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“That Josie took her sweet time telling us the dwarf didn’t have the leprechaun’s coin,” Kirby complained in a harsh whisper. While they’d been hiding the dwarf’s corpse in the alley so it wouldn’t be immediately found, the cute female thief working for Josiah found the party and warned them. About twenty minutes too late.
Ron and Derek were in the hall outside the party’s Glade House room. One waited while the other used the chamber pot in what could be called, in the broadest sense, the bathroom. Stephi was on the Glade House’s roof, Camouflage Spell up and watching for any possible trouble coming their way, unlikely as that might be. Ron believed an additional ninety minutes of vigilance would suffice.
Glenn, sitting in their rented room with Kirby, frowned before replying. “She had the City Guard patrol chasing her.” He didn’t have to explain how bad things would’ve gone if the guards showed up in the middle of the alley fight. His friend was frustrated and annoyed, and just venting.
Glenn’s shoulder ached where some of Kirby’s transferred wounds hadn’t been fully healed. Instead of sleeping on Stephi’s bunk, he decided to sleep in his normal spot under the bunk. Nowhere near comfortable as his dorm room’s bed, or his one at home. Not even close.
Derek was at Josiah’s barber shop. He was there to find out what he could about last night’s events, and get the magical tooth implanted.
After Kirby pulled Benxcob’s enchanted smoky-white crystal molar, it returned to an incisor shape. Derek volunteered to chance the magical implant without having it identified, especially since the party really didn’t have much spare gold. Plus, Derek already had a missing tooth and, compared to everyone in the party, he ate the most.
Ron suggested that Josiah might assist emplacing the tooth, and also might possess a method to match it to the enamel of Derek’s teeth.
Glenn, Kirby, and Ron sat on the porch to Higslaff’s pawnshop. Stephi reclined inside the creel basked carried by Kirby. Petie kept watch from atop a roof across the street. They intended to be the first “customers” in the shop as it opened, and eliminate any chance someone might purchase the leprechaun’s gold coin—if the pawnshop owner intended to sell it.
Glenn had suggested they go to the barber shop a couple hours before sunrise and try to get Josiah out of bed, and find out where Higslaff lived. Both Kirby and Ron nixed that idea. So now they waited. It was almost as bad as sitting in the Blue Bugle, waiting for Benxcob to arrive and Josie to point him out.
Stephi warned everyone before leaving that the pawnshop owner was a selfish jerk and wouldn’t give them the coin. He’d want something outrageous for it.
What choice did they have, except to find out? Deep down, Glenn thought it’d be sort of funny if Kirby had to pull out Derek’s new tooth, if they needed it for a trade.
The three got plenty of stares from merchants and workers moving down the street. Kirby munched on an apple and Ron kept busy scribing something into one of his small, leather-bound journals. Normally he jotted maps, directions, significant historical or current people, and bits of odd information that might be useful in the future. Glenn sometimes listened to him recite pages to Derek, since the warrior couldn’t read.
That was almost as boring as reading the listed facts. But Glenn took the time to review new notes every few days. Better to be informed and safe than ignorant and sorry.
Bonnar, a stout dwarf warrior, was the first pawnshop employee to approach. His job was internal security, and he sat upon a short stool all day. He had piercing blue eyes and a thick brown beard that did little to mask a perpetual frown. The war hammer he carried sort of looked like Benxcob’s.
Glenn didn’t know much about weapons. Closer inspection as the dwarf climbed the porch steps showed the etching on the shaft and leather grip were different from Benxcob’s. Bonnar’s chainmail armor appeared in pristine condition despite having endured a Fireblast Spell, a spell which slew its wearer.
Ron was already standing, with Glenn and Kirby scrambling to get to their feet.
“Bonnar, sir,” Ron said.
The dwarf slowed. Something he appeared unaccustomed to doing, but the party had helped kill an assassination party attacking the pawnshop.
“Yah,” the dwarf warrior said.
“If perchance, Higslaff is already within his shop, would you mention our desire to meet with him at his earliest convenience?”
Bonnar eyed the gnome, half-goblin and quarter-elf and nodded once. “Yah.” Then he turned, produced a key from a pocket and opened the door. Before closing it, he carried out a chair and placed it next to the door.
Glenn knew two things. First, the door had a slot for a wooden bar to secure the door from the inside. Second, the chair was for the outside guard, Thogg, a broad-shouldered half-ogre brute.
Even before the three sat back down, Kirby said, “There’s the porch guard.”
Thogg approached using lumbering strides that somehow suggested latent nimbleness. He carried his large battle axe resting across his shoulder. The half-ogre’s angular face was anything but handsome and his thick leather armor was a size or two too small, making his muscles appear even larger. His long strides made up for the less than determined pace. His seven-and-a-half foot height encouraged others to step aside.
“Good morning, dude,” Kirby said, quirking a half smile.
Thogg didn’t use the two steps to climb atop the porch. His size made them unnecessary. He leaned his axe against the wall next to the sturdy wooden chair and plopped down. “I hate mornings.” He stretched out his legs and shot Kirby a tusky-toothed grin.
Kirby said, “All I got to say about that, dude, is I hope the day ain’t too hot.”
The half-ogre guard died during the attack on the pawnshop, too. A sneak magical attack took him out. The owner had to have paid thousands and thousands of gold coins to get both him and the dwarf guard Revived.
Ron leaned out from under the porch, checked the sky, and then squinted at the intimidating guard. “I suspect today’s top temperature will be nearly identical to yesterday’s peak temperature. However, I would not be surprised if there is a stronger presence of cumulus cloud formations by late afternoon.”
Thogg scratched his blunt nose. “Druid, huh?” In addition to security, he was sort of a screener, allowing only those who had legitimate business into the pawnshop.
Ron tipped his head in acknowledgment. “So I have been trained.”
“Druids are good,” Thogg said. Another grin creased his angular face, which didn’t seem possible, or at least not common.
A long moment of silence followed.
To fill the conversational void, Kirby asked, “How long you been working for Higslaff?”
The half-ogre looked Kirby up and down. “The boss won’t hire you.”
Kirby laughed. To Glenn it sounded uncomfortable.
“Good thing I’m not looking for a job,” Kirby said. He placed his hands on his hips and rotated his shoulders, as if trying to remove a crick from his back. “No doubt, he’s a good dude to work for.”
“How long until the shop opens?” Glenn asked.
“When Coleen Sammae opens door, shop opens.”
Glenn refrained from rolling his eyes. Giving the big guard a reason to kick him off the porch, or worse, didn’t seem like a good idea.
“We arrived quite some time ago,” Ron said. “We witnessed Bonnar arrive and place your chair. At that time I requested that he let your boss know we hoped to meet with him upon his shop opening.”
“You selling, pawning or buying?” He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “Or you looking for a job?”
Ron shook his head. “We are here to inquire about an item we believe your boss is in possession of. None of us are seeking employment.”
Glenn wondered if Coleen Sammae arrived for work early, or if there was a back door, or if Higslaff slept in his office or some other room in the building.
Before he had time to consider, the shop’s front door opened. Coleen Sammae leaned out. She was an enchantress, a little past middle-aged with her graying hair wrapped in a bun. She wore a long cotton dress, gray with turquoise buttons. She also wore turquoise earrings and a large turquoise pendant on a woven silver chain. The last time they’d seen her she’d worn a white silk blouse and black leather trousers stuffed into calf-high boots, along with gold and rubies.
She handed Thogg a wooden mug and a wedge of pale orange cheese, and said to him, “We’re open.”
Glenn smelled the scent of lemon tea in the cup. The cheese was a mild sort, if he accurately interpreted the odor.
The enchantress observed the party. “Higslaff will see you.”
Kirby picked up the basket containing Stephi before following Ron and Glenn into the shop.
Glenn’s nose detected a hint of something burnt, an aftereffect of the Fireblast attack two weeks past. The shelves appeared identical to those previously in the shop. They were probably the same ones, but much of the merchandise on those shelves was different. Behind the back counter, however, the fancy-inscribed trident still hung on the wall.
On the stool in the corner, where Bonnar normally sat, a boy with hair the color of damp straw sat, erect and alert. It was Vernie, the shop owner’s nephew. Normally he cleaned and ran errands. At the moment he clutched a sheathed dagger and his brown eyes appeared eager to pull it. Eager to show he knew how to use it.
Good for him, Glenn thought, until he runs up against someone higher than first rank.
Coleen Sammae led them to the oak display counter along the back of the shop. She lifted a hinged portion near the middle. Then she gripped a section of the shelf that was mounted on the front of a concealed door, and pushed it open.
“You know the way to the stairs to the boss’s office,” she said to Ron. “I’ll follow you up.” As the party members passed her, she turned and said to Vernie, “Watch sharp. I shall return in a moment. Two at most.”
Ron led Glenn and Kirby through the storage room to the stairs that took them up to Higslaff’s office. Glenn observed that the storage room’s shelves were nearly empty. It made sense since the fire attack destroyed many of the items displayed in the main room. The attack was an opening move in a thieves’ guild conflict. Kirby called it a low-grade guild war.
Higslaff’s office was on the second floor. It held a sturdy, utilitarian desk which didn’t resemble anything like the polished oak counters and shelves in the display area on the floor below.
Higslaff sat behind his desk. He was a man approaching the far end of middle age. He wore Victorian-type leathers, and a bowler hat, complete with a set of goggles with a magical jeweler’s double eye loupe mounted on them. Glenn had seen steampunk cosplay outfits before, and Higslaff’s wardrobe wasn’t too far off. The shop owner was closer to stocky than thin, and about as tall as Ron. Not only did he appear confident and able to handle himself, he had no qualms about taking a sword into a fight. At the moment, he only wore a dagger on his hip.
The loupe on the goggles enabled the shop owner to detect enchantments, as well as accurately estimate the quality and value of gemstones.
Behind the desk stood a narrow window too small for even the most anorexic of goblin thieves to squeeze through. Shelves with scrolls, books, unused quills and small urns containing ink filled the wall around the single window. As with all of the pawnshop’s rooms, magical light provided illumination.
To the left of the owner’s desk, as he faced the stairs, along the adjacent wall stood a long work table. Next to that table, on a padded stool, sat Bonnar. His war hammer rested on the table, within easy reach.
Bonnar was present for a bit of steel and muscle, and intimidation. That was pretty obvious to Glenn.
Three stools sat arranged in front of the desk. Ron took the center stool, while Kirby climbed on to the left. Ron placed a foot on one of the right-hand stool’s crossbars, enabling Glenn to climb onto it.
Kirby set the creel basket on the corner of the desk, to which Higslaff said nothing. Instead he gave the three men a casual smile. “It is my understanding that you wanted to meet with me.”
Ron leaned forward an inch or two. “That is correct. It is our understanding that you came into possession of a certain gold coin during a poker engagement last night at the Blue Bugle.”
Higslaff leaned back in his chair. “In the course of my success at the table, I did come into possession of a gold coin with latent enchantments that have yet to be determined.”
Ron reached into a pocket, which caused Bonnar to tense. Glenn wasn’t happy about being closest to the dwarven security guard. He was glad he’d healed himself up and Ron had used one of his Minor Cure Spells on Kirby.
“Might it resemble this coin?” Ron placed the copper coin provided by Bata Fidil on the desk.
Higslaff leaned forward and picked up the coin. He examined it. “Looks identical, except for the type of metal.” Placed the coin back on the desk and slid it across the desk so that it stopped in front of Ron. “How’d you learn I had this coin?”
Ron picked up the coin and placed it back into his pocket. “An associate of the former owner indicated you won it while engaged in a poker game.”
“What did the obnoxious dwarf have to say?”
“He indicated he no longer had possession of the coin we sought.”
Higslaff quirked a thick eyebrow. “Were those his last words?”
“I do not believe so,” Ron said. “Why do you ask?”
Kirby cut in, saying, “Cuss words. After I informed him his mom was so ugly she lost a beauty contest to a medusa.”
Ron glared at Kirby. The thief rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s not like he doesn’t know.”
“Might you relinquish the gold coin to us?” Ron asked.
Glenn hadn’t ever played Monsters, Maces and Magic, but he knew the answer to that. Under similar circumstances, a pawnshop owner would laugh in the face of anyone who asked that. Glenn even told Ron that, but the druid warrior said that it wouldn’t hurt to ask first.
“I am hard pressed to understand why I should,” Higslaff said. “I won it at great risk of losing much of value.”
“Dude,” Kirby said, scoffing. “You won it by cheating.”
The pawnshop owner cocked his head back in disbelief. “Why would you say that?”
Kirby pointed to Higslaff. “You got your sources.” Then he pointed to himself. “I got mine.”
Glenn held a straight face, wondering if Kirby’s bluff would work on the accomplished poker player. Or maybe he wasn’t so accomplished without things weighted in his direction.
After a few long seconds Higslaff tipped his head in equivocation. “Let’s just say that the coin’s previous owner was cheating simply by virtue of carrying the subtly enchanted item. He lost that advantage when he threw it in the pot after I raised.” Higslaff raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands palms up, effecting a look of exasperated innocence. “What could be done but to turn the tables on him, so to speak, to balance things out?”
“Could be done?” Glenn asked. Like Kirby, the gnome healer didn’t feel very diplomatic. “How about letting us know so we didn’t almost get killed.” Glenn made an educated guess. “Josiah convinced you to invite Benxcob into the poker game, and you knew why.”
“It was Josiah’s operation, not mine,” Higslaff said, a hint of annoyance rising in his voice. “If there were problems with contingencies, take it up with him.”
Ron interjected in a steady, quiet voice, “It is imperative we that we gain possession of that coin.”
“Why is it imperative?” Higslaff asked.
Kirby stood, throwing his hand up in the air. “Dude, we saved your sorry ass hardly two weeks ago.”
Bonnar reached for his weapon. A small shake of the pawnshop owner’s head called the dwarf off.
“That you did, but it wasn’t exactly, shall we say, an altruistic measure.” He nodded toward Glenn. “Jax here, and the warrior, Kalgore? They became involved because they believed the rest of their party was in danger.”
Higslaff noticed the basket on his desk jiggle just a bit.
“But we didn’t have to help you fight in the street!” Kirby barely kept his voice restrained. “We did anyway!”
Ron put a hand on the half-goblin thief’s shoulder, keeping him seated on the stool.
The pawnshop owner clasped his hands together. “That is why I am meeting with you, here and now, without an appointment.”
Kirby rolled his eyes. “Save your shop and your ass, and that gets a meeting without calling ahead for an appointment?”
Higslaff looked at Kirby, a little confused. “Again, I ask, why do you want the coin?”
Stephi, apparently tired of laying curled up in the basket, remaining quiet, lifted the lid and stood. “Because,” she said, “the leprechaun who did this to me wants his coin back before he’ll turn me back.”
Maybe Josiah had told Higslaff, because Stephi popping up, like some sort of fairy-in-the-basket magic trick, didn’t throw him off, much. That didn’t mean her 19.5 Appearance Score and scaled-down epic chest didn’t have an impact.
Her appearance, however, very much surprised Bonnar, as evidenced by his unfinished question, “Wha...?”
All Glenn could think was: That won’t benefit the dwarf guard during his next employee evaluation.
“What do ya want for the coin?” Kirby asked, clearly frustrated. “You already know we ain’t got a lot of coin to buy it.”
“I don’t suppose you have the dwarf’s hammer?” Hisglaff asked.
“That, we do not possess,” Ron said.
“We got his enchanted tooth,” Kirby said, working to keep his temper. He might be pissed off more at Rex than at Higslaff. “Ya want that?”
Sensing there might be trouble, Bonnar was on his feet, hammer in hand.
Glenn shifted in his stool and unslung his shield. He figured pulling his cudgel would escalate things toward a fight. But pulling a shield might do enough to let the warrior dwarf know Glenn and his party meant business. Even so, he didn’t have the size or intimidating sneer Derek did. It was unlikely any gnomes in the game world ever possessed the likes of that.
Higslaff gestured a hand for Bonnar to stay where he was. Then he leaned back in his chair, adjusted his hat, and proffered a sincere smile. “Let’s all take a brief moment to relax.”
“Agreed,” Ron said. Surprisingly, to urge compliance, the warrior druid was forced to stare down Stephi and her fluttering wings longer than he did Kirby.
When everyone managed to slow their breathing, and maybe their heart rate, Higslaff said, “I have a proposal.”
He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the edge of his desk. “One where I’ll extract a measure of revenge, and you, my friends, will gain a measure of payback in the process.” He rubbed his hands together like what he was about to say excited him. “And you will earn possession of the leprechaun’s enchanted coin.”
Anything but mollified, Kirby remarked, “Ain’t none of us your friend.”
Even if true, Glenn didn’t have to make a Diplomacy Roll to realize Kirby’s words did more to alienate than to endear.
Ron added, “Your machinations have steered us from the amiable path to true friendship, toward a more adversarial business relationship.”
“Understood,” Higslaff said, unconcerned. After that, he revealed his proposal.
Negotiations began.