#orphea-ourobora

Sticks & Strings was a small shop which peeked out onto one of the side streets of Myrefall from between two much larger residential buildings, and it was Thalra’s last stop before heading back to her building for the evening. The sun was already casting its red and orange rays over the tops of the city’s skyline and it was growing late enough that most commerce would be closing for the evening in a matter of an hour or two. Thalra had already done her shopping for the day, with everything neatly tucked away in her satchel, but she’d stopped in when she’d seen a small toy drum set in the window as she was passing. Detka had been with her for a while now, and she had her own instruments, but maybe he’d be interested in picking something up on his own?

The older human gentleman behind the counter looked as if he was mere moments from dozing off at his post, but Thalra didn’t mind, and much preferred not to be heckled as she browsed. There was one other person also in the shop, but she didn’t pay them much mind as she brushed her fingers over the tightly wound strings of a harp in the corner.

Her attention was only half-caught as the door opened with a small chime of bells—another customer she thought, strange that this place was so busy at this point in the evening. But then there was the unmistakable sound of something heavy hitting the ground and wood splintering. Thalra spun around, leaning around a shelf to see a man dressed like a mercenary stood at the front of shop with an entire display crushed to pieces around him and books of sheet music laying open in tumultuous piles on the ground.  The older gentleman, woken from his dozing by the commotion, yelped and started to get up from his stool.

“Oh, how clumsy of me,” said the man who’d just entered, and Thalra noted that most of his clothes looks as if he’d cobbled together the outfit at random. She suspected that meant most of what he was wearing was stolen. He leaned down and picked up a leaflet of sheet music and examined it for a moment in mock curiosity before tearing it down the middle. “But I’m sure you can afford to replace all this, right? You must have a lot saved up since you’ve been skipping out on paying rent.”

Thalra stayed where she was, watching the scene unfold further and wondering what her next move was. If she went for the door, the thug would see her and probably quickly involve her, but if she stayed, she’d likely get herself involved anyway. Her choices seemed very slim at the moment.

The shop owner though, to his credit, didn’t seem all that perturbed by the current events. He slammed his hand down flat on the table and glared at the other man. “We don’t owe you diddly, young man. This shop’s been in my family for generations. We own it, which means all we have to pay is taxes. Now you go on and scoot out of my shop. You’re disturbing my customers.”

Thalra quickly ducked back around the shelf at that comment, trying to stay hidden for as long as possible. She didn’t know if the man noticed her, but it didn’t seem to matter. She heard him mutter, “Oh, you have no idea how disturbing things are about to get.” Then he shouted, “Boys, come on in! Looks like we have to teach Mr. Bronet some manners.” The bell chimed again, and there were the sound of several more people entering the shop.