybody could watch the breathtaking depiction towering over the heads of those merchants in the center of the market. Compared to the gigantic columns, the image could seem small but considering the height between the levels it was gigantic. Approximately 30 to 40 meters were between the lowest level and the ceiling.
If I didn't know of the danger of it, I could have stared at it for a long time. The depiction showed a higher being, maybe a demon, taking the stars from the skies with one hand while crushing them with another. The glittery dust of the crushed stars rained down on the image of a huge crowd of people who cheered and bathed in the glitter and gold raining down upon them.
Any fool could get the message behind this mural: The stars stood for the nobles and the city lord, shining rich and bright above the common people on the ground. The demon stood for the Lord of the Underworld and him taking the pretense and riches as well as glory and sparkling facade off the people thinking themselves above the commoners. And him raining down gold and riches was the opportunity he gave them to get rich, powerful and a star as well if they remained here. Under his rules and care, trading on the black market.
But at the end of the narrative, he would have to be a demon to be able to crush the stars. Like being ruthless and resisting like a rebel to oppress the nobles. Like the tellings in many beliefs in which the demons were rebels or just a rebellious bunch of traitors to their original belief.
But as I said, I did not focus on the image but walked to a corner to find a register. The registers allowed players to instantly scroll to offered products and made it easier to buy and compare the prizes.
So it was no wonder I narrowed down a few stalls and planned a route to check them all. Maybe I could get a clue from them.
Ten minutes later I arrived at the last stall. The other three provided me with the details, that their merchandise was brought from the producer or was recently brought in by carriage or boat. Only one merchant remained. I halted in front of his stall and tried to speak to him casually: "What does the red cloak cost?"
"It's 15 gold."
"Would you sell it lower? I saw another stall a few moments ago where they wanted less than you."
"They must be blind to sell this item under its original price. It is a very good magical equipment, the [Crimson Phoenix Magican's Robe] and stylish as well! The wearer can be either man or woman, anyone will look good in it! So I don't see the need to lessen my price."
"But yours looks like it wasn't bought from the maker? Was it used by a great mage? Or was it the drop of a famous hunter?"
"I don't reveal my sellers, but be assured that the cloak is in perfect condition!"
Jackpot! I thought immediately. The other stalls revealed their sellers instantly, to either promote their product or keep me from bartering to lower the price. But this merchant was shady in not revealing the seller or even something close to the origin of the cloak.
"How can I be assured that everything is fine with it? Had the previous owner damaged the goods? Or is the seller a criminal who robbed it of a noble?"
The merchant was confused at first, then his face morphed to anger, then rage.
"You dare question my products and criticize my sources?" the man grunted, huffing like an enraged boar.
"I wouldn't dare." My voice was calm and collected, a trick I picked up from Coven to argue or barter more cunning. "I only want to confirm that I buy the most superior product. But if you talk with me like this, how should I believe that what you claim is true and you aren't selling me something of lower quality?"
The man calmed visibly and tried to use a more ingratiating tone to redeem his 'mistake' to be unkind to a possible customer.
"I am deeply sorry, dear customer, but one can't be careful enough with the reputation. Buying products of a criminal is an absolute no-go for merchants like me. I only buy my products from larger guilds or associations like the magic tower or adventurers."
"Are you referring to revenant guilds?" I faked an excited face, copying the usual speech NPCs used to deceive him to think of me as a 'normal' human instead of a revenant like the NPCs referred to players.
"Yes, I only have high class guilds delivering me high class items."
"That is very assuring. So you only use such high quality channels and never smaller ones?"
"No, one can't be assured of the quality of the small sellers, but the larger guilds and the magic tower offer only the best products and superior quality."
I wasn't assured if this was my cloak but it was possible for the killer to be belonging to either the magic tower or one of the larger guilds. So I needed to find out where the cloak came from.
"Was this cloak provided by the magic tower?" I let my eyes sparkle and my voice sounded overly excited. The merchant was suspecting nothing. He just smiled more brightly, maybe assured that a gullible customer appeared to whom could be easily sold some of his overpriced merchandise.
"This beautiful cloak was a drop of a high level monster and I bought it from..." The man stopped talking and looked behind me. "Honored sirs, what do I owe the pleasure?"
I turned around, facing a pair of guards. Not any guards - the guards of the black market stood right in front of me. As I saw the question marks above their heads, I swallowed hard.
"You need to come with us."