"And so you come to me?" I had to incline my head to not find the mug this shorty of an innkeeper swung around land on my forehead squarely.
"For information," I swear he was repressing a peal of laughter real bad. "I know as much about youth as you carefully read unmistakable signs."
He'd lost me. Ogling that empty mug, I motioned for him to shake me my favourite. "What are you talking about anyway, Spice."
"What you failed to recognise." "Which is...?" "Your betrayal hit hard, right where it hurts. Most would love to skin you scale by nasty scale. Their reasons may vary, as you can imagine."
Spice grabbed an empty glass, turning it round and round as even the most imaginary speck of dust was wrung off it.
Looking up and down at the lonely counter, I ascertained myself of the disinterest of the few rugged customers he had even at this late hour, and of the youth's peaceful slumber.
Only her breathing kept me from madly shaking her awake. That was another piece of information I so sorely lacked.
When was there danger bearing its stealthy fangs, and when could I relax? It was exactly that question tormenting me the most.
Indeed, what I had to go through after picking up that... summoner I found myself bound to was some real nightmarish stuff.
"My decision back then saved your asses. At least you must recognise this." "That I do," Spice countered, on his face a mighty scowl, "but!
You live a dangerous life. I'm certain your presence here reaches their ears before you get ahold of yourself and these many shattered pieces you call essence.
Hell, even your soul is a container so leaky I'm feeling drunk merely standing beside you." I wrestled with the truth in his words, ultimately finding that he was right.
Apart from my obvious injuries inviting all that knew of my state, I had another problem too. Their uses for my rare shell were as plentiful as the stars up in the nightly sky outside this dilapidated shack Spice dared call a saloon.
"Hey, I know you know what I'd presume you know." "...what?" Mixing a hundred ingredients together, it was a real sight to behold how masterfully succinct each gesture was.
Spice didn't linger a second longer than absolutely necessary to mix me my favourite shot, a very long, very rich Commonwealth.
It was funny seeing his sorry mug literally screaming *you've lost me*. "I hope to borrow your bolt hole. Need go somewhere they won't catch wind of me.
In truth, that's only another reason to escape this war-riddled place. This one," and I pointed my razor-sharp finger at the bundle I kept near me for all this time, "is too frail."
It was far easier to take stock of which few situations wouldn't put her in danger than the other way around.
"So are you." My pride got the better of me, so I asked, "what was that?" Naturally, Spice spared me the details, so I could pretend he never said anything in the first place and calm down.
Childish, but I simply couldn't eradicate my past. No matter how ridiculously low I've fallen since then.
"And I want to borrow something." "Of course you do. Noxins. A helluva lot. That and the secret path out of here shall cost you, though. And it won't come cheap"
The grin on my face froze. On second thought, it was rather evident he'd ask for something in return. "Name your price," I groaned, ready to spit blood.
So he smiled ominously, "how much do you know about local money?" "Nothing," I answered, confused. Grabbing the extra long shot of Commonwealth, I gulped it down in one sitting.
"That ain't my problem anyway." "Of course it is," Spice replied slowly, his grin spreading. "No... you?" That was quite something alright. "But I have items I could—" "Sell?"
He chuckled. "Yes, you can. But which damn creature here doesn't misuse any one gadget you hoard? I don't want to lose this beautiful place to your stupidity or theirs."
How Spice recognised a lovable home in the stinking bolthole was impossible for me to comprehend.
I'd have cracked this piece of Midgard and be gone to other realms. I could choose from so many fragments out there, so could he. But then again, it wasn't me that had to live here.
I *was* on my way out. Calming my nerves with such thoughts, I barely heard his next string of explanations. Something about how quintessential money was in this place.
About the underground forces that would surely welcome a volunteer for their freak show. About which other places promised heaps of money within a reasonable time.
Spice even told me straight that the local nobles didn't look upon him kindly, so he had to remain here, hidden. That was ridiculous and I sure as hell knew he was aware of that too.
But the lie stood as I didn't point it out and he also failed to fess up to his real reasons. I only knew I'd believe if he told me this was but a game.
And when I was about to snap, Spice told me he knew of a person who could provide me with the information I so sorely lacked. So, my choice was evident.
In the end, I even had to promise I would gather funds the honest way so he could then later squander them to his enjoyment.
What a crooked plan! So utterly... dirty. I loved it. And the idea I got. There was this monthly arena tournament for the desperate just around the corner.
Apparently, the last day for registration too, if I understood the distant passersby correctly. Believing I'd also get an outlet for my aggressions for free on top of generous prizemoney, it wasn't hard to convince myself of this idea.
The earlier I rid myself of this place, the better. And so came I left the couple of streets behind me where even urchins didn't deign to crap, ready to jump straight into the waiting crowd at whose end I'd get my hands on a registration badge.
Now it wouldn't be long before I could snap some bones in a friendly spar. The troublemaker in my arms roused and many unkind eyes landed on me, their unbeatable competition.
That was when I got a bad feeling. With the youth stuck to me, maybe... just maybe... this wasn't such a bright idea.
But Spice was already preparing back the way I came from. If I couldn't deliver his riches safely and on time, he for sure wouldn't me either. Plus information... I had to grit my teeth.