Hexatron Tales - Respect

Chapter 9 – Torbiro the halfling

“Look here ya little speck” said the bard.

“Why don’t you tell me what actually happened, huh!” the bard gesturing some feint interest. The man in question is indeed small as he is not a member of the human descent. He is of a halfling descent or more to the common descript a sneak-thief. A lowly creature that has absolutely no real value in any sort of society ~ structure of social upbringing ~ and is just a creature born to leech and steal and laze about, throughout their life. Though it is known that halflings are borne into a farming culture, many see their action in the city sprawl as evil and criminal.

“I can see you just fine, Bard” said Torbiro, seeing the lengthy shadow extending away from the sewer grate.

“Let me tell you the real story if you would reframe from putting more salt in my wound, with your sarcastic comments” said Torbiro with genuine words. Torbiro is indeed a halfling. But his story starts on a day just like any other. Although many will not take his words with a grain of salt due to many opposing factors. He is what many people have described as a good person.

“Well what do you have to say for yourself” said the bard demanding more from the squeaky little voice, and irritated at being stopped from participating in the joyous festivities. Torbiro starts to clear his voice and begins with “it all started with…” but unfortunately the shadow of the bard from the sewer grate had vanished. “Well that was rude” said Torbiro, feeling left out. “I guess everyone must believe in the king’s propaganda, then the truth?”

“Hey, little boy” said a short figure crouching from the sewer grate. “Heard you say something about a story” says the figure with interested curiosity. “Well, I can tell you but it might be a long one” Torbiro explains politely. “Well, I can wait cuz’ I’m lost and there are too big a crowd” said the figure as he replies.

Well as I was saying, it all started one morning just like any morning in Traytos. I was in my master’s attic working for him as his apprentice clockwork repairman. I fixed old clocks and broken clockwork toys and other bits and pieces when I cloaked man burst in his shop.

Chapter 10 – To be a knight

Clicking, clacking and sounds of springs and a rusty old gear scraping against another. The room was filled with clocks big and small. Rotating devices, with springs and gears and filament with precision slots and ball bearings moving in intricate and dynamic motions. The sounds of springs reacting to the pull or weight of the device as it hits a cylindrical object. More and more ticking sounds and rolling sounds as though the room was alive with motion.

As though every second and “click” had filled such a room with the absence quiet. A clock or more precise half a clock ticks, ticks, and ticks some more until the hammer of this particular device is about to reach its zenith. The hammer is released and it strikes a bell. But the sound is muffled, it is a soft “ting” compared to the chaos of noise in the room. The hammer again strikes the bell but this time it is off its mark and strikes not the bell but a makeshift bed.

“Tor… Torro… Torbiro” says a very disgruntled man. “Torbiro, wh’re ‘re ye? Ya lazy excuse of an appr’ntice” said a surly sounding man, trying to look for Torbiro.

A makeshift bed with makeshift feet made of strong but old clock hands support the bed in a very unusual position. A boy laying in a foetal position, curled up in a ball like some sort of cat. The tattered rags cover him as a sort of makeshift blanket to ward off the cold, though not really. The bed is mostly made of softer and more flexible clockwork pieces. Leather straps, flexible tin filament, copper springs and lighter than cloth mithril rings. He rolls left and then rolls right in such a fashion of a ball moving to the tilting of a moving platform. Torbiro too, is like a ball moving with the sway of his bed as it too is not a stationary object.

He rolls left just as the hammer of the clock strikes his bed missing him by a hairs breathe. Well missing his body by a hair’s breathe, but trapping his cotton shirt between the hammer and his bed. He rolls to his right and he strikes the iron hammer, waking him abruptly from his sleep. He like many of us, tries to return to the euphoria of sleep but then quickly realises that he was in fact in mortal danger.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” said Torbiro as he cries in oblivious distress. He tugs his ragged leather smock in a chaotic panic when he hears his master’s morning call. “Ma…Master, Master Dorian… help me” Said Torbiro in a stressful panic, as he fails to remove his trapped shirt.

“Boy git ou’ ta bed dis instan’ or no buttered sweat rolls for you” Said master Dorian as he yelled at Torbiro. Dorian pulls open the latch of his attic, to rustle up his much needed apprentice to handle day to day duties. He enters the room and pulls on a rope like pulley. This action seemed to have halted the percussion of noise from the bits and bobs in the room. The parts and pieces of the room, seemed to reset and move in a reverse motion. With that, large amounts of stream and thick condensation of gas filling the attic with warm steam.

Torbiro, having been saved by his master yet again, gathers himself and rushes over to thank and praise his master. Unfortunately, instead of getting the “I came rushing to save you” speech, Torbiro is pounded to the ground by his dwarven master, getting the “Stop wasting time and get back to work” lecture.

After regaining his senses, Torbiro headed down to the shop where he had to work to earn his keep, such as paying for living quarters and cycle meals. Days in many areas of Traytos were referred to as cycles and though few non-technologists that referred to days as the word “days” they are treated with scorn, prejudice and racial ignorance. The duties of a clockwork engineer’s apprentice was a brutal job. Though the job itself was easy and extremely boring, the master engineer’s neglect was the result of many deaths of young enthusiastic apprentices.

Master Dorian, was just one of many dwarves that had a terrible habit of having strong drink as priority one rather than cleaning up the scraps of a masterpiece. He is a master of his craft and is one of the more noteworthy steam crafters. But I have always dreamed of being a knight of this realm. To fight for justice and valour and to right wrongs of the world. Too bad for me, I won’t be able to able to become one because of a law of this sector. “Halflings are forbidden to be knights”.

“Torro, stop yer day dreamin’ an’ get yer ‘hic’ arse back to work” Said Dorian in a drunken stupor. “ye ‘hic’ waach’ da shop I gotta pic kup sum lubricant, I’ll bi baak ‘hic’ lat’r ” Said Dorian red faced drunk as he stumbles out the door. Torbiro glances down to where he last restock the shops’ supply of lubricant and found cases and cases of them. He sighs with thoughts of relief and feelings of sadness that his master has yet again dumped all the remanding work on him.

Many clicks and turns passed while fixing and re-gearing clocks, locks, music boxes and other intricate devices. A man, a human man bursts in the shop. He wore a ratty old cloak, it was brown and covered in muddy patches at the bottom edges of the garment. He wore leather armour under his cloak but it look like the sort anyone could buy if they wished to go adventuring. He held no kind of weapon but it seemed as though he could have been some sort of swordsman, from his form, stance and stature. He looked desperate and distressed as his eyes darted left and right as though searching for something. “How can I be of assistance to you” Said Torbiro in a very kind and welcoming way.

The man responses with “keep it safe…”, then drops a sack on the shop counter and rushes back outside. “Sir, you forgot your sack” Said Torbiro as he grabs the sack and chases after him. As he exits the shop, he notices that the man had collapsed a good two or so metres away from the shop. He quickly approaches the man, so as to return the sack to him. As he gets closer to the collapsed man Torbiro notices blood stains on the ground small drops of blood and then as he reaches the man, he realises that the man is dead. Merchants of that sector were not of any help as they placed no trust in the likes of halflings.

Being as honest as a young man trying to be a knight can be, he drags the man’s corpse to the back of the shops’ scrap yard. He searched the man’s belongings and found a bloodstained crest. The crest of a sprocket and a key. He also found a strange weapon concealed underneath his clothing. It was a sort of dagger I had never seen before and it had been the cause of his demise.

I naturally pocketed the strange item as well as the crest, so as I could inform the guards of what happened. I knew that leaving a corpse in my master’s yard would get me fired so I moved him to an empty crate and dragged it to a common alleyway. This took me hours and by the time I finished I was sore all over.

It was late, but I knew I should at the very least tell one of the local militia about the incident. I went to the guard post at the edge of the sector and explained what happened. The guards on duty just laughed and shooed me anyway. I tried to tell them again but this time they threatened me with their muskets. I ran for fear of my life and as I turned a corner I crashed into someone.

“hey, what was that for?” Said the girl. I got up and apologised and started to run again but she stopped me. “oh, it’s just you Torro, what’s wrong?” said the girl. At the mention of my nickname, I look up to see that it was Myra. I tell her the situation that a man was killed in front of the shop and she too laughed. I waited for her to stop and told her that I was not joking and she should come see for herself.

I took her to the place where I left the body in a crate, somewhere only halflings could enter, under a pile of garbage to hide it from salvagers and scavengers prying hands. When we got there, I showed her the body to show her the truth. She had disbelief written all over her face until she saw the body. Myra at that instance was felled by shock and fainted. I brought her back to the shop where I found my master speaking to some important looking officials.

“Torbiro, wh’re hav’ ye been? When I got back the shop was closed and I had to break down the door to get back in?” Said Dorian shouting at Torbiro for breaking down the door as he had forgot his key. He complained to his apprentice that if the shop was closed, business would suffer and therefore his payment would be less. Torbiro explained the situation and Dorian laughed at the poor excuse. The officials on the other hand questioned the little halfling about the man. What the man wanted and the whereabouts of his body. I told them the truth and the showed them the hiding place.

Once I had answered all of their questions and showed them his corpse they shoved me aside like some piece of ill discarded scrap from the dismantler’s workshop. I left knowing that I did the right thing and went back to where I had left Myra.

She was sitting on my bed next to the rather large but broken clock hammer that nearly killed me this morning and said “Have they left?” I was confused to her question so I double checked and when I thought about her question again, I came back in the room flustered as though I was made fun of. “Who?” Said Torbiro. Questioning her joke. “The suspicious officials of the king who else” Said Myra with a quick reply. She told me that they were looking for something of importance when I had left to show them the location of the body. We talked it over and I told her that there was nothing else to be found from the body aside from the murder weapon and crest. She stopped me and stood up and walked with an arrogant strut before revealing a sack that I had forgotten.

“And what about this” Said Myra with smugness in her tone. I could not even reply to that face of hers’ and stayed silent. She dropped all of its contents and found a broken old music box and a letter. Myra grabbed the box and tried to forcefully open it. I instead looked at the letter.

“Yes” Said Torbiro as he yelled in surprise. “This is my chance to be a knight” Said Torbiro with great excitement in my voice. Myra on the other hand was startled by my sudden outburst and dropped the music box. It struck the floor and broke into several pieces. A round metal piece hit my foot and I looked down. I saw scraps of metal being scatter by the force and I yelled at her.

“What are you doing?” Said Torbiro in an angry and annoyed tone.

“Look it wasn’t my fault, you’re the one that broke it with your proclamation of knighthood!!” Said Myra flustered.

“I, um… you still dropped it. Now help me find all the pieces.” Said Torbiro, gathering the scattered pieces of the music box.

“Fine” Said Myra, helping out Torbiro.

After all the pieces were collected, I found a similar crest to the one I found on the dead man. The box seemed to be a disguise, to keep the item a secret. I wondered why but those questions could be answered later. The next day I took the letter to the castle to request to become a knight. They refused and got the shackles ready but when I showed them the letter and the crest they were dumb founded. They still arrested me and escorted me to the palace. The king was called to address the matter personally. He had a shocked face when checking the document in question and the notable crest. He yelled at the guards that apprehended me and told them to release me.

Once the shackles were off the king announced with the most fowl of looks that I would become a knight. Though it was only a provisional position I did not care. I was honoured by this opportunity and I promptly walked to my new station. The training was tough and the other warriors hated me but I persevered. Basic training took almost three watches – three years – but I managed to tough it out and prevail.

The king later announced that there would be a trial for all young knights to test their mettle. My commander told me that I was to be stationed in town to capture criminals in the market place, like some lowly guard. I took this mission very seriously as to not disappoint my liege and fellow knights but they all laughed at my attempt of being gallant. I ignored their insults and headed off to complete my mission. Unfortunately my first mission was to capture a rather well known thief by the name of Memyra.

Chapter 11 – My First Failure

A cloaked child living in the kingdom of Traytos runs and jumps and dashes quickly. This child hears merchants and workers curse at the annoyance of this creature as it crashes and hits obstacles as it gets further and further away. This child hears shouts and cries as she passes travellers and day-to-day people as she runs to a very common corner.

This corner is the typical corner of a building or of an alleyway or perhaps a small hideaway from the common folk. Removing the hood of its cloak, the child is that of a young girl. She catches her breathe for these moments are of great importance. Just a few more seconds and she will run again and this time she must get away for good.

After a moments rest, perhaps it was just too long of a moment as she hears shouts of “where is that thief…where did that thief go?” yells a man who looks around menacingly. This man was a typical watchman or guard depending on where you’re from but they all have one thing in common they hunt down and catch law-breakers. She then notices a crowd saying “…over there…over there, she went that way?” slowly this girl hiding in the shadows of a corner, takes a slight peek and finds that those people shouting are also pointing in her direction as well as to the location of her path. She looks around in a startling panic for an escape but from what she can see in that alley are two paths, into the alleyway or out in the streets.

Her choice at that moment was to run into the depths of the alleyway and get trap at the end or at the nearest opening and climb up the sides of the building walls and try to get away from the rooftops but only to be caught once she arrives at the top. Has she already forgotten her plan of escape as the adrenaline pulses through her tiny body and has decided to take a fools route. So she decides to run and hopes for the best. This change in her plan would get her ambushed by other guards further down this path. She did not and was not thinking until she is struck by a protruding steam pipe and knocking her down. “What in the name of the pulse was that?” Said the girl with the silent whisper in an already silent alleyway. She looks to where her path was abruptly stopped and saw an unusual looking pipe. Its shape was very different from normal steam pipes as they usually had an L-shape and would spit steam rather often. This pipe on the other hand had something about that was familiar to her and she quickly examined it with a slight touch.

She finds this pipe familiar as though it was part of her escape plan in the first place. This was the strange contraption that she bought from one of the dwarves selling pulleys and winches, by the lower marketplace.

With a simple pull of the device, it could provide the wielder with an accelerated lift, allowing one to mysteriously vanish from their pursuers. She quickly tried to remember how this contraption was supposed to work but around the corner she heard the guards coming closer and closer, as their steps slouched on the wet cobblestones.

She was force to hurry, trying to find the lever to work the machine and the rope she would hang on but alas she was in a panicked state and therefore was caught. “So this is where ye’ve been hidin’” Said the guard as he gasps for breath. “Now drop all dat ye’ve stolen and come peaceful like ye know the penalty for stealing” Said the guard demanding justice and not one for the workout of chasing speedy thieves. The girl continues to work the device and finds that the rope and pulley is tout enough to hold her escape. “Well good sir, I believe you have me red handed and trapped but I must say fare-thee-well” and as she makes her sly remark she pulls the lever and is shot to the sky so quickly that the guard is astonished, this was not his day, he looked around frantically but found no trace of the thief. Was it magic, perhaps?

As the girl reaches the roof of the adjoined building, the rigging had held on to the pipe-like container which had held her loot, had also travelled up with the young thief. She hears the guard cursing down below, and the footsteps of the other watchmen as they arrive much too late, to have witnessed the scene. The thief breathes easy and checks for all the loot she had acquired during her morning run. A small bag hidden away inside the pipe like container was filled with only a few things. A loaf of bread, a length of copper wire, a broken dagger and a small jewel with a white lustre. She had the bread but only a few pieces before she heard a commanding voice up on the rooftops.

“Hmmm, it seems I’ve caught yet another apprentice thief…” Said a man in heavy bright armour.

“Um, who are you? You haven’t caught me yet!!” Said the thief, in a panic as she tries to hide her loot.

“Oh, but I have. You have no place left to run or hide that makes you caught… didn’t your master ever teach you the basics of thievery” Said the man in the shiny armour.

“I have no master of which you speak, only a …” Said the young thief trying to think of the right word to say that does not reveal her masters name or an association with her. “Only a companion of sorts, you might even say a guide to this large city to which I should tour.” Said the young thief quickly ending her sentence not to add suspicion.

“Well then, let Myra I said hello when she frees you from your jail cell in the dungeon.” Said the warrior as he explains that criminals will pay.

“But Torro, why not say it now while I’m here… for old times’ sake” says a cloaked figure just behind an exhaust vent.

“That’s Torbiro, Sir Torbiro to you Myra” Said the Torbiro, proudly stating who he is. “Thief child I advise you not to follow the corrupted occupation of halflings and start over.” Said Torbiro, with the deepest voice he could muster, putting an act of confidence.

The warrior in bright heavy armour appears more like a child in an iron suit then a warrior of the watch. He speaks with a bit of a high strung tone as if hiding the fact that he too is a halfling. The voice coming from the vents just over to the opposite side of where she hid sounded very much like her master Memyra.

A few minutes of looking at the self-proclaimed knight and it is very obvious that he is in fact a halfling. He might wear the armour of a knight of Traytos, with the insignia of the gear and the shape of the screw, but there was something else about it was magnificent. The other knights or soldiers were not as sheen as this one. His chest plate was shiny, with brilliance only the clerics of the void could ever possess or obtain and the condition of the steel was unlike anything made by a smith but of an artisan. His gauntlets and greaves were so well maintained that this knight must have taken days of care to possess such radiance in the reflecting light. And of course his boots… what I saw were just feet. Feet with fur or maybe it was hair.

She looked down to her own grubby little toes and saw a similar sight. This knight was truly a halfling like herself but different. Moments later the knight named Torbiro approached the young halfling girl and said once again “Like I said before I have you caught so stand up.” Her master an acquaintance of this knight, dashed forward and for some reason or another both of thieves were up and away from the knight and her master said “hey, Torro see you in the usual place to settle this… bring as many of your knightly goons with you if you can”

The words of her master were calm and collected as if they were meant to taunt or tease this knight. A name could be heard from such a tiny creature that is a halfling “Myyyyyyrrrrrraaaaaaaa…” This town or city or sector of Rippel is known as Traytos. It is where I live a knight and a man of honour and justice. This sector is filled with all sorts of characters and peoples. Shops and guilds of many kinds exist here in Traytos. We are a sector of advancement and science but some do not oppose the ways of the arcane and mystics, for where business exists there are those that practice the forbidden or lawless acts.

Chapter 12 – Myra the thief

A figure staying silent in the shadows paces forward and backward as if waiting for someone, impatiently. This figure appears to be clad in rather light attire geared up for quick escapes. She prepares her instant escape device and waits some more. In the distance she hears a familiar voice narrating some foolish thief. She peers out from her hiding place and sees Torro her childhood friend who had left for knighthood, and had forgotten to resign from his job. He had been gone for three watches ago after they had found an important letter detailing information about Bataros’ plans to attack Traytos.

She hadn’t seen him in such a long time that she wished to greet him in the usual joking manner. Myra also notices that he now wears the crest of the kingdom as well as the crest of the sprocket and key. He seemed not to notice her at all as though he had forgotten what she had taught him about “being aware of your surroundings” she felt sort of superior that she had kept her racial pride in her abilities to be a halfling.

“Where in the pulse is she?” Said Myra as she mumbles silently, disgruntled at being kept waiting at the appointed location.

At the moment she says those words her apprentice appears but is confronted by Torro. Being caught by the likes of Torro was funny in at of itself and she couldn’t help but watch her apprentice being lectured by a poor excuse of a warrior. She waited for the signal before helping but it seemed the young thief had forgotten everything she had been taught, so Myra equipped the instant escape device that was much like a jet pack that was steam powered and jettisoned into the air upon activating it. The acceleration of the device was so powerfully that Myra had to run and grab her apprentice as quickly and possible before turn the device on.