The Orb in the Sword: Chapter 2	Copyright 1998,
	-------------------------------	By Ben Christie.
					All Rights Reserved.

	Miayt City was a vast metropolis, populated by over
five million people, and consisted of three main rings. The
outer ring, or the Grand Market, made up the greatest
percentage of the venders stands and booths. It was closed
to the public during the night hours. The inner ring housed
the remaining percent of the merchants, most of which sold
high priced goods, away from the easy thievery that could
be done in the Grand Market. The inner ring was known
also as the Ring of Gold for the great number of jewelry
stands. Also housed there were the taverns and inns along
with a few lower class homes. The center ring made up the
inner most part of Miayt City. It consisted of the vast
majority of houses and residential buildings. Many towers
surged upwards and if one stood atop them they would be
able to clearly see the peaks of the southern cliffs. The
center ring was build around the king's majestic palace, it's
towers the tallest in the land, each capped with gold. Few
citizens were privileged enough to enter the palace and the
king was seldom seen outside of it.
	Tonight was a usual night in the city. The sun was
setting over the southern Cliffs of Cavenmore and the bright
colours of the city had turned to shades of purple and blue.
The inns were filled to the brim with travelers from distant
lands and the taverns were filled with the usual drunks and
occasional new faces. One such face was Graykit. Seated on
one of the many stood at the Four Fingers Bar and Inn. The
interior smelt of stale alcohol. Few tables were empty and
those that were, were likely to have a present left behind
from the previous occupant. The bar curved around the
back wall, which was covered by shelves of hard liquor and
next to the bar were stairs running to the second and third
floors. Graykit wasn't drinking, though he had bought a beer
to satisfy the bartenders one drink minimum rule. The bar's
owner, contrary to what the sign outside read, possessed all
his fingers. He was never found serving the alcohol. A squat
faced, portly, little feline, he spent most of him time in the
back booth. Most people knew him as Gold Fingers because
of his love for gold rings, but his real name was Allarc
Segmand. Next to Graykit sat one of several drunks. The
feline's clothes were stained and he had passed out an hour
ago, still gripping his empty mug. On the opposite side of
Graykit the stood was empty and covered with what looked
to be vomit, but could very well have been moldy beer.
	Graykit yawned as he watched the bar's patrons
drink down their poison. He looked over at the hourglass
behind the bar. It's sand had almost emptied into the lower
half. It was time for him to leave. He jumped down from the
stood, flipped a gold onto the bar and made way for the
door.
	The outside air was cool and refreshing as oppose to
the musty, dank air of the bar. A few people still traveled
the streets, but soon the sun would be gone and the thieves
and vagrants would be the only remaining people. The brick
pathway was cold against Graykit's paws. He didn't feel
comfortable walking the inner streets so close to dark. The
buildings were closely built leaving the roads cramped and
hardly bigger them the alleyways. Graykit moved fast
through them, his hand gripped at all times around the new
dagger he had gotten from camp. He turned round the sharp
corner and into one of the courts. It was bare of life save a
bagger curled up on the floor with a small bowl placed in
front of him. Windows overlooked the court and two doors
built into the walls, both closed and presumably barred.
Signs hung over top of them one reading 'Weapons' the
other 'Apothecary'. A small fountain trickled in the center.
Graykit could smell a smoke coming from one of the
windows and the sent of fresh bread. He spent little time in
the court taking in the vivid smells and moved on down the
southern corridor. Soon he emerged out of the inner ring
and into the Grand Market. The ring was void of the
retailers and merchants that had taken up booths and stands
during the day and all the crowds had vanished long ago,
settled in their homes and the local inns. Bits of trash
littered the brick floor, blown about by the cool night
breeze. The city had fallen silent, the sound of bustling
crowds no more, but ready to return tomorrow.
	He looked around for the old fox he had talked with
ealoer, but wouldn't have been surprised if he didn't show
up. Graykit knew he couldn't stick around for long as the
guards patrolled the city at night and kept people out of the
Grand Market. He decided to keep moving. The hound
might be waiting for him in another part of the market.
	After a few minutes, Graykit was about to give up
on the old fox and head back to camp outside the city, when
a raspy voice called to him from the alley. Graykit turned,
hand at his dagger. From the shadows of the alley, a figure
came forth and drew back his cloak removing a
broadsword, the hilt ending with a black orb. Graykit
reached for the sword, but the fox pulled it away from the
greedy hands.
	"Show me the money first," the dog said.
	Graykit unhooked his pouch. "How much?"
	"One hundred and thirty gold coins should suffice."
	"One hundred and thirty?!" Graykit replied,
outraged by the steep price. "Are you crazy, old fox? That
sword is dented to high heaven and I can see the rust on it
even during the night. It's probably as old as you. I'll not pay
more then seventy golds."
	The fox frowned. "I don't think you know what kind
of sword you're dealing with here. Trust an old fox's
wisdom that this is unlike any sword you've seen before."
	"One hundred. I have no more then that."
	Placing the sword under his cloak, the old fox
turned away. "Maybe some other time then."
	"Fine, old one. One hundred and thirty it is."
	The fox smiled as he took the money from Graykit's
paw. "Thank you, young one. It was a pleasure doing
business with you."
	Graykit smiled too holding the mighty broadsword
in his hand. The black orb seemed to glow strangely in the
dark.
	"Maybe I'll see you around and we can do business
again," the fox said, sinking back into the shadows.
	"I doubt that," Graykit replied.
	"Maybe," he said from the darkness.
	Graykit held the sword a moment longer, then slide it 
under his belt. Backing up to city's outer wall, he looked 
both ways before climbing atop the stack of barrels and leaping 
out of the city. He hit the ground softly and quickly scurried 
off towards his camp, the orb still glowing strangely at his 
side.