They walked out of the mansion, quickly departing from the centre. Argon didn't feel comfortable there, he had become acclimatised to the shit-filled streets of the slums, and this, this was a step much too far. As Argon and Brolan make their way back through the bustling streets of the merchant quarter, their conversation flows as freely as the river Serrin.
"Can you believe this, Brolan?" Argon begins, an undertone of excitement in his voice, "We're in the employ of a Baron! We're living the Dream, lazing about all day and fornicating with the peasant girls!"
Brolan chuckles, adjusting the large pouch of coins at his side, "Dream? More like a strange twist of fate. But yeah, it'll probably be more work than you think but we've come a long way from the pits, that's for sure."
Argon then looks at the bronze ring, tracing the coiled serpent with his thumb, "What do you think about this Baron Eldrige? And that knight, Garrick?"
"Baron Eldrige? I've never seen any other noble, I suppose, full of pomp and circumstance. But Garrick... now that's a serious fucker. You could learn a lot from him, Argon. And that might just be the real treasure in all this."
Their conversation continues as they wind through the streets, filled with excitement, trepidation, and the thrill of the unknown. But both know no matter what challenges lay ahead, they'd face them together.
"God above, Brolan!" Argon exclaims, a wide grin spreading across his face. "We've got enough gold here to drown a bloody king. I'm thinking we get you an artefact, and I grab the last healing one for myself."
Brolan furrows his brows, his head slightly cocked to the side, "Artefact? People have been babbling about that a couple of times. What's that all about?"
Argon chuckles, patting Brolan on the shoulder. "You're in this life now, brother; you need to know. Artefacts, they're like... pieces of the God, I guess. They can give you strength, enhance attributes, healing... all you can dream of, really."
Brolan's eyes widen slightly. "So, it's like... magic?"
Argon nods, his eyes serious. "Magic is evil, don't speak of it. Artefacts are ancient technology. But it's not all fun and games, Brolan. Artefacts demand a price. They require life force, essence, to operate. I need that healing one, as I've got the other two. I'd be a fool not to take all advantages offered to me, and I'll tank hits with the healing one."
Brolan, silent for a moment, finally nods, "Alright, Argon. Whatever you say. I couldn't say no even if I wanted to, right?"
Argon grins at him, his smile wide, "That's the spirit, Brolan. Yes, we are together until the end."
As they continue their trek back to the apartment, Argon can't help but notice the slight look of confusion on Brolan's face. He knows his friend hasn't fully grasped the concept of artefacts or their true power. The world of the artefacts is intricate and immense; a world Brolan was only just stepping into.
Brolan, in his own thoughts, marvels at his luck. To have a master like Argon, who was not only a friend but was willing to invest in him - that was rare. He didn't yet comprehend the true rarity of artefacts nor the significance of Argon's willingness to provide him with one. However, he understood one thing quite clearly - Argon cared for him a great deal. And for now, that was all that mattered.
Charles's shop was bustling when Argon and Brolan arrived. The space was filled with a myriad of people; all engrossed in their own world of haggling and inspecting. A wealthy merchant, draped in silken robes, was inspecting a small collection of cores with a shrewd eye, haggling aggressively with one of Charles's assistants. On the other side of the room, a gangly young knight was shyly handing over a pouch of gold coins, his eyes filled with awe as he was handed a small, intricately carved statue. An older woman, her face lined with age and wisdom, was deep in conversation with another assistant, a range of options spread out before her.
The waiting wasn't too tedious for Argon and Brolan. Argon leaned against a wall, watching the transactions with an amused grin, while Brolan found a spot near a window and quietly observed the busy streets outside. It took nearly an hour for the shop to clear, the customers leaving one by one, each carrying their new purchases with a sense of satisfaction.
Finally, Charles approached them, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Well, how did it go?" he asked, leaning against the counter.
Argon grinned at him, a hint of triumph in his eyes. "We have a new job," he declared, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Fantastic!" Charles exclaims, genuinely delighted. "Time to repay the favour, then?" Argon says, Charles' eyes narrowing slightly in amusement as he registers Argon's meaning.
Argon nods. "Artefacts," he affirms.
Charles chuckles and leans back, the creak of the chair filling the quiet store. "You know," he starts, his eyes meeting Argon's, "not everyone, even with the money, can buy an artefact. So, do keep in mind who is doing whom a favour here."
Argon nods in understanding; there is no denying the truth in Charles's words. Charles then shifts his gaze towards Brolan. "Will the slave be waiting here?"
Argon shakes his head. "He'll come with."
Charles simply nods, stands from his chair and moves towards a curtained-off section behind the counter. The fabric rustles as he pushes it aside and gestures for the pair to follow him into the back room.
Once all of them were inside, Argon immediately said, "I'll take the healing AND attribute one."
Argon's request catches Charles off guard. The healing Artefact was understandable; after all, in their line of work, having something to mend wounds was invaluable. But another Attribute artefact? He already owned one, so Charles finds himself blurting out, "Another attribute one? But you already have..."
"I'm going to have Brolan use it," Argon interrupts, his gaze unwavering.
Charles' eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, he's speechless. A slave... with an artefact? He shakes his head in disbelief. "You're giving an artefact to a slave?" he finally manages to stammer out. The mere idea of it was unheard of.
"Imagine," Charles muses aloud, "if the Seric knights knew their most prized possessions would be wielded by a slave." There's a hint of amusement in his tone, mixed with sheer disbelief. But he doesn't question Argon further. If he's willing to invest such a fortune in his slave, it is his decision to make. The unconventional choice only adds to the intrigue surrounding the man who walked into his store all those weeks ago.
Charles couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as Argon counted out the hefty sum of gold. For someone who had appeared at his door not too long ago, seeming nothing more than a wandering warrior, Argon was spending money as though he were a noble himself. The merchant found himself wondering where all this wealth was coming from, but he knew better than to ask. It wasn't his place to probe into his customer's business.
Seeing Argon's hand reluctantly part with the mountain of coins, Charles felt a twinge of sympathy. That amount of gold could change a commoner's life, yet here it was, being exchanged for a couple of artefacts. As Charles handed over the artefacts, Argon's gaze shifted to the dwindling supply.
"You've sold another one?" Argon asked, noting the decreased number.
Charles nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "Selling an artefact brings a lot of goodwill, my friend. Nobles are always keen to add to their collections, and they're the only ones who can afford it," Charles explained, leaning back in his chair.
"Adventurers occasionally buy one as well, but that's after saving up for years." Charles paused for a moment before adding, "They're considered somewhat of a joke in high society... I mean, risking their lives in the wild for years to afford something that a noble could buy on a whim."
Argon grunted in response, turning the artefacts over in his hand. The world was a cruel place where wealth meant power. But he was starting to carve his own path through it, one artefact at a time.
Argon and Brolan thanked Charles and made their way back to their apartment. The journey back was quiet; both men were lost in their thoughts about the newly acquired artefacts.
Once inside their apartment, Argon turned to his companion with a broad grin on his face. "Welcome to the club, Brolan. You're now one of the select few who can claim to hold an artefact."
Brolan simply nodded, his expression unreadable. He stared at the Artefact in his hand as if it were a dangerous creature, something he wasn't sure he wanted to touch.
Argon continued, his voice a gentle but firm command, "Now, I need you to cut your finger and bleed onto the artefact."
Brolan looked up sharply, confusion clouding his features. However, seeing Argon's serious expression, he didn't question him. Argon pulled out his own Artefact, the healing one, and made a small incision on his fingertip. A bead of crimson blood welled up, slowly trailing down to drip onto the surface of the Artefact.
Following suit, Brolan took a deep breath, drew his own blade, and mirrored Argon's actions. His eyes were focused, the intensity of the moment not lost on him. As his blood fell onto the Artefact, it shimmered and absorbed the life essence, bonding itself to Brolan.
For a moment, the apartment was silent save for their combined breaths. The gravity of their actions hung heavy in the air, creating an almost palpable sense of anticipation. They were not just warriors anymore; they were now artefact bearers, a rarity in their world, a symbol of prestige and power.
Having completed the bonding process, Argon carefully removed his helmet. The interior now held a trio of artefacts, each nestled snugly next to the other. With meticulous care, he nestled the new healing artefact into the space between the other two, the helmet now humming with newfound power.
Turning to Brolan, he said, "You'll need to keep your Artefact out of sight. We don't want anyone getting suspicious."
Taking a spare piece of leather from a pouch on his belt, Argon handed it to Brolan. Brolan, with his deft fingers, worked the material into a simple necklace. He looped it around the circular disk Artefact several times and tied it securely around his neck, tucking it under his tunic to conceal it.
"Remember, this is our secret," Argon instructed, his gaze serious as he locked eyes with Brolan. "This gives us an edge, and we can't afford to lose that advantage."
Brolan nodded in understanding; the significance of the situation appeared on his face. They had entered a new chapter in their lives, one filled with power, mystery, and intrigue. It was a path they would walk together, their fates intertwined in their shared secret.
"Here's what you need to know about this artefact, Brolan," Argon began, his eyes holding a grave seriousness. "It's called an Attribute Amplifier. When you activate it, it amplifies your physical attributes by three times. Strength, speed, resilience - everything gets multiplied. But remember, it only lasts for an hour."
Brolan's eyes widened, the enormity of what Argon was saying sinking in. An hour of tripled strength could mean the difference between life and death in a fight, between success and failure in a mission.
"And how do I activate it?" Brolan asked, a touch of awe creeping into his voice.
"Bleed on it," Argon replied simply. "But its only once a day, so be sparing with its use. There's no way of knowing when we might need it the most. And you don't want to get dependent on it. Always remember, it's a tool, not a crutch."
Brolan nodded, looking down at the Artefact concealed under his tunic. The power at his fingertips felt surreal, and he knew that it would take some time to truly grasp what he was now capable of.