You are begging in the market square. no one is kinds to beggars. You are spat on, degraded, ignored. Its a cruel world. You sit on your blanket. pleading with ayone who passes by. The sky is blue and the dirt of the ground digs into your palms. Yelling is heard from down the market. Royal Knights speed past. Knocking over your cup of a few cents. You sight and are about to reach for your earnings. You see soft pale hands picking up your coins and putting them in your cup. You look up to see a woman wearing a dark cloak. Her face is hidden under the hood. You can smell to soft perfumes coming from her. She smiles softly and hands the cup back to you. You thank her as she stands. You look back at your cup and notice something. The money has multiplied. Gold and silver. You look back up in shock. To thank her. The woman is gone.