‘I need to get out of this crowd,’ he thought.
The assassin cut diagonally across the crowd toward the southern eaves of Karus Forest. Karus Forest stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was the largest and most untamed wood of all Doljinaar.
He heard a few women whispering about him. He thought he saw several conversing with a few guards, point his direction. Shade moved as fast as the crowds allowed, but he was drawing even more looks. He was trapped on the open fields of Kurn. His stomach twisted into a sick knot. He saw even more guards at the intersection up ahead where the South Forest Road T-ed off.
Shade could see even more lines of peoples heading into Kurn from the far north, though they looked like shadows from this distance. He recognized the proud, stout shapes of Centaur, the short, sturdy Dwarves who were followed by the huge lumbering forms of Gorums bearing all manner of goods for their squat masters. He could not make out their faces, but he knew even rarer northerners such as Derves and Mayahoon Indians would be heading into the city. Seemingly endless armadas of merchant ships sailed into the vast harbor. He saw Doljinaarian war galleys, Vespuvian transport ships, golden Elvish Sunships and simple wood fishing boats.
A fat beardless Dwarman about Shade’s height bumped into the Dark Elf, smelling strongly of brandy.
“I beg your par—” he trailed off, unable to finish. Instead, the half-breed’s eyes penetrated the darkness of the Dark Elf’s hood.
Shade grimaced. He turned on his heel and hurried through the crowd, leaving the Dwarman staring slack-jawed. He heard several guards shouting behind him, alerting the guards standing between him and the forest. He glanced behind him and saw six guards fighting their way through the crowds. The women stood off gossiping and pointing at the hooded assassin.
“Hey! You there!” a guard shouted.
The crowds parted around him, recognizing he had caught the attention of the local guards. Shade could feel the perspiration trickling down his face. The facial cream was peeling away. His face burned with agitation. He wanted to rub the cream off his face madly. He kept cutting and cutting through the endless mobs, but Karus Forest might as well have laid ten leagues away. Tents, booths and stalls crowded the fields, so great was the overflow from the inner marketplaces. Gypsies danced with tambourines. Acrobats performed feats of extraordinary nimbleness and daring causing additional traffic jams in the packed fields.
Shade had nearly reached the forest edge when a guard stepped in front of him. “We said stop!” the stern faced Doljinn shouted, “You can’t be here!”
The Dark Elf’s blood ran cold. He saw ten other guards closing in on his position. The Doljinn stood between him and the forest.
Shade’s hand closed around his dagger. He would have to stab the man and slip into the forest’s embrace. He would be pursued, but he had no other choice. He allowed the Dolijnn to march right up to him.
The man held a pike, but did not raise it against the assassin. He stopped right in front of him scowling and cringing.
Shade hesitated.
A clumsy Valsharen lout shouldering a barrel bumped the assassin from behind.
The Dark Elf stumbled forward. He recaptured his footing, but his hood fell back. His bare cheeks broke out into goose bumps. He stood completely exposed in a crowd of humans. People gasped. His hands closed around his daggers. He was about to draw blades when the Doljinn winced in revulsion.
The Doljinn looked away and raised his tower shield. “What’s wrong with your face, Elf? I thought those were leper’s cloaks.”
Shade stared at the man in shock and disbelief. He nearly laughed in the man’s face, but swallowed the insult knowing the misconception might offer him a clean getaway and with the blessing of the guard no less.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the guard said, “lepers aren’t allowed inside the city. Go find a temple at a less crowded city. We can’t afford another outbreak in Kurn.” The Doljinn shooed Shade away with the tip of his spear. “Go on, beat it,” he ordered, “out with you, you leper dog!”
Shade shook his head and brushed past the clueless guard. He slipped under the broad twisted forms of Karus Oaks. He felt a flood of relief. He saw the guards staring after him for another minute, but they turned back to the crowds. The assassin headed deeper into the forest until he paused. He peered out through a clearing in the trees at the great city of Kurn. He never grew tired of looking upon a city so alive with fanfare and commotion.
Kurn’s tall crenulated towers hung with tapestries and banners of all colors. Flags representing every light-skinned nation flapped in the afternoon wind. Her walls had long since grayed from the ancient yellow limestone which caused one to forget it had once been the Shamite capital. Shade could hear the buzz of the crowded streets even from outside the city.
Travelers from nearly every day race descended upon the city from every direction, by land and sea, like hordes of raiders coming to bleed her wealth dry, but the wealth of Kurn never bled dry. A great beacon blazed in the monumental lighthouse of Kurn standing proud watch over the crowded harbor.
Kurn was overcrowded with racial districts and foreign quarters, boasting the oddest assortment of buildings in the world. Every major human tribe and class, not counting the Elves, Dwarves and Centaur had a piece of the city. Only the silent towers of Mithralmora stood vacant, leaving the only single void in the bustling city thanks in no small part to the abolishment of magic. The graying of Kurn’s walls had been largely blamed on pollution from Dwarve Alley, but the effect made the city feel more approachable than the other Shamite cities that resembled gated communities catering exclusively to the very rich.
The Shamites soon realized the golden financial opportunity Kurn presented and quickly transformed her into the greatest trade city of all Covent. In fact, they did not hesitate to overdo it. Criers and trumpeters stood atop Kurn’s many gatehouses. They shouted from the walls, clamoring on the nerves of the local guards, but still they called on and on. Children tossed down streamers and confetti as the endless droves of people filed into the city.
“Welcome one and all! Welcome to Kurn, Kurn the Magnificent!” the criers shouted from the heights, “Jewel of the North! Pearl of the Coasts! Doorstep to all Nations! Mother of Commerce! She who threw her arms wide open to all nations, to all peoples…” They called over and over again. Each verse was heralded by another blast of trumpets. Such artificial ceremony was showered down in such overly grand display, every visitor might as well have been crowned a king or queen.
Shade stood a long way off, under the cover of trees, from the wild and boisterous proclamations. The words crawled deeply under his dark skin. He knew despite all Kurn’s pomp and pageantry, such declarations were veiled under a honeyed mask of discrimination. These gates did not stand open to all peoples. Few night mortals except slaves, barring one odd exception, ever dared enter Kurn uncloaked. Night mortals were shot on sight. Instead, the Dark Elf had to turn to alternative methods to entering the city.
The assassin draped the scarf back across his face. He hurried under the thick of trees. He cut through the far southeastern eaves of Karus Forest. The broad leafless oaks did not provide the same cover as the tall coniferous pines of Fogrim Forest in the late winter months. The Dark Elf reached a trampled dirt trail which wound through the trees adjacent to the main road. The trail was called the Old Thieves’ Road and had been used for centuries by less reputable guests to enter Kurn. Shade turned westward and followed the trail for a good ten minutes. He kept his eyes peeled for brigands, but the road was unusually quiet. Karus Forest was too large to be patrolled even by the forces of Doljinaar.