Fayette eyed the two dirty men blocking her path with a frown on her face. She didn’t feel cowed—the kobolds had been much more fearsome than these two. Still, she was irritated that such folk could run amok in the streets.
It’s not proper at all that the streets are infested like this! Why, if a [Maid] let rats run about like they owned the manor, she would be dismissed before the sun was out! Who is in charge of public order here?
She glanced to her side and saw that Mireille was also in a guarded pose, with her left hand concealing a needle and thread and right hand in a pocket. They locked eyes briefly, and Fayette nodded to her. Mireille nodded back. They were both ready.
The men meanwhile were getting frustrated at their silence. The man with the hat had been holding a club at his shoulder, but now he brought it out to his front. He narrowed his eyes, and spoke with a husky, slimy voice. “Hey, what’s the hold up ladies? Come along now.”
Fayette looked at him dismissively. She had seen proper fighter classes in action, and this man’s pose was far from what she had seen them display. This was just a thug—not a [Thug]. Fayette decided to dub the man with the top hat as hat-man and the man with the shiny bald head egg-man.
She did not intend on allowing them to ready up, so she acted fast. She felt at the broom in her [Apron of Holding] and pulled it out in one smooth motion. She let the momentum carry the broom into an overhead strike, aimed right at hat-man.
He only had a split second to react, but managed to pull the club in front for a block. The impact sent him stumbling backwards, wide-eyed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He sputtered.
Fayette was not the only one acting. Mireille pulled her right hand out her pocket in a flash, throwing a cloud of something red at egg-man. “[Pocket Spice Attack]!”
The powder covered his face in red, and he stumbled back, clutching at his eyes.
Meanwhile, Fayette let her broom strike continue down behind her, hitting the street, and started channeling [Sweep Dust]. The past days had been hot and dry, leaving the streets coated with a blanket of loose dust. It made for good ammo. Fayette’s broom gathered the dust into a swirling vortex, and she readied herself for a decisive thrust.
Hat-man looked at Fayette’s broom and his eyes flashed with doubt for the first time. “Hey, wait—”
Fayette did not.
She thrust her broom out, and the cloud of dust was sent right into the man’s face, blinding him. Having secured a moment to breathe, Fayette checked that Mireille was handling the other man fine, and she seemed to be. A thread was linking her right hand to the man’s clothes, which seemed to be constricting his movements while the man struggled against them. Fayette focused back to her own quarry. Alright, she seems to be fine so far, but it’s safest if I finish this quick.
Hat-man was stumbling around blindly as his eyes watered, unable to manage any guard at all. Fayette took it as an invitation. She steadied her footing with [Maid’s Poise] and twirled her broom around in her hand, readying the tail-end for a strike. She pulled it back above her head, then brought it down, slamming the broom right at the man’s head with all her force.
The hat crumpled under her blow, and she felt a satisfying crunch as her broom hit the man’s head. He crumpled down onto the ground, limp and unmoving.
Now, Fayette was nothing if not thorough, so she did not leave it there—no. She hammered at the man’s head with her broom, and then also stomped on it a few times for good measure. She smiled. Good, didn’t even get much blood on me this time, I’m getting better at this.
Suddenly, she heard the other man scream out, and Fayette flicked her gaze over. Mireille seemed to be trying to stitch the man’s left arm to his torso, but her thread was not strong enough. The pain sent the man into a rage, and he ripped right through the shirt that had been constricting him. His enraged shout was a guttural, primal thing. It sent shivers down Fayette’s spine.
Mireille flinched back as the man suddenly rushed at her, and Fayette acted. She stepped forward, bringing her broom down on the man’s shiny, bald head. Seeing the man threatening her friend gave extra strength to her blow, and the strike hit home. The man’s expression turned blank, and he too fell to the ground, crumpling down like a sack of flour.
Fayette smiled and moved to hit the man a few more times. It rather reminded her of cracking open an egg. Mireille watched the [Maid] with her eyes wide, and eventually managed to force out some word.
“F-Fayette. I-I think you’ve killed him.”
[Two pieces of trash cleared, well done!]
[Progress towards next level: 35%]
Fayette stopped her broom mid-strike, and brought it down to the ground instead. She leaned on it and inspected her work. “You’re right, I just got the notification. It’s harder to tell with these. Kobolds just go splat, while he still stays like that. I don’t think I even see much blood.”
“Fayette, you’ve killed him.”
Fayette turned her head, confused. “Well, yes. Of course I did.”
Mireille was still staring at the man. Her voice was a hiss, with an edge to it. “Fayette, they’re dead!”
The [Maid] raised an eyebrow. “Is that... bad?”
Mireille took a deep breath, and finally turned to look at her friend. “Fayette... It’s just—” She shook her head, then grabbed Fayette’s hand. “We need to leave. Come, let’s go. Quick.”
She started pulling the [Maid] with her along the streets, almost running. She peered nervously at the nearby windows, looking for anyone who might have been watching.
Fayette was feeling confused. “What’s the issue here? Of course I killed him. A [Maid] can’t let rats just run off, can she? You have to be thorough with these things or they’ll spread! Aren’t street rats the same?”
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Mireille shook her head. “Fay, it’s not... It would be bad if we were connected to these bodies. Put that broom away, there’s blood on it.”
Fayette slowly nodded, then slid the broom back into her [Apron of Holding]. “Why would it be bad? They attacked us, right?”
“It’s just... Alright, Fayette, imagine you are on a trip to a manor with your liege, there’s some party going on or something of the sort, and your liege is there as a guest.”
Fayette nodded. “I’m following so far—I’ve been an attendant a few times.”
“So, if you see skittering rats in there, is it alright to handle them yourself?”
Fayette thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, it would be very rude to the [Maids] of that place. At most, you could inform them discreetly about what you found.”
“So, if you just went and started clearing out rats on another [Maid’s] territory, they wouldn’t be happy, right?”
Fayette started nodding, then paused. She stared aimlessly as she thought, then turned to Mireille. “You can’t be saying its similar to this situation, right? They attacked us! It was self defence!”
"Ok, it's not a perfect analogy! Sorry I can't make perfect [Maid] analogies for everything Fay! I'm a [Seamstress], not a [Maid]!"
"Hey, calm down there—I don't think you want to be shouting."
Mireille took a few deep breaths, then sighed as she turned a corner on the streets. “Sorry, you're right. In a way you could be correct, it was self defence. Things might be cleared out officially. Eventually.”
She turned to Fayette. “But there would be questions, and things could become very complicated. We’re strangers here, Fayette. Those men might have been part of a gang or something—they might have family and friends. People who care. If word gets out, those people might come looking for us.”
Fayette pulled her hand out of the [Seamstress’s] grip and frowned. “What should I have done then?”
“Just scaring them off would have probably been fine. If we show we’re not to be messed with, people should steer clear. Those didn’t seem to be the determined type.”
“Are you sure about that? Your guy came at you swinging.”
Mireille flushed and turned away. “Well, yeah. I handled that a bit poorly. I saw that you had knocked your guy out, so I tried to restrain him. Only, messing with his clothes wasn’t quite enough. I didn’t expect a few stitches to set him off like that. I got too into it.”
“Too into it? That’s one way to put it.”
“Look, I was just curious on how it would work, ok? Won’t exactly find live target practice too often.”
“You’re still thinking about taking the hunter path? I think you did well in that fight there. You could have potential.”
Mireille clicked her tongue. “Well, maybe I’ll consider it as an option, ok? I did actually get good experience for my class from that. Probably because of the danger? I didn’t even do that much needlework. Though, I’m not locking in anything. This city, it doesn’t feel too good, but I still want to check out how work here could be. I won’t count anything out just yet.”
Fayette sped up her pace until she was right by Mireille's side and looked at her with a smug smile. “Just be honest and say you can't bear to leave your dependable big-sis.”
“Dependable? You’re the one who got us lost in these slums! I should be the one worried for you going out alone.”
“I handled those two well and good, didn’t I?”
“Look, let’s just find a place to rest and get some sleep. I really was not expecting to end up in deadly combat today.”
“Ah, fine.”
The two walked in companionable silence for a bit as they got back to the more populated streets, and soon they were again walking among the red-brick buildings. Fayette was thinking back on the fight and trying to figure how she could have handled it better. Then, she suddenly remembered a curious detail.
“By the way, what were those spices you threw? Mine have been missing for a while...”
Mireille’s silence was answer enough.
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