The Tale of Gaven Morren: The First Night - into the Dark (Part 1)

I loathe courtrooms. The magistrate is booming on. I think he wants to be impressive. I'm not impressed. I am tired, hunger, and in chains.

"Gaven Morren, late of Calisapas, you have been condemned by Miirian law of the following crimes..." I don't listen. I've heard this all.

Forced entry...Theft of Noble House property...Coercion of Miirian Natives Into Illegal Acts...and, finally, Attempted Murder.

That last is utter dragon dung. I didn't try to kill anyone, though my partner sorely tempted me. What thief carries a lit candle on a job?

When I blew it out, you'd think I HAD stabbed him by the way he screamed. Why are Miirians so afraid of the dark, anyway?

I've been here for less than a week, and I've never seen a city this large shut down so fast after sunset.

Even the City Watch doesn't venture out past the curfew, a few hours after nightfall. It's as if the city is begging to be picked clean.

But the job wasn't a one-person affair. Tackling the big noble houses of the city takes planning. And a patsy. I found out which I was.

Uh-oh. The magistrate is looking at me. "Gaven Morren, You have the choice between Fine of 2,000 Umbras, Indentured Servitude for Two Years, and Exile. Choose now."

Heh. Pay an exorbitant fee? Slave to death in a mine? Or run around the city for a week, at night, with no supervision? "I choose Exile."

"Very well. From midnight to sunrise you will be stripped of all arms, armor, and light, and given to the tender mercies of The Shadows."

"During the day, if you survive, you will be locked within the Tower of Miir. This sentence will continue for the term of one week."

The Shadows. How dramatic. I try to look properly frightened of this sentence, as everyone else in the courtroom apparently is, but I fail.

A few hours pass. I stare at the walls of my cell, trying not to smile at my fortune. A whole week to plunder unhindered! What dupes!

Still, I'm vaguely worried. This may be some sort of elaborate trap. The nobles of Miir have a vicious reputation, and this doesn't fit.

this "Exile" could be an elaborate trap, designed to make troublemakers simply "vanish" under a pretext of justice. I've seen it happen.

The guards arrive. They seem nervous about something. One of them is looking over his shoulder every couple of seconds. Both have candles.

"Well, off I go into the great, scary night!" I quip as they lead me out into the street. The guards do not seem amused at my joke.

"Were it me, I'd have chosen the mines." the one on my right grunts. "At least there, a man has a chance at life again."

"Oh, come on." I say. "You can't really mean that. Shadows, demons...you're rational people. You can't really believe in this rot."

The guard on my left hisses at me. "Don't tempt them, fool!" The other shushes him, then turns back to me. "I know only what I've seen."

"The last Exile was found dead in an alley. He'd covered the walls around him with strange ravings. He had no eyes...they'd been torn out."

Wonderful image. I don't believe them, but there's an unpleasant chill running up my spine regardless. "Surely it can't be THAT bad."

"Tell you what." The guard on my right spoke again. "If I see you when the sun rises over the Pen, I'll personally sneak you out of town."

That's awfully generous. "What's the catch?" I ask. "No catch, sir. Come morning, you're a free man, as long as you quit Miir forever."

"It's only a week. I think I can handle a bit of darkness." I say. "You'd be the first." he replies.

We pass the Bastion wall, and I am thrown through the gates. They close with an ominous boom, and the night closes around me.

Suddenly, I'm not feeling so good about this.

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