Twenty Sided Dice

He left the chair, came to the young man, and stopped him. Then Siegel crouched down, took the shackle in his hand, and looked at it carefully.

Exactly the same as the shackles used by orcs to bind slaves, he could also see the words "slave worker" inscribed in Common and Orc languages.

Siegel was half-squatting, just as tall as the boy. He looked into the boy's eyes and asked, "What's your name? Why are you tied up?"

"I'm called No. 2, just call me Little Two." The young man's eyes were dodging, as if he was afraid of Siegel. He also didn't want Siegel to touch him, so after answering the question, he took two steps back, ran away, and picked up the rag to clean up Principle Siegel's desk.

Seeing him running away, Siegel always felt that the back of his actions was a little familiar. ‘Maybe it’s because, like the people seen on those slave ships, they are a group of people who are frightened and miserable. ’ He stood up straight, came to the bar, tapped the table with his hands, called the listless boss, and asked him, “What happened to that boy?”

The boss blinked his eyes, showed a sly smile, and said, "Guest, what do you want to drink? You can ask any question here, no one will bother you. And if you are willing to pay, I can also help you find the answer. ."

"Waterdeep can't keep slaves, this is one of the local laws." Siegel ignored the boss's words at all. He didn't want information, he just wanted results. So he said directly: "That young man can't be tied to slave ankles to work, you have to set him free."

"Ha, this lord, I don't know which corner you came from. Have you read a lot of knight novels?" The boss said viciously as he put away the cups on the table and put it under the counter, "I advise you not to Mind your own business here!"

Siegel can tell which is real evil and which is bluff. The owner of the tavern belongs to the latter, and there is always a swaying hesitation in his eyes. However, following his words, a few shadows stood up in the corner, all of them wearing wide cloaks with weapons of different lengths hidden under the cloaks. Three people surrounded him from behind and stood beside Siegel. Among them was a tall, hooded, pockmarked face staring at Siegel with sullen eyes. He opened his mouth first and said: "Stranger, the boss told you not to meddle in your own business, so you should stay away from your own business! The rippling moonlight does not welcome people like you, this is a peaceful place, so get out of here. ."

The other two, one fat and short, the other tall and thin, clenched their fists, their knuckles rattling.

Siegel put his hand on the handle of the knife, and then stared at the tavern owner: "Using slaves will incur at least a penalty of exile. Someone will always take care of this."

But the boss turned his eyes away and asked those three people for help.

"Yo! How many years have you not met a stupid knight here?" Mazi's face was full of the smell of beer, garlic and teasing, and he picked his ears and roared, "MD, don't get out of here, don't want to live anymore?"

Siegel turned his head to look at the three people, and asked in a calm tone, "It seems that you are in charge here?"

"So what!" Pocky yelled, reaching out and grabbing at Siegel. He tried to hold his shoulders, but his fingers slid sinisterly down his neck, ready to grab Siegel's throat. Pockface reached out to Siegel's waist with his other hand, trying to stop him from drawing his sword.

Not to be outdone, Siegel shook his shoulders and used his body to break free from the pock-faced hand. At the same time, he kicked his heels violently, causing the latter to lose his balance and fall on the bar. Siegel drew his knife out of its sheath and knocked the dagger against his chest with the hilt. The dagger flew up to the ceiling and slammed into it.

All the guests watched all this with great interest, and some even raised their glasses, hoping that this "show" would be more exciting. Only the few **** women screamed hysterically, with harsh voices, and fled from the gate. The hotel owner was shaking all over and hurriedly stepped back. But there was a wall behind him, so he had nowhere to run, so he huddled on the ground.

The scimitar is like the moonlight in early autumn, bright and bright, leaving a perfect arc in the air. The tall and thin man had four fingers cut off, blood was flying in the sky, and he could no longer use the dagger. He also screamed like a woman, bewildered by the sight of his severed finger.

Humpty Dumpty pounced, holding a short stick in his hand. The stick was strapped to the wrist, inlaid with round studs, and covered in blood - his favorite thing to do is to beat people's stomachs with this stick and watch them vomit blood, it gave him a lot of satisfaction . Siegel swung the knife from the bottom up, forcing Humpty Dumpty to block with his stick. However, the shoddy weapons are far different from the weapons from the exquisite craftsmanship of the dwarves, and the sticks are directly cut into two pieces. Before Fatty could react, the sharp machete was placed on his neck.

Mazimian barely stood up while supporting the bar with his hands. He drew a dagger from his waist and wanted to launch a surprise attack from behind. Siegel kept his eye on him, drawing the dagger with his free hand, balancing the fight in both directions.

The dagger silently hit the edge of the dagger, then cut the dagger into two like a hot knife cutting butter. This dagger is too sharp, it will cut off anything it touches. Siegel didn't want to kill for the time being, so he didn't use a dagger, he could only slam the pock-faced nose with his fist.

"You! You actually..." Pocky shouted.

Siegel punched him again, another punch, and a fourth punch. The pockmarked face and the bridge of the nose are powdery, and the blood is flowing. His eyes turned to the middle pair, he lost consciousness, and slipped softly to the floor without saying a word.

Siegel put the dagger back in his waist, and then hit the tall and thin man with a hard uppercut on the chin, so that he would stop screaming with his severed fingers, so he knocked the man unconscious. The short, fat man who had the machete around his neck was shivering, and his face was full of fear.

"Okay, can we talk now?" Siegel said, "I will slowly put the knife back into the scabbard. If there is any more threatening move, the knife will slash the neck. do you understand?"

The fat man nodded and raised his hands very high. Siegel wiped the machete on his clothes, wiped off the blood, and sheathed it. "Okay, can we talk about the use of slaves now?"

Humpty Dumpty hurriedly pointed his eyes at the boss with the rippling moonlight, and said, "It has nothing to do with us, he knows."

The boss was still lying on the ground behind the bar, but was grabbed by Siegel. He looked at the situation in the tavern - all the customers were drinking and talking to themselves, and no one wanted to meddle in this business. The people who come here are very realistic guys who never do things that are not good, and hide away things that are troublesome. And if no one reports it, the city guard will not pay attention to what happened here. This is the normal state of the moonlight - in fact, the boss still very much hopes that someone can rescue him. It is because of this kind of neglect that the boss dares to leave a little slave to work, obedient and saves a fortune. It was completely different from the style here until he met the nosy "Knight-sama".

"I assure you, my lord, this slave is not mine." The tavern owner hurriedly shook his head: "A merchant came here—of course I am not sure if he is a real merchant, maybe a slave trader—yes, a slave trader Came here and stayed for a week, very mean guy. He left without a word and left such a little slave, ugly and smelly. He still owes me five silver coins for rent, so I let this The guy's slave work pays off. I'm going to let him go after he's done! I swear!"

Siegel suddenly reached out to the tavern owner and said suddenly, "Give me the key to the fetters!"

The boss subconsciously touched the lower back, and then stopped. He raised his eyelids to look at Siegel with an embarrassed smile: "This key is in the upstairs room, left by the slave trader, not mine."

"So has he finished the work for 5 silver coins?"

"Of course, he just finished it."

Siegel took the key, walked to the thin boy, squatted down, and opened his shackles. The boy looked around nervously, his ankles were full of wounds, and the layers of scabs had been rubbed so thickly that it was shocking.

The shackles fell to the floor, making a crisp sound. The boy froze for a moment, then turned his head and ran. Siegel grabbed it quickly and said to him, "You can't go like this now."

The boy's face was mixed with puzzled and painful expressions. After hearing this, his whole body seemed to be drained and softened. Siegel understood what he was thinking, and just explained: "You don't run too fast, at least wait for the wound to heal and get back to health. If you go out like this, you will probably get caught again. If you have family or somewhere you want to go If so, I will give you travel expenses to let you go back, please believe me, okay?"

"Yes, yes, this is an upright adult..." The tavern owner quickly agreed.

"What's your name?" Siegel asked.

"Jack, this is my name." He replied, "Will you protect and help me?"

"Yes." Siegel stood up, but kept holding his hand. At this time he saw Buck-toothed Johnnys walking into the tavern with a handsome young man. The man had soft and curly hair, big blue eyes, and a scar that looked like a tear at the corner of his eye, which just added some vicissitudes to his handsome face. The man was wearing a white silk shirt with three buttons open, revealing thick chest hair. He was wearing thin, short underpants, belted as he walked, and smelled of cheap perfume—especially evident in this stinky tavern. Presumably this is the troubadour named Jariel.