Oben was speechless. He just stared at the dark figure as his hand wandered instinctively toward his sword opposite the hand holding the torch. Grend had seen many things in his years of service and decided not to be so fast to pass judgment. This man’s business had to be urgent to come out in this storm.
“Who goes there? State your business,” he called in a shaky voice. A few seconds, which felt like an hour, passed before the dark figure slowly reached a hand deep into his robe. Now Grend found himself unconsciously fingering his sword handle at the unnerving movement. Just as slowly as the figure reached into his robe, he withdrew a small bag that appeared to be a coin purse. He slowly held it up toward the two soldiers.
Another few seconds that felt far longer went by before the dark figure began to shake the bag back and forth, seemingly to verify its contents and dispel their doubts with the familiar jingling sound of coin. Lightning crackled across the sky again, followed almost immediately by booming thunder. The rain began to drive sideways again, which made both soldiers squint as tiny, stinging drops hit them in the face. Grend was the first to compose himself as he shook off the onslaught, only to look down and see the figure was no longer holding the coin purse, just standing patiently, his arms folded once again in that same nonthreatening manner.
“Bah...let the freak in,” grumbled Grend as he regained his nerve and walked over to one of the wooden wheels on the north side of the passage. He quickly gestured to Oben to man the one on the other side. Oben, who was still a bit shaken, walked as fast as possible without actually running to the other wheel as both men began turning.
The metal gate was not heavy, but did require two men to turn two separate wheels at once to open it. The flimsy metal gate was more fit for keeping livestock out than for actual protection of the city. It was only closed at night anyway, which always made Grend wonder why, since their instructions were to let folk come and go as they please. I suppose having to turn these bloody wheels a couple times a night justifies our compensation.
With the gate now open, the dark figure drifted through as the two soldiers looked down at him from the other side of the narrow walkway. Oben shivered, looking at the unnatural grace with which the cloaked stranger moved. His head, which was perfectly level and did no bobbing at all while he moved, combined with the long robe that did not display any legs or feet, gave the appearance of a specter floating along the street. The dark figure did not appear to be particularly tall, but it was hard to tell from this height. The guard shivered again and grumbled something about the cold as both guards took positions at their wheels and closed the gate.
The stranger floated down the main street, which consisted of a combination of clay and sand and was packed down tight from decades of use by wagon wheels, horses, and literally thousands of merchants throughout the years. This was partly the reason why there were deep puddles everywhere. The rainwater did not easily seep into the rock-hard dirt road.
The cloaked figure continued right down the middle of the street, not even avoiding the larger puddles, just walking in a line straight as an arrow with his head down and arms crossed. This was the main street in Denark, where most of the trade shops were. He passed a local armory—one of several in Denark, the bakery, and the weaponsmith’s shop, all closed for the night. Given how dark it was, the only way to tell what the shops were was by the shapes of the wooden signs hanging over the doors. A wooden sword, shield, fish, or loaf of bread were pretty clear indicators of the services provided.
However, none of these establishments drew the interest of the stranger. He continued to walk through the driving rain, seeming oblivious to the lightning that flashed again and again followed by earsplitting thunder. He only encountered one person in the street, who was walking way off to the side, trying to take shelter by stopping at every shop that had a roof. When the man saw the cloaked figure coming down the middle of the street, his priorities seemed to change. No longer stopping at every temporary shelter, the man just rushed on his way without looking back more than once.