The slums life of Greyhawk’s streets were a normal site to me as my little sister and I made ourway through the crowd of animal herders and shifty tieflings. I had no valuables and most knew that.
“Hurry up EvenDur!” My little sister yells to me as she races ahead, I laugh following my only tie to my past life. My sister has called me by my nickname Dur since the day our parents died. Our parent contracted a dangerous disease when we were younger. I have been living on the streets for six years and twelve days.
We lingered past the bakers stand in the city market. My sister admired his work and asked questions while I secreted a newly-baked loaf into my black hoodie. We did this everyday with a different shop owner. There were always new people in the city center.
“OK Lillie”, I said, ” the nice man has work to do” The bearded man smiled at me and I smiled back. I took Lillie’s hand a pulled her to the Black Dog pub, the bar that we always went to learn what was going on in the town.
The pub’s old door with one mysterious claw mark was a welcome site to me. It was where my mom and I would go every weekend.
I sat I a creaky, old padded stool and ordered a cup of water for me while Lillie walked around the bar talking with the hooded Orks and the Elven wizards. She always managed to make others laugh.
I listened to the conversations around me. Bandit attacks were becoming more frequent to those who who opposed them. The need for the mayor to start helping was great.
“The scumbags killed my uncle three weeks ago” said a gruff looking man to an audience of other opposer’s, including myself. A man stood up at the other side of the tavern. He wore the red cloak of the bandits. The gruff man continued the story. “I mean, they killed him in his sleep the basta-”
A shortsword was slipped around his throat instantly. The bandit raised his hood, a human with a large beard.
“What were you gonna say buddy?”
I don’t know what made me do it, but I stood up and said “I believe that he was going to say that you were bastards, sir.”
Others stared at me in shock at my statement. Some of the braver ones laughed. The red-cloaked man glared at me and let go of the storyteller. He slapped me across the face with only his fingernails. I felt the hot blood on my face. I chuckled and stared into his eyes. I did not blink, not once. He turned and walked out the doors.
I heard cheers across the bar and I realized that the whole tavern had gone silent. Men clapped me on the back and women shot me looks of happiness. I was the first to stand up to them. I found Lillie, chatting with a small frog on the back of a witch.
Despite the euphoria I knew, I would pay for the small victory.