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Higslaff sat at his desk, eyes closed as he pondered what items to move from storage to the showroom. Someone knocked on the office door.
He recognized the pattern of three rapid knocks. His nephew, Vernie. “What is it?”
The youth opened the door and peeked in his head, covered with hair the color of damp straw. “There are two men who want to speak with you, Uncle.” He spoke quickly, as if he’d just caught his breath. “A dark-skinned warrior and a gnome that carries a cudgel and shield. They’re called Lysine and Jax.” The youth’s eyes widened. “I’ve seen them in your shop before, and they have friends outside.”
“Tell them I’ll meet with them shortly. Let them look around the shop for five minutes. Maybe they’ll buy something.” He began clearing the stack of papers off his desk. “Then escort them up.”
“Uh, huh,” the boy said. “Five minutes.” Then he closed the door and trotted down the stairs.
Higslaff was fond of his nephew, although he rarely showed it. The lad listened well and was eager to learn. Higslaff’s younger sister hoped her son would inherit the business, someday. The boy didn’t know that. He was just happy he hadn’t been apprenticed out to be a farrier or a stone mason, like his older brothers.
When his nephew’s boots reached the bottom of the stairs, Higslaff closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, connecting with Snix, his homunculus. Or, as Coleen Sammae called it, his reptilian minion. Despite the magical creature’s small size and near to perfect camouflage ability, he knew her feline familiar would eventually catch wind of it. Snix smelled like a damp snake. In addition to a keen nose, a cat’s superior eyes and ears would eventually detect it. So he shared his secret. Better than her destroying Snix with a barrage of Mystic Missiles, and injuring its master, in the process.
While the winged creature made its way from the upper apartment down into his office, Higslaff moved two chairs from the worktable and placed them in front of his desk. The homunculus opened and closed the door and flew over to the desk. It wasn’t graceful in flight, but the creature’s magical nature made it nearly tireless.
Snix was covered in fine scales, like a snake, and physically resembled a cross between a chameleon, a bat and a goblin, shrunk down to eighteen inches in height. Some might mistake it for a devilish imp, except that its prehensile tale lacked the poison barb. Instead, for defense, it bore needle-sharp teeth coated with venom that usually rendered creatures unconscious.
Snix considered himself a he because the substance of his essence had been derived from his master, who was a human male. Snix’s master thought of him as a he or it depending on his mood, but never as a she. That didn’t concern Snix, except for an occasional mild curiosity as to why. The homunculus had access only to those thoughts his master revealed. Even if he desired to, Snix couldn’t conceal any thoughts or memories from his master.
Higslaff never had the misfortune of crossing paths with an imp, but he’d once checked the pockets and pouches of a cleric who’d died of a sting from the venomous barb. What stuck with the pawnshop owner was the rank smell of burnt sulfur that clung to the dead priest’s body. It was something he’d never forget.
When the pawnshop owner concentrated, he connected in a manner where he could see through the homunculus’s eyes, hear with its ears and smell through its nostrils. One of the creature’s weaknesses was that it couldn’t talk. The closest Snix could manage was gurgles and hisses. But, with minimal concentration, he could carry on a conversation, a sort of telepathy. Snix could poke at its master’s mind to initiate a connection, even enough to wake Higslaff from the deepest slumber.
The more distance between them, the longer it took to make a connection—and the more free will the innately mischievous creature seemed to gain.
Higslaff pointed at the long table to the left of his desk, and spoke mind to mind with his homunculus. Perch over there, far end of the table. Remain quiet and observe. When I say, move to the near end of the table. I’ve been informed the druid wears a crystal that reacts when a magical creature comes within close proximity. I want to see if, and at what range, you might cause a reaction.
The homunculus clasped his clawed hands and grinned, showing his pointed teeth. Snix’s ability to blend in didn’t work on its master.
Higslaff received the mental reply from his homunculus. <I will do as you say, when you say to, Boss.>
Higslaff wanted to see how perceptive the druid and gnome were, with or without the reported enchanted crystal. Open the door enough that you can slip back upstairs if needed.
Snix hurried to comply.
A moment later Vernie knocked on the door.
“Send’em in,” Higslaff replied.
The druid entered first, followed by the gnome.
Lysine was sturdily built with dark hair, tightly curled and cropped close to his scalp. He stood a few inches under six-feet in height and often wielded a spear, but today only carried a short sword in its scabbard on his hip. The warrior druid wore ringmail armor. All of the rings were bronze, except for two enchanted steel ones, obtained from Higslaff as part of a trade.
The gnome, Jax, stood a few inches over four feet tall, and had thick sideburns and the customary bulbous gnome nose. His heavy boots clomped as he crossed the floor, following Lysine toward the desk.
Higslaff stood and reached across his desk to shake hands with the warrior druid and gnome healer, and then gestured to the two chairs waiting for them.
When they were seated, he tipped his hat back slightly while leaning back in his chair and asked, “Have you come to sell, pawn, or trade an item?” He raised an eyebrow. “Possibly enchanted, like the cursed dagger you brought before?”
“We did not request a meeting for that purpose,” Lysine said.
Higslaff expected the druid to speak, but he kept an eye on the gnome.
“We are here to inquire about a job for which you are considering a group of suitable individuals to take on.”
Higslaff sat up straight, feigning surprise, as well as sincere interest. “You are?” He dragged out the question as he steepled his fingers. “Might I inquire how you came across this information?”
“Indeed,” Lysine replied. “An individual contacted us through an employee at the Red Brick. It is a tea house.”
Higslaff refrained from smiling. Of course he knew what the Red Brick was and he suspected Josiah put his reliable contact in the guild, Josie, up to leaving the message. “Would that person be Josiah the barber?” he asked.
“That would be incorrect.”
Higslaff glanced over at Jax and then returned his gaze to Lysine and shrugged. “No matter.” The pawnshop owner wasn’t sure how far he wanted to push it. He wanted to minimize the chance of drawing a god’s interest on behalf of the two Favored Souls seated before him.
“I was going to send Vernie out this afternoon to see if any of my regulars might be interested, but you and your party have done work for me before.” He leaned back in his chair again. “And this job is far less...let’s say, complicated.”
In a lowered voice, Lysine asked, “Does this job involve the conflict between the thieves’ guild to which you are associated and the rival guild located in Riven Rock?”
The gnome interjected, “Because we don’t want to get drawn into it any more than we already are—have been.”
“To be honest,” Higslaff said, “the job involves travel. To pick something up and issue payment, and deliver the item to me. It is something that will be of assistance in the, conflict, as you call it.” He held up an index finger to halt what Lysine, or the gnome, was about to say. In the meantime, he relayed to Snix, Creep closer on the table.
<Yes, Boss.>
“I am concerned that you didn’t get your information from Josiah, because he is one of the few who know of the planned pick up. What, from the Red Brick, did you learn about the job?”
“That it would pay well in gold and that our party would be well suited for the adventure.”
“Nothing else?”
“I assure you,” Lysine said, maintaining eye contact. He moved a hand to his chest. After a half second, he tugged on one of the bronze rings, as if to adjust the ringmail armor’s position. “Nothing more than what I stated.”
The gnome nodded in agreement, although something seemed to be distracting him. His nose scrunched up for a second or two.
“Good,” Higslaff said, resting his hands on the table. “I believe that if your party were to leave quietly, and doesn’t draw attention, the risk of entanglement would be minimal.”
“Further entanglement,” the druid corrected. He reached into his satchel and withdrew a small leather-bound book and a pencil.
Higslaff said to Snix, Back away.
<Right, Boss.>
Higslaff shrugged his shoulders “What’s done is done. If you’re interested, I’ll give you the details and negotiate a fee for your service.” He glanced down at the gnome who rubbed his nose once or twice while looking around. “Is that agreeable, Lysine—and Jax?”
The gnome’s attention snapped back to the conversation. He glanced up at his adventuring party’s leader. “Yeah, I think we’d like to hear what the job is.”
Lysine held up a finger and scribbled a note on one of the small book’s pages. He turned the book and placed it on the desk for the pawnshop owner to read.
A familiar may be eavesdropping.
Higslaff studied the note, before quirking an eyebrow at the druid.
Lysine nodded his head once in affirmation.
Higslaff then rolled his eyes. Sneak close again then quietly retreat back up stairs.
<Yes, Boss. This is fun.>
The pawnshop owner got up from his desk, opened the door leading downstairs, into the back room holding shelves of labelled merchandise not on display. “Vernie,” he called.
The youth bounded up the steps. “Yes, Uncle?”
In a voice loud enough that the druid and healer could hear, he said, “Tell Coleen Sammae her familiar doesn’t need to perch on the steps while stalking mice in the storage area right now.” His back was turned to the two adventurers as he winked at his nephew. “It belongs up front during business hours.”
“Right, Uncle,” the boy said and bounded back down the steps.
Higslaff returned to the chair behind his desk, he said, “You are most perceptive, Lysine.” He feigned an apologetic look as, out of the corner of his eye, he noted Snix slipping out of the room. “You know that my magic user employee lost her feline familiar in the Fireblast attack.”
“We are aware of that as one of the unfortunate outcomes,” Lysine said.
“She summoned another familiar, a young feline.”
Higslaff did is best to look somber. After sighing, he said, “I have learned many things during my years as a pawn dealer. But the connection druids have with animals and nature, even within a city.” He paused and glanced at the walls, floor and ceiling. “Even within a business establishment built of brick, stone, and wood long years dead.”
That seemed to satisfy the druid and healer that Higslaff wasn’t aware of the enchanted crystal, and that the triggering was a familiar rather than his homunculus.
Higslaff leaned closer, across the table and whispered, “I liked the previous one better.”
The pair of adventurers each offered an uncomfortable smile and redirected the conversation back toward the job.
After sharing preliminary details of the mission and haggling a rough price, the two adventurers made their way downstairs. Before they left the pawnshop, Higslaff went over to the narrow window and opened it. Snix, he thought. Higslaff preferred spoken words over mental communication, whenever possible. Now wasn’t the time. Follow them, and stay close enough that you can listen to what they say about the job. He glanced at the cloudy sky. But be careful if you have to follow them into a building. Not only is there the enchanted crystal. He bit his lower lip in frustration. The gnome, I think, can smell you.
<Got it, Boss.>
Just as Snix was squeezing through the narrow third floor window and preparing to take flight, Higslaff added, The elf maiden is a magic user with a familiar. A blue jay.
Snix mentally hissed acknowledgement and launched into flight.