[center][h3][u][color=ed1c24]In The Center Of The Largest City Market[/color][/u][/h3][/center]

A thousand strangers eyes gave fearful glances. A blade leaving a trail of red behind, strapped to the blood covered beast. Carrying a large carcass on his shoulder. He moves through the cobblestone streets. Passing the clamoring crowds from dozens of street vendors peddling their wares, briefly turning silent. Hearing the whispers of his scars and beastfolk stereotypes. He walks straight up to a stocky beastfolk vendor, dropping the carcass down on the table. Waking the sleeping beastfolk vendor, who looks up and lets out a bemused chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, fishing out a leather bag from a chest he was resting beside and extending his arm toward him. The bloody beast grabbed the bag, it was heavy and the sound of jingling when lightly shaken gave him a brief smile.

[color=0072bc]“Sounds like the payment is all there. Thank you for doing business with me, it was a tricky creature to track and hunt. But it provided me with quite a good workout.”[/color] The beast said turning around, stopping when the vendor did an intentionally loud throat clearing.

[color=fff79a]“Bastian-you may want to go to the bath house and wash that blood off. You’re making the market goer’s uncomfortable, hell I’ve known you for years and you’re making me uneasy. Last thing I need is scared off customers during the biggest influx of new customers, because of the prisoner slave trade that starts later this morning.”[/color] The vendor explained. Bastian glanced back at the vender, eyebrows raised slightly, retaining a solemn expression.

[color=0072bc]“I suppose so, thanks.”[/color] [color=0072bc][i]“Though I don’t see why blood is so much of a problem in a city as immoral as this one. Though a prisoner slave trade? Maybe I can find someone there…”[/i][/color] Bastian thought before heading straight to the bathhouse. Stepping inside and stripping off the little clothing he had, into a steaming hot bath. Feeling relief from his aching muscles, washing himself off for a moment. Staring at the silver ring around his middle finger than letting out a sigh.
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[color=0072bc][i]“Maybe I should've rested after the night hunt.”[/i][/color] Bastian thought letting out a yawn, scratching his chest and stretching backward, hearing a loud crack, looking up at the clear morning skies. Stepping through the gathered crowd of aristocrats, a single article of their clothing probably costed more than the bag of coins he carried. The city guards had their weapons drawn, standing on a tall wooden platform, with several rows of people with balls and chains. It was clear that the prisoner slave trade had just begun...