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Garth leaned against the stone wall of a Cliffside alley, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The city had changed since the Empire's fall - more whores on the streets, more desperation in the air. Just how he liked it.
A woman's voice cut through his peaceful moment. "What do you mean I have no money?"
Garth's ears perked up at the sound of frustration in her voice. He peered around the corner, spotting a young woman in black underwear. His eyes roamed over her pale skin, taking in her athletic build and the way her bra hugged her breasts.
"Damn it Barry." she complained, snapping a book shut. "Some guide you are."
A guidebook. Garth's lips curled into a smile. Another sorcerer, fresh and lost in Cliffside. And this one was particularly appealing – young, attractive, and clearly without resources. Just the way he liked them.
He straightened his armour and ran a hand over his balding head before stepping out of the shadows. "Excuse me, miss. Couldn't help but overhear you're having some troubles?"
The woman startled, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest. Her raven hair fell across her face as she took a defensive step backward. "I'm fine."
"Now, now." Garth said, keeping his distance and adopting his most professional guard captain voice. "A lady in her unmentionables, alone in Cliffside? That's not safe at all." He tapped the insignia on his armour. "I'm the guard captain. Name's Garth." Technically, Garth was the former guard captain, but best not to let her know that. Newest update provıded by 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝙣𝙚𝙩
She hesitated, eyes darting between his face and the insignia. "Myst." she finally offered.
"Well, Myst, Cliffside can be dangerous for newcomers. Especially since the Empire fell." He gestured to the busy street beyond the alley. "Slavers, thieves, all sorts of unsavoury types about. I'd hate to see something happen to a lovely young lady such as yourself."
Myst's shoulders relaxed slightly, though suspicion still lingered in her eyes. "And you're what, offering to help out of the kindness of your heart?"
Garth chuckled. "Let's say I have a soft spot for sorcerers in need. I've helped quite a few find their footing in our fair city." He kept his expression neutral, professional, while his mind wandered to all the ways he'd make her pay for his "help" later.
"I..." Myst glanced down at her state of undress, then back at her guidebook. "I could use some clothes. And maybe some information about where I am."
"I can help with both." Garth said, shrugging off his cape and offering it to her. "There's an inn nearby where we can talk safely. I'll even treat you to a meal – you look like you could use one."
Myst wrapped the cape around herself, and Garth caught a glimpse of a purple mark just above her panty line before it was covered. She was definitely a sorcerer alright. Oh, this was getting better and better.
"Thank you." she said, clutching the cape tight. "I appreciate it."
"Think nothing of it." Garth gestured for her to follow, already planning how this would play out. "It's this way. Watch your step – the cobblestones can be treacherous."
As they walked, he kept his demeanour professional, asking appropriate questions about her arrival and offering sympathetic nods at her confusion. But inside, his blood was racing. He hadn't had a proper bedwarmer since Saikhi, and this one, this one would be special.
The Garth smiled to himself as he led her through the streets of Cliffside. Sometimes the best hunts were the ones where the prey walked right into your hands.
The Lazy Cren Inn wasn't the fanciest establishment in Cliffside, but it served Garth's purposes. Located in a quieter part of the docks district, it had seen better days, much like its current clientele.
"It's not the Royal Plaza," Garth said, leading Myst up the creaking stairs, "but it's safe enough. My room's just up here."
Myst followed, still wrapped in his cape, her bare feet careful on the worn wooden steps. "You live at an inn?"
"Temporary arrangement." Garth unlocked his door, gesturing for her to enter. "Recent changes in the city's leadership have led to some adjustments in my living situation."
The room was modest but tidy, with a single bed, a wooden chest, and a small table near the window. Garth made a show of rummaging through the chest while Myst stood awkwardly by the door.
"Ah, here we are." He pulled out a bundle of fabric. "It's not much, but it should fit. One of the merchants left it behind, she owed me a favour but skipped town before paying up."
He held up what appeared to be a dress, if one was being generous with the term. The fabric was a deep green that would complement her pale skin, but it was cut in a way that would leave little to the imagination. The neckline plunged deep, and slits ran up both sides of the skirt.
"This is..." Myst held the garment up, frowning. "Rather revealing."
"Beggars can't be choosers, my dear." Garth shrugged apologetically. "Unless you'd prefer to continue wandering Cliffside in your undergarments?"
Myst's cheeks flushed. "No, I... thank you. Could you...?" She gestured for him to turn around.
"Of course, of course." Garth turned to face the window, listening to the rustle of fabric behind him. "You know, I've helped quite a few lost souls find their way in Cliffside. The city can be overwhelming at first, but once you know the right people."
"It fits." Myst interrupted, though her tone suggested 'fits' was a generous description. "You can turn around now."
Garth turned, keeping his expression neutral despite his satisfaction. The dress clung to her curves like a second skin, the neckline revealing a generous amount of cleavage. The slits in the skirt rose to her hips, showing flashes of her black panties when she moved.
"Well," he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "it's not perfect, but it'll do for now. Once we get you settled, we can look into something more suitable."
Myst tugged futilely at the neckline. "And how exactly do you plan to help me get settled?"
"I have connections throughout the city." Garth sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her to take the room's only chair. "Merchants who need inventory tracked, nobles who need letters written, simple work that pays well enough. And more importantly, work that won't draw unwanted attention to your special talents." Garth pointed knowingly at her sorcerer mark's location.
She sat carefully, trying to arrange the dress in a way that preserved some modesty. "You seem to know a lot about helping sorcerers."
"Let's just say I've had experience." Garth leaned forward, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "The Empire might be gone, but sorcerers are still hated by most people in Adearath. Best to lay low, earn some coin, and figure out your next move."
Through the window, the sun was starting to rise, painting the room in orange light. Garth watched it play across Myst's exposed skin, anticipation building in his chest.
"Now then," he said, standing up. "Let's get you something to eat, and we can discuss the details of your new employment."
Myst stood, still awkward in the revealing dress. "Thank you, Captain Garth. I don't know what I would have done without your help."
"Think nothing of it." Garth opened the door, gesturing for her to go first. "After all, what kind of man would I be if I left a damsel in distress?"
As he followed her down the stairs, watching the dress shift and slide with each step, Garth allowed himself a small smile. Everything was falling into place perfectly.