Era and I made our way towards the south entrance to the city, hoping to spot this Vestia Lightheart. Finally, I laid eyes on what I could only believe was her. She seemed to be calling out to people on the streets, attempting to sway those entering the city to vote for her. Vestia possessed a commanding presence, standing tall and confident. Her hair, a cascade of chestnut brown waves, framed her face in a windswept, natural style. Her eyes, a vivid shade of emerald green, radiated determination and intelligence, piercing through the darkness to reveal her unwavering resolve. She appeared to be in her late twenties, her face still youthful and full of vigor.
Vestia wore a simple yet elegant attire, tailored to allow ease of movement as she navigated the city. A forest green cloak, adorned with a silver brooch in the shape of a heart, billowed behind her, adding an air of grace to her every step. Underneath, she donned a practical tunic and trousers, suitable for both city meetings and the occasional foray into the city's more secluded areas. Vestia's face carried the weight of responsibility, etched with the lines of a life dedicated to serving her community. But despite the burdens she seemed to bore, her smile was warm and genuine, a reassuring glimmer of hope that had inspired many to rally behind her cause.
Deciding to observe her for a moment, I noticed that she was yelling out to people on the street, "Sir, a moment of your time!" She seemed to be trying to call out to people one by one, but sadly, nobody was giving her the time of day. I walked up to her with confidence, "Vestia Lightheart, I presume?" Vestia stopped what she was doing for a moment, appearing pleased that someone was actively talking to her. She responded, "You would presume correctly, young man. And if you have heard my name, you know what I am running for." I nodded, "Right. You are one of the candidates running for mayor. The only other candidate, I might add." She hesitated when she heard that, "Yes, that is correct. The other candidates dropped out. I have no idea why, but that changes nothing. I will take up the mantle of running this city regardless."
I frowned, "I think I have a good theory as to why the other candidates decided to drop out if you'll hear me out." Vestia raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Do tell. I will decide if your theory holds any water." I continued, "For all of them to just drop out, I think they were either threatened, bribed, or outright forced into doing so." Vestia retorted, her face surprised, "Baseless conjecture, boy. I haven't been contacted by anyone asking me to drop out." I gave a devilish grin, "I asked around a bit, and I hate to say this, but could it be Samuel, and because he thinks you're the weakest candidate?" Her face seemed to get a bit red, and she spat out in anger, "Hogwash! That is nothing but drivel. Now, if you have nothing meaningful to say, I need to continue my campaign." I added, "Oh, but would that not make sense? Leave one person to run against, and people won't think twice when you win. It would look like he won fairly. If everyone dropped out, wouldn't that look sketchy?"
Vestia thought for a moment, "Dammit, I hate to even entertain that thought, but you do have some point. I didn't want to think of it, but so many candidates dropping out at once is highly improbable. But what does that change, boy? I still have a job to do." I suggested like the devil whispering in her ear, "Carrying on like this will do no good. I have seen firsthand the cruel underbelly of this city in my short time here. To truly make a difference, you need allies that provide information, get you resources, and help remove Samuel from the equation." Vestia thought for a moment, "Who are you exactly?" I chuckled, "Just a simple merchant with a vested interest in this election. You will find no better deal. I can provide you with the means to take this city for yourself. I'm not asking for a position of power or recognition; all I need is for you to take a chance on me."
Vestia thought deeply, then decided, "Listen, I will hear you out, but if I find what you are saying to be drivel, I will ask that you leave." I nodded, "I understand. Well, for starters, let me tell you what is really going on in the city." I began explaining what had happened since I first arrived, leaving out my confrontation with Era, in Veilstead until now. Once I was done, Vestia's eyes grew wide, "The Steel Serpents are involved here? I still find it hard to believe that their contact was Samuel. Did they provide any evidence to hold up these claims?" I responded, "Nope I assume all of their dealings were verbal, but leave that to us. I will find the evidence that Samuel had his hand in underworld dealings. Once I have the evidence, we will make our move. Are you on board?" Vestia frowned, "If you get evidence of his deals, I will be happy to provide a voice to his misdeeds. What do you have in mind?" I shook my head, "Now, now, be patient. That would spoil the main event." I turned away from her, "I will be back in an hour or so. If I am not here before 12:00 p.m., forget I was ever here."
I walked away from her, and Era chimed in, "What now? You said all that overconfident as always, but we have no real leads, do we?" I affirmed, "Yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing. I am a merchant, not a detective." Era whispered, "Idiot." I pretended I didn't hear her as I walked away from Vestia with a smile on my face.
A short young man with small brown hair, big glasses, an old wool hat, with a brown coat stepped in front of me. He said, "E-excuse me, my name is Theodore. I happened to o-overhear you talking. I work for a newspaper in the city called the Veistead Tribune. Maybe you've heard of it? Or not." I responded, "Nope." Theodore nervously squeaked, "I may have some information that might help you out, that is if you are willing to cooperate."
I replied, "We could use all the help we can get. Please do share." Theodore perked up, "I saw Samuel at the old Oakwood Bar in the east district of the city. I was chasing a story around there. I heard hushed voices discussing something with Samuel at the bar. I didn't hear what they said, but it could be something of interest." This kid really lacked the makings of a journalist with his lack of confidence. "Thanks for the information, man, but what do you get from this?" Theodore frowned, his face reddening up, his freckled face evident. "I- I wanted to crack the story first. The downfall of Samuel would be my first big break as a journalist. I would already have a story ready for the headlines." I nodded, "Ambitious, aren't you? Well, I will see to it that your hard work is rewarded." I looked at Era, "Alright, you heard the man, let's go. We have a bar to look into." Era nodded and followed along.
We arrived at the bar in question after about 10 minutes. The bar looked a lot nicer than some of the other bars on the other side of town. It had a stone structure, and the wooden doors were open, with the low rumbling of chatter heard from inside. We both stepped inside, and we spotted wooden furniture, and the smell of alcohol and merry men could be heard. It was a rowdy bar with people laughing, smoking, drinking, eating, and even playing games. I began asking people around the bar for information on Samuel, but to my dismay, nobody would give me the time of day. I asked a young man with silver hair at the bar, but he merely dismissed me with a wave, "Can't you see I am drinking, kid?" I asked a burly bearded man the same question if he knew anything about Samuel's dealings. He merely shrugged, "Never cared to listen. I am not one for politics."
Just as I was about to give up, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked around to see a drunken, muscular man. The man burped, "Oi, you there! What's a fancy lad like you doin' pokin' around here, eh? Think you can just waltz into our territory, asking questions 'bout things that don't concern you? Well, think again, mate." I backed away a little, not wanting to anger the man. He was rather tall, and his muscles were bulging. He had a thick brown beard, an eyepatch on his right eye, and his shirt was off, revealing his six-pack. His brown, patched-up pants were barely supported by his loose belt. Perhaps most unsettling was the massive axe he held over his shoulders, like it weighed no more than a toothpick. In his other hand, he held a glass half-empty as he swayed slightly unevenly on his giant legs.
I tried to calm him, "Hey there, no need for trouble, friend. I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. I'm just new in town, looking for some information. Maybe we can have a civil chat instead of getting all worked up, hm?" The man merely glared at me, his one good eye piercing through me, "Information? You think you can just waltz in here, asking questions, and everything will be peachy? Nah, it doesn't work that way, stranger. Maybe I need to teach you some manners." The man stepped forward, raising his axe, his eyes revealing his intent to strike me down. As he advanced with menacing intent, I quickly assessed the dire situation.
With no time for words or further negotiation, I instinctively reached for a nearby object—a wooden stool, and swung it with all my might. The stool hurtled through the air, straight toward the burley man. But to my astonishment, the man didn't even flinch. The stool crashed against him, shattering into splinters, but it seemed to have no effect. A chilling smile crept across the man's face as he continued his relentless advance, axe gleaming in the dim light.