My feet take me back to the waterfront almost by themselves. I barely have to think about my destination. It takes me almost not time to cover the distance either. I''m really getting more familiar with the terrain. It even feels like my [Streetwise] skill is getting close to leveling up again. It isn''t quite there yet though.


    Once I''m there it takes me slightly longer to spot a promising target. Curiously enough I can feel [Perception] improve a little as I take in the scene in detail. A bunch of already slightly drunk river boatmen, really only men for a change, are making passes on some of the women working around the waterfront.


    I''m tempted to roll my eyes at their attempts to catch the attention of the ladies. Gods and goddesses, of course none of the women their crews might entail would hang out with them. What I see is beyond embarrassing. They really should just quit before someone decides that they need a good dunking.


    I can already see some of the other people around looking their way with ill intent. I can''t blame them either. At the same time this makes those boorish drunkards the perfect mark for me. By comparison I probably couldn''t look worse even if I were to try.


    I put on a smile and add a little swagger to my steps. It doesn''t take long for some of the other people around to catch on. No one intervenes though. They are probably all curious where this will go. The river boatmen on the other hand are entirely oblivious to my approach until I''m almost upon them. The few that seem to take notice are too busy staring to say anything.


    I stop besides a wooden post near them and watch silently as one of them tries to impress a slightly annoyed, middle aged woman carrying a basket of salted fish she just bought. I don''t even need to look to tell that she is neither interested nor impressed.


    Once she passes I make eye contact with the less than successful drunkard. I give my voice a condescending tone.


    “Ha! What was that supposed to be? Do you honestly think any women will fall for silly posing like that? You''ll have to do way better.”


    For a moment there is a dead silence, except for some snickers from the onlookers. The only reason why I''m certain that I''m not about to be part of a brawl is that none of the morons are getting ready for a fight. They all just stare. Finally one of them jabs his elbow into the side of the one I just insulted and he works up the courage, or maybe sense, to respond.


    “Yeah? And what would a slip of a girl like you know? It''s not like you are a real woman!”


    I refrain from rolling my eyes, even if only just barely. Instead I snort.


    “Yeah! This slip of a girl is more man than you''ll ever be. Come here and I''ll show you what I''m all about!”


    The one I have singled out gets all red and sputters in a rage.


    “Oh that''s it! I''ll gut you! You''re fish bait!”


    Some of the others, probably the ones slightly less drunk, are quick to grab him before he can do something stupid.


    Now the rest of the docks and the nearby streets falls silent. The kind of bloodshed the man just threatened me with is probably not the kind the people from here want to see, even if the would gladly knock some sense into these drunken hoodlums.


    I like where this is going though.


    The ones who grabbed their comrade are busy talking some sense into him and they even seem to have a little success with it.


    I on the other hand step to a set of nearby crates and roll up my sleeves. I sit down on one of the smaller crates and get in position for an arm wrestling match using the largest crate as a substitute for a real table.


    I flash the drunkards a confident grin.


    “Come on let him go. Let him come over, so he can show everyone that he is as tough as he acts. Oh, you know what, I''ll even add a little wager! I''ll bet a penny that I''ll win.”


    I fish the penny in question from my purse and place it on the crate where everyone can see it.


    For the briefest of moments it seems as if everyone all around is holding their breath. Then the river boatmen get moving. The one I singled out doesn''t even get a word in sideways as the others drag him along.


    “You show her!”


    “As if a girl like her could beat you!”


    “Here''s a penny! We take that bet!”


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    “You better not cry afterwards!”


    I don''t even bother to keep track who says what. The way they all act tough all of a sudden is just so sad. I just grin at the poor fool they push down on an upturned bucket across from me. By now he seems to realize that he is being roped into something. Well, I can''t let him make an actually sensible choice here.


    “Ready? Ready for me to make you cry that is?”


    That does the trick. He goes red all the way to the ears once more. Without any further delay he slams down his elbow on the crate in between us. And for some reasons it feels like my [Intimidate] skill just improved a little.


    By now the river boatmen aren''t the only ones crowding in close anymore either. No, by now the little spectacle is drawing a crowd from all around. People who only eyed the drunkards with disdain before are now showing actual interest.


    Just as well. A few more people around might make the drunkards a little reluctant to start anything else once I''m done showing them up. And if not? Well, I don''t mind an audience. In fact can appreciate it. I shouldn''t get ahead of myself though.


    I grab the hand of the moron across from me, before he can think better of the whole affair. His grip is pretty firm, but I''m not worried. Even if he weren''t already drunk I would have little doubt that I''ll win.


    Out of the corner of the eye I notice a familiar figure. Sylwia. She looks on with interest. Someone else has started a betting pool too. Ha! Of course my fellow guild mates wouldn''t let an opportunity like this pass. Well, as far as I care they can make all the money they want as long as I get some coins out of it too.


    The crowd quiets down as someone starts to count us down. I completely focus my attention on my opponent now. He starts a little early, but I won''t complain. I''m ready anyway and catch myself after giving just a little.


    A look of deep concentration is etched on the face of the man across from me. That and exertion. He is struggling to maintain the status quo. To anyone who actually knows contests like this one it''s probably pretty obvious already that he won''t win.


    To anyone not drunk off their ass anyway. The river boatmen are still cheering for their comrade, in an attempt to motivate him to mobilize whatever reserves of strength he may still have. As if he could actually still turn this around.


    I decide to nurture their hopes a little. The ones running the betting pool will probably appreciate it. Relaxing ever so slightly I give a little. Not much though. The cheering of the drunkards and anyone other fools who bet against me intensifies a little.


    Then I tense back up, tightening my muscles once more, as I resume pushing in earnest.


    Almost right away there are cries of distress as my opponent starts to give, little by little. There are cheers too though and not just a few either. I barely pay any attention to either. At the same time I can''t help but grin a little as I feel my [Bluff] skill improve a little too. Just a little more and it''ll level up.


    By now my opponent is barely holding on. His face is beet red and there are some veins at his temples that are bulging in a dangerous way. I''m a little worried for him. Not enough though not to utterly humiliate him.


    All it takes is one more serious push and his resistance crumbles like a house of cards. His face contorts in pain, as I twist his arm and smash his hand against the crate with considerable force.


    There is no divine whisper, but it feels like [Brawling] is a little closer to the next level up now. Does a rather trivial contest of strength like this really count as brawling? Well, I don''t mind either way. I''ll take every little thing.


    A mix of cheers and groans fills the air all around us, as the drunkard slips off his seat, as I let go of him. As I grab the two coins on the crate, another of the boatmen steps forward.


    “Double or nothing!”


    He sounds mighty confident. He is a little bulkier than the other one too. The crowd around us quiets and an almost eerie silence settles over the waterfront. He flexes his muscles for emphasis.


    “I said double or nothing! Or are you a chicken?”


    If the silence could grow any more oppressive it would. I just snort though and put the two coins back down on the crate. I tap them for emphasis.


    “Stop posing and put your coins where your mouth is!”


    Almost immediately a cheer erupts from the crowd. Most probably don''t even care who wins by now. For the bystanders this is just some decent evening entertainment. And for the other members of the thieves guild it is of course an opportunity to make bank. They are quick to accept new bets.


    The brute slaps two pennies onto the crate and sits down across from me with a confident grin. He even makes a show of rolling up his sleeves, revealing muscles and tattoos in the process. At least the latter are a little impressive. He must know at least one decent tattoo artist.


    The muscles on the other hand don''t concern me all that much. Sure, he isn''t nearly as much of a pushover as the other guy, but I''m still confident in my own abilities. Still, the difference is big enough for me to take this match seriously.


    This time I''m ready for any surprises as the countdown starts and that is a good thing too, as this guy isn''t playing any games. He goes all in, not holding anything back.


    I manage to hold myself anyway. I can''t afford to put on a show this time around though. It takes every little bit of strength I can muster to twist his arm bit by bit. My face is probably as red as his. Not the best look on me, but I''m sure it is good for the betting pool.


    Finally, after one last push, I manage to smash his hand against the crate. Again a mixed choir of groans, cheers and curses erupts all around us.


    I in turn enjoy the little divine whisper that brushes my mind instead.


    [*Ding!* Your skill Brawling has leveled up to level 5!]


    As I grab the coins to slip them into my purse the muscle head jumps up to point an accusing finger at me.


    “There is no way! You are a dirty cheat!”


    Silence falls again.


    Slowly, every movement deliberate, I get up myself to face him. I slap his finger away too, not intimidated in the slightest, although he easily stands a head taller than me. Finally my voice cuts through the silence like a knife.


    “Those are fighting words. Either you back them up, or you shut up.”


    I shift my stance slightly, as I ball my hands into fists, ready for violence to erupt at any moment.


    Another voice interrupts us before the idiot can say or do anything to make things even worse.


    “No fights in the city streets! Desist or face the consequences!”


    I eye the guard, not one I have seen before, who pushes his way through the crowd to the front for a moment. Then I look back to the moron across from me. I take in the crowd too, which is still waiting with baited breath.


    “No fights in the city streets, huh? So, out on a boat anchored in the middle of the river should be fine?”


    For a moment the guard seems to be thinking about it, then someone pushes some coins into his hand and he comes to a conclusion pretty fast.


    “Fine. I''ll allow it!”