Ivish's sharp gaze pierced through the dimly lit room, scrutinizing Amukelo as he stood resolutely before her. Her demeanor held a mix of skepticism and curiosity, a leader used to weighing the motives of those who sought her out. "Very well," she finally conceded, her voice steady, "I can see you're not here to waste my time." She paused, her one visible eye narrowing slightly. "But that doesn't automatically grant you what you seek, kid. First off, why do you want this artifact? What's your purpose?"
Amukelo's response was direct, his voice firm despite the oppressive atmosphere. "To avenge my friends," he replied, meeting her intense gaze without flinching.
"And who is it that you want to kill?" Ivish pressed on, her interest evidently piqued.
"One of the commanders of the Nameless Dynasty. Neclord White," Amukelo answered, his tone laced with a cold determination.
Ivish paused at this, her expression unreadable for a moment. "They are valuable customers of ours," she finally said, her voice low, tinged with caution. After another moment, she leaned in closer to Amukelo, her presence imposing. "Can you assure me that you won't let it slip that you used this artifact to track him? Our dealings require discretion."
"I can," Amukelo responded without hesitation, his resolve clear.
Ivish stepped back, a chuckle escaping her as she studied Amukelo's unwavering stance. "I like you, kid," she admitted with a grin, though her expression sobered as quickly as it had lightened. "But be warned—if you screw this up and jeopardize our relationship with the Dynasty, liking you won't be enough to save you. You'd need to make it worth our while, financially and otherwise, should things go south."
Amukelo nodded understandingly, showing no signs of intimidation. "Understood."
"Good," Ivish continued, still smiling. "Now, onto the last issue—do you have the funds for this artifact?" she asked, her tone suggesting she doubted his financial capability.
Without a word, Amukelo reached into his cloak and produced several bags filled with gold coins, placing them in front of her. "If this isn't enough, I can get more," he stated confidently.
Ivish's eyebrows raised in surprise as she peered at the bags. "Didn't expect you'd be this prepared. How did you come by all this?"
"We completed many quests. They pay well for a skilled team," Amukelo began, his voice catching slightly as he added, "But now... " He paused, struggling to continue, the weight of his loss momentarily overcoming him.
Ivish's demeanor softened unexpectedly, her rugged features easing into a gentler expression. She stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Amukelo's shoulder. "I understand," she said quietly, her voice carrying a rare warmth. The informer, observing the exchange, looked on in astonishment, having never seen Ivish display such a personal touch.
After a prolonged moment, Ivish pulled a small, intricately carved artifact from a locked drawer. It shimmered with an eerie light as she laid it on the table between them. "This artifact is powerful and dangerous," she began, her voice low and serious. "It binds to your weapon temporarily, marking your target with an unbreakable trace. You must merge it with your weapon to activate its properties."
Amukelo listened intently as Ivish continued, "Once activated, strike your target. Remember, the attack must not be lethal; the artifact activates upon contact but is nullified by the death of the target. This feature allows the artifact to be used multiple times, which is another reason it is so heavily regulated and illegal."
She held up the artifact, showing it to Amukelo. "Every use wears down the artifact slightly. A crack will form for each use, and it will detach from your weapon upon fulfilling its purpose or failing. Should the latter happen, you cannot retrieve it unless the marked target dies by other means."
Ivish's eyes narrowed as she added a crucial detail. "Don't make this your primary weapon's permanent addition. The artifact's trace is distracting; it continuously reveals the target's location, which can be disorienting and invasive. Use it wisely and sparingly."
After explaining the use, she placed the artifact back in the drawer and locked it. "Bring the same amount again, and it's yours. You won't need an escort next time; just come directly here." She gestured dismissively to the informer.
Amukelo nodded in understanding, his mind racing with the possibilities and dangers the artifact presented. He thanked Ivish for her explanation and assurances, then turned to leave with the informer.
As they walked back through the disturbing 'street', passing by the unsettling sights of human misery and depravity, Amukelo couldn't help but comment on his unexpected encounter, "I didn't expect her to be such a nice person. Given how messed up this place is, I thought she'd be far worse."
The informer chuckled lightly, a sound that seemed out of place in the grim surroundings. "Neither did I. I've dealt with Ivish many times, but never have I seen her show such... humanity. Consider yourself lucky, kid. She obviously sees something in you."
Once they left the black market, Amukelo and the informer separated and went in their directions. Amukelo decided to get back to his room, to try to get some sleep.
The night enveloped Amukelo as he lay in the bed of his room, the darkness mirroring the depth of his fatigue and emotional turmoil. The past days' events replayed in his mind with vivid, relentless clarity—the flames consuming his friends' belongings, the horrific underbelly of Llyn, and the echoes of their last moments. Sleep eluded him, as every attempt to close his eyes brought back the gruesome images of Bral's violent end and Pao's self-sacrifice. Her words echoed in his ears, her face distorted in his mind by the landwyrm's fatal strike. It was near dawn when exhaustion finally overcame him, pulling him into a restless slumber that lasted only a few short hours.
Waking up just before noon, Amukelo felt the weight of his unfinished business pressing down on him. He checked his remaining funds—six bags of gold coins—ensuring he had enough to acquire the tracking artifact and anything else that might aid his quest for vengeance. Resolute to not head into danger unprepared, he set out to gather essential supplies. He stocked up on various tools that might come in handy, additional water bags to ensure he if one was damaged he'd have a spare one, combat potions for quick healing, and herbs to treat minor ailments that didn't warrant a potion. Despite considering it, he decided against upgrading his armor; the potential improvement didn't justify the cost, given the high quality of his current gear.
With his preparations complete, Amukelo made his way to the pub to meet with his informer. The streets of Llyn carried on as usual, oblivious to the dark currents flowing beneath the surface. Inside the dimly lit pub, he found his informer waiting, the man's face bearing news.
"Neclord White is back in Llyn," the informer divulged, his voice low. "He's not alone, he has a company of about fifty. They're scouring the town for you, ready to break any rule to find you."
Amukelo's heart pounded with a mix of fury and anticipation. The prospect of confronting Neclord White here, on his own turf, provided a cold comfort. "They don't know I'm still in town?" he confirmed, to which the informer nodded.
"Exactly," the informer replied. "You've got the element of surprise for now, but you'll need to be cautious. They're determined and won't hesitate to strike in public if they spot you."
A grim smile touched Amukelo's lips. The opportunity to avenge his friends in Llyn meant he could honor their memories without delay. He thanked the informer and left the pub.