Tarentum

“So empty” Artemis said. You and your silver haired lover are currently walking down the main market street of Tarentum. Shops lined either side of the street, set into the first floor of a two, three or even four story building. Pretty, but poorly maintained arches held up ceilings and kept seating areas shaded. What should have been a bustling market with shops from the city’s entrance right down to the docks, some several hundred meters away was, in fact, quite. The few people that were out were quiet and disheveled, hurrying to the shop they needed to go to and then leaving again.

“Time for some tax collection” came the voice of a sadistically eager man. You looked over to see a portly man with two club armed thugs flanking him accosting a man in his late fifties early sixties. His workshop was clearly a woodworking shop.

“Tax collection? But I already paid my taxes!” The elderly man said, dismay in his voice.

“Oh? Well not to me you haven’t!” sneered the tax collector. His thugs began to smack their hands with their clubs and sneering at the old man.

“I don’t have any more to give” The elderly man said, his whole being showing that he knew what was going to happen.

“Well well, no money” The Tax collector began, in a faux surprised voice. He looked at his henchmen and made a show of being surprised. The goons chuckled darkly. “You know what we do to those who can’t pay the taxes,” said the tax collector. Hearing this, you decided this was where you would stop it.

“That’s enough gentlemen” you say, striding confidently over to the three men.

“Who are you?!” demanded the Tax Collector “And I don’t think you’ve paid YOUR taxes either!” he snarled.

“I’m not a resident” you tell the portly man who sneered in response.

“Well then, You’ve got to pay the Visitors tax!” the man said, giving a smug grin.

“How much” you say, holding the man’s gaze and matching it with a cold one.

“How much do you have?” Asked the tax collector, looking you over from your cloak to the obvious sword on your belt. You could see the greedy expression in the man’s eyes, so comfortable in his assumed power over others. You barely managed to keep a growl from being your response. No mortal man has power over you. You draw your sword in one smooth motion, letting the bronze coloured sword flash in the midday sun as you leveled it against the tax collector. He made a frightened squeal and backed up several paces, a look of abstract horror on his face as he attempted to hide behind his thugs.

“I have 60 centimeters (two feet) of cold hard metal if you’d like,” you say, your voice cold and merciless. “How much is this ‘visitors’ tax of yours?” you ask, malace dripping from your words.

“T-t-t-t-tewlve” the man squeaked out, holding his hands up in front of him and trying to lean away. You stick your off hand into your cloak and conjure a coin purse, revealing it to the men in front of you. You hold the purse upside down and loosen the draw strings holding it closed until coins fell out of them. You counted the coins until twelve were on the paving stones that made up the street and leveled a glare at the man.

“There’s your tax, take it and go” you say, making threatening motions with your blade.

“W-well pick it up!” hissed the tax collector to one of his thugs. The thug looked surprised but bent over to obey the tax collector, while the portly pig himself stayed well behind his other thug. When the coins were collected the trio beat a hasty retreat.

“Thank you young man” The elderly gentleman said, drawing your attention to him. “Though I fear you have only made it worse,” he added, a sad smile crossing his features.

“Perhaps for the moment, but I promise you I will make things right again” you tell the man. The man smiled but it didn’t reach the eyes. With a sigh you hand over the coin purse, a handful of denarii in it. “At least take this, maybe buy off the next band of thugs or what have you,” you say.

“I can’t take this,” the man said, attempting to hand it back. “You need your gold far more than I ever could” he added.

“Hardly, I’ve too much gold to be honest, I use it sparingly as it is” you explain, a secret grin on your face. “I will do my best to help, Tarentum will be right again” you tell the man.

“Then perhaps you’d best meet with a man named Julian, he’s what passes for Watch Captain these days, though the Governor says otherwise” the elderly man told you. You nod and leave, thoughts of starting a rebellion swirling in your head. You notice a small crowd had gathered but they quickly left now that the scene had ended, some of them looked rather thin.

“We should start a food kitchen or something” Artemis commented “It’s not that hard for us to be in multiple places at once,” she explained.

“A wonderful idea my dear, let’s buy one of these buildings and run an eatery” you say as you look around “It will allow us to build our little rebellion” you add.