030

Orphic shifted his body, making his seat on the box more comfortable as he continued to watch the merchants. Those he saw that recognized him would give him no food today, and those that he did not recognize were not very lucky to give any wares to a furoo. Orphic scratched his chin, stubble. Perhaps he would visit the Sakpatian Sisters tonight, he did far better begging when people still thought him a child.

It had been two years since he became a man in the eyes of the law. Two years on the streets had changed very little for Orphic. If anything things had gotten worse, Darius had used his adulthood as an excuse to further harass him and increase the violence of his beatings. Orphic guessed that it was his fear at getting caught that stopped him from going any further. Darius had always been a coward.

Ten years Orphic's senior, Orphic remembers first meeting Darius and his group of followers as they trolled the back streets of Cap-Sebastian looking for the street livers, the furoo to prey on. In the beginning it was only fists and feet, there was no real threat of death. Only games of power and humiliation. The elderly and the addicts always received the wort of Darius' attention, something innate seemed to save the youngest on the streets. Some unconscious thought left those lucky onces with only bruises or faces pressed into the still warm manure of horses. For unlucky others, some hatred of the old drove Darius and his fellows to further acts of humiliation. Forcing the weakest, and those most broken by a long life on the streets to degrade themselves for Darius' pleasure. Urine, feces, and garbage were the most common implements. Forcing those fearful ones to eat or drink of their own accord seemed to bring about the most pleasure, giving Darius the most power.