Casimir walked up to the gates of Delavar, a city notorious for its harsh laws and grim attitudes toward beastfolk. There were whispers that beastfolk often ended up in slavery here, treated more like property than actual beings. Many outsiders thought the city's laws clearly favored humans, which allowed for the mistreatment of those with animal-like features. But beneath this facade of cruelty, a quiet rebellion was starting to grow. A secret group called the 'Freedom Fighters' was working behind the scenes to rescue enslaved beastfolk and challenge the corrupt system. Casimir had heard rumors about their activities—smuggling captives out, spreading intel, and inciting resistance—but getting involved was risky business.
As he got closer, two guards stepped in front of him, blocking his path before he could enter. Their eyes scrutinized him carefully, with their hands resting near their weapons. One guard gestured for him to stop and proceeded to pat him down. Casimir complied, knowing it was smarter not to resist. But when the guard's hand brushed over his belongings, he tensed up, narrowing his eyes at the strange object the guard held. The guard's voice softened, but there was an edge of suspicion in it. 'Where'd you get this?' he asked, raising a shimmering void bag to the light.
Casimir kept his face neutral, giving away nothing more than he needed to. 'It was given to me,' he replied simply, not offering further explanation. The guard shared a quick look with his partner; they seemed to silently weigh their options. To Casimir's relief, they decided to let him go without more fuss. Instead of taking the bag, they handed it back to him in silence. The first guard nodded approvingly, then asked, 'What do you do? Are you an adventurer?' There was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
Casimir shook his head. 'No, I'm a bounty hunter. Got some work to take care of.' Before he could say more, the guards appeared satisfied with his answer. One guard nodded briefly and stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. Without another word, they let him into the busy streets of Delavar.
Once inside, Casimir paused to take in the scene. The streets buzzed with activity—vendors yelled over one another, children darted around, and merchants set up their stalls for the day. He scanned the crowd, looking for the bounty hunters' guild, a place found in nearly every major city where adventurers gathered and offered services. He knew that Delavar had one in the central shopping area, which was a hub for those seeking work or bidding on hazardous jobs. It was situated near the heart of the market in a modest but sturdy building with a worn sign that swayed gently in the breeze. Directly across the street was a cozy restaurant, its sign enticing passersby inside for a good meal.
Casimir pushed open the door to the bounty hunters' guild and stepped in. The air was thick with the scent of old wood, sweat, and the occasional whiff of alcohol. Inside, hunters gathered—some leaned on the bar, while others sat at rustic tables sharing stories and exchanging news. The atmosphere was charged with both rivalry and camaraderie. A long queue formed beside a sturdy counter where bounty claims were officially processed. Only five or six eager hunters waited, casting glances at one another, all hoping to grab the next big payout. Casimir took a deep breath and joined the line, knowing that patience was part of the job.
Twenty minutes later, it was finally his turn. A man with a scarred face and a single eye regarded him with interest. 'How do you do?' he asked in a gravelly voice. It was rough, but he had a commanding presence. Casimir pulled out his void bag, realizing it was drawing unwanted attention. He carefully retrieved the blackened bounty sheet and handed it over, saying, 'Not too bad, I guess.' His tone was casual, but he noticed the eyes in the room subtly turning toward his bag, as if they recognized it was something rare and valuable.
The scarred man glanced at the sheet for a moment, then looked back at Casimir with a nod. 'Quite the bag you've got there,' he murmured, leaning in slightly. 'You're lucky to have something so rare. Just be careful about bringing it out in a place like this.' His voice lowered into a whisper, meant only for Casimir. The warning was clear—valuable or mysterious items could attract unwanted attention here. Casimir nodded, understanding the risk. 'Noted,' he replied, keeping his gaze steady.
The scarred man stepped away briefly but returned a few minutes later, holding a bag filled with coins—exactly 500 Torpoise, the reward for his successful bounty. Casimir took the money, feeling the weight of the coins in his palm. 'Thanks,' he said simply, tucking the loot away. He turned to leave the guild, the promise of future work ringing in his mind.
Outside, he exchanged a quick farewell with the scarred man, who offered a gruff, 'Have a good one.' Casimir replied, firm and quick, 'Likewise,' making his way to a nearby eatery. The restaurant across the street had a warm, inviting atmosphere—an oasis of comfort from the busy city streets. As he stepped inside, the mouthwatering aroma of freshly cooked food welcomed him. He took a seat and ordered a plate of French toast dusted with powdered sugar, followed by a hearty serving of eggs, crispy bacon, and a tall glass of pineapple juice—an odd choice, but it suited his mood.
While waiting for his food, Casimir's gaze wandered around the room. He noticed a woman sitting across from him, watching him intently. There was something unsettling about her stare—too focused and too quiet. Rather than confront her, he shifted in his seat, positioning himself so her view of him was blocked. When his food arrived, he ate quickly, savoring each bite—the sweet cinnamon of the French toast, the richness of the eggs, the salty crunch of the bacon—all made for a satisfying breakfast. After finishing, he settled the bill, the customary 10 Torpoise, and stood to leave.
Stepping back outside, he felt a fresh sense of purpose. His pockets were a little heavier now thanks to the bounty. The city buzzed with life, still full of secrets and shadows. And Casimir was ready to dig deeper, uncovering what lay beneath its bustling exterior, and perhaps discovering more stories waiting to be told.
As he wandered the city streets, a knot of disgust tightened in his gut. The brutality inflicted on the beastfolk was staggering. He saw a large bear-like creature with its ribs showing, struggling to lift a heavy crate. A sharp crack resonated as a whip struck its side, causing the beast to collapse, too weak to even cry for help. Further on, he witnessed creatures, misshapen and unnatural, forced into degrading labor for the entertainment of their tormentors. Carts overflowing with the downtrodden rumbled past, their occupants huddled together like discarded waste, headed for an ominous end. Even the youngest among them, fragile and small, bore the marks of mistreatment. A wave of anger mixed with sadness washed over Casimir. Every instinct urged him to intervene, to unleash his fury against such evil. But a cold pragmatism held him back. He knew how dangerous it could be to draw attention, to challenge the status quo. With a heavy heart, he turned away, quickening his pace as the haunting images burned into his memory.
Two hours later, he realized he needed new clothes. Making his way back to the bustling shopping center, a sign caught his eye: 'Beastfolk Auction – Select Specimens Available.' His curiosity, a dangerous companion, drew him in. He pushed open the door, and a wave of despair hit him. Inside, cages lined the walls, each containing beastfolk, some no older than children, displayed like livestock. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken. The sight was like a punch to the gut—both heartbreaking and infuriating. He couldn't bear to stay. Turning on his heel, Casimir fled the awful establishment, the image of a whimpering child in a cage burned into his mind. He reached the shopping center, his resolve hardening.
Inside a well-lit clothing boutique, he began looking for suitable garments. His eyes swept over racks of shirts and trousers when suddenly he spotted her—the woman from the restaurant. A surge of suspicion coursed through him. He kept his distance, pretending to be interested in a selection of shirts and pants, his senses alert. At last, he found a black leather long coat that felt just right. He gathered his purchases and headed for the checkout.
After completing the transaction, Casimir stepped out of the shop, still on high alert. He decided he needed a comfortable place to stay, something better than his previous accommodations. A glimmer of fancy architecture caught his eye—a luxury hotel a short distance away from the shopping center. The entrance was grand: a plush red carpet greeted guests, and inside, golden chandeliers cast a warm, inviting glow. The clientele radiated wealth and importance. For a moment, he felt a pang of doubt. Did he truly belong here? Still, he approached the reception desk. The attendant, a bored-looking young woman with her hair in a neat ponytail, gave him a dismissive once-over. 'You don't really look like you fit in here,' she stated flatly. Casimir held up his bag of new clothes, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. 'I will soon. What rooms do you have available?' he asked calmly. 'We have Standard rooms,' she began, unimpressed. 'They come with a comfy bed, a private bathroom, and a sitting area. Then there's...'
Casimir cut her off, his request direct. 'I'll take your best room.' The receptionist blinked, surprise crossing her face. 'Very well. That would be our Royalty suite. It features two floors, a king-sized bed, a master bathroom, a spacious living area, a fully equipped kitchen, a private spa room, and a balcony. It costs 450 Torpoise.' Without hesitation, Casimir produced the cash. The receptionist handed him a key, her demeanor softening a little. 'Sorry for my earlier judgment,' she murmured. Casimir merely nodded and turned away, heading for his suite.
The Royalty suite was just as luxurious as it claimed. Casimir explored the lavish surroundings before heading upstairs to the bedroom. He sank onto the plush bed, its softness almost lulling him to sleep. But before giving into slumber, he decided on a refreshing shower. The bathroom was equally stunning. After cleaning up, he ventured out of his room, ready to dine at the hotel's restaurant. The meal was exceptional. Afterward, he left the hotel, a new bounty on his mind. Stepping back into the quiet night, he noted that few people roamed the streets after dark. Picking up his pace, he headed toward the Bounty Hunters Guild. Upon arrival, he accepted a contract: eliminate an orc leader terrorizing the village of Mirstone. The reward was 650 Torpoise.
As Casimir exited the building, a sense of unease clung to him. He hurried his steps, thoughts drifting towards the comfort of his hotel room. The city's late-night noises felt familiar. Suddenly, his path was interrupted by a muffled cry—sharp and desperate, it pierced through the city's hum. His eyes darted to a dark alleyway where two large figures had a woman cornered, her back pressed against the cold bricks. A jolt of recognition coursed through him. It was the same woman who had met his gaze that morning in the bustling restaurant, her stare lingering a bit too long. He hesitated, an inner conflict raging. Should he step in? Was this his fight? The moments stretched as he wrestled with indecision. Then, a flicker of resolve sparked within him. He wouldn't just stand by. With adrenaline surging, Casimir sprang into action, his voice booming as he commanded, 'Let her go.' The two thugs startled at his sudden appearance and authoritative stance, releasing their captive. They merely shot him a dismissive look before sauntering away, melting back into the city's anonymity. Casimir let out a breath of cautious relief, but he didn't notice the woman's sudden shift, her demeanor unsettlingly calm. As he turned to check on her, she was already behind him. Before he could react, her hand pressed against his back, a profound numbness spreading through him as his consciousness slipped away.
'Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!' A sharp voice jolted him back to the land of the living. He blinked against an intrusive light. A woman loomed over him, her features stark and unsettling. Dressed in a sleek black dress, her shoulder-length hair as dark as night framed a face dominated by striking red eyes. Her intense gaze was unsettling. Then, sharp pain lanced through his ribs, causing him to gasp in a ragged breath, his body instinctively recoiling. Casimir groaned, trying to move his hands to check his sides, but they were tied up. Slowly, he opened his eyes fully. 'W... where am I?' he mumbled, disorientation clouding his thoughts. The woman's smile widened, a chillingly predatory expression that sent shivers down his spine. 'Don't worry about that,' she purred, her voice dripping with mock reassurance. 'Just know we're going to have lots of fun.' Her smile twisted into something dark. 'My name is Amy,' she declared, her red eyes gleaming. 'And you're in my house.' Fear settled into Casimir's bones. 'My house is on the city's outskirts,' she added, her voice gleefully lilted. 'It'll be harder for anyone to hear you.' She punctuated her words with another unsettling grin.
Amy's cruelty had no bounds as she began her vile torment. Her hands, guided by sadistic glee, systematically crushed his fingers, each snap echoing the agony she unleashed. With heated coal, she branded his flesh, leaving marks that told stories of pure malice. Cuts and gouges marred his skin, a testament to her merciless cutting. At first, Casimir's screams filled the air, desperate pleas against the onslaught. Hours dragged by, blending into an eternity of suffering. Then, a chilling silence fell. Amy paused, disappointment flashing across her face. 'Aww, it's no fun when you don't scream,' she purred, her voice dripping with contempt. With that, she ceased her brutal assault, her twisted mind searching for more ways to inflict pain. Just then, a sharp knock sounded on the door. 'Hey Amy,' a voice called, urgent with concern. 'There's a fire outside. The house isn't on fire, but it's dangerously close.' Amy rolled her eyes in annoyance. With one last glance at her broken captive, she turned and left, the distant crackle of flames distracting her from Casimir's suffering.
Resigned to his fate, Casimir made no move to escape, choosing instead to wait for his injuries to take hold. Just before oblivion claimed him, a flicker of light caught his fading vision. A tiny fairy, Ava, flitted through the broken window. 'Hey, I'm here to help,' she chirped, her voice like a chime. She moved with incredible speed, undoing his restraints. Casimir's gaze slowly lifted, confusion clouding his eyes. 'You're... a fairy?' he whispered, barely able to speak. Seeing the life ebbing from him, Ava gently kissed his forehead. A wave of warmth coursed through him, his wounds beginning to mend as his strength surged back. Casimir pushed himself upright as Ava, no bigger than his palm, grasped his tattered shirt and lifted him effortlessly out through the window. Moments later, Amy returned and found her prisoner missing. As they soared back into the city, Casimir and Ava could hear Amy's enraged shouts and the panicked cries of her accomplices echoing from below.