Rune and I exchanged a quick glance before moving cautiously toward the source of the commotion. The shouting came from a small, unassuming building next door. The windows suggested it had seen better days—rundown and dilapidated. A bald man in his late forties stood in front of the door, wielding an axe. His torn-up jacket and messy tie, along with his hole-riddled pants, painted a picture of a man far past his prime. Despite his unassuming appearance, the axe in his hand made him a potential threat. He pounded on the door again, shouting, "I said get out here, Dante! You little shit, don't try to hide. I know you're in there. You owe me 50 gold! You can't keep getting away with this."
Part of me wanted to pretend I didn't see that—to turn a blind eye and move on. That's what I might have done a week ago. But things have changed. I'm not a saint, but I can't just ignore it. As I was about to make a move, the door creaked open. A small voice rang out, "I told you yesterday I need more time!"
The man grabbed the small person's suit and yanked him forward. "You listen here, boy. You have until the end of the day today to get me my money. I will be back." He threw the person to the ground, and I couldn't see their face, but it seemed like they hit hard. As the man stormed away, the axe still in hand, I approached the door.
On the ground lay a child, rubbing his head in pain. He muttered to himself, "Damn asshole, I don't have any customers right now." I spoke up, "Are you alright, kid?"
The boy looked up. He had yellow eyes and long black hair, dressed in a black suit with gold tassels and a long black cape. His tie was flopped onto his face, and his clothes were a mess from the throw. His reaction was almost comical. "I am not a kid!"
It was a typical child's protest, and I almost laughed. Some children are eager to grow up before they're ready. He saw my expression and scowled. "God damn it, have you not seen a hobbit before? I am probably older than you."
I blinked a couple of times, trying to process. I took a closer look at his badge; it read, Dante Silver, Official Attorney at Law. Rune, too, noticed the badge and looked just as shocked.
"Attorney at law? How old are you?" I asked.
Dante collected himself with a sigh. "I am 26 this year. I finally got my law degree, but nobody takes me seriously. Damn it."
I asked, "What was that about? Do you owe that guy money?"
Dante nodded sadly. "Yeah, his name is Hank. Hank the Hyena, as they call him. I borrowed money from that piece of work. Worst mistake I could have made. He's been up my ass for days now."
I pried a bit further. "Short on money, then?"
Dante nodded again. "Well, you're a prime example of why. Nobody wants a lawyer who looks like he just graduated middle school, even though I graduated top of my class."
He grumbled, clearly struggling, which made me think he could use a job. Rune nudged me, and we both saw the opportunity.
I smiled a bit devilishly. "We might have an offer for you."
Dante tilted his head. "An offer?"
I explained, "We'll help you pay off your debt in this town in exchange for an exclusive deal with me."
Dante looked confused. "Exclusive deal?"
I nodded. "You become my personal lawyer. I'll hire you into my party."
Dante scratched his chin, his yellow eyes narrowing in thought. "Your personal lawyer, huh? And what exactly does that entail? You don't look like the typical client, if you don't mind me saying."
I chuckled. "You're right. We're not exactly typical. We're a group of merchants, but our line of work sometimes skirts the edges of legality. We need someone sharp—someone who can handle contracts, navigate tricky legal waters, and maybe even do a little creative paperwork when needed."
Dante gave me a suspicious look. "Are you talking about forging documents?"
I nodded slowly. "Among other things. You help us, and we'll not only cover your debt but also ensure you're paid well for your skill. Plus, we could use someone like you. It's not just about staying out of trouble; it's about making sure no one can even touch us. What do you say?"
Dante's hesitation was clear as he looked back at his office—a bare-bones setup with a wooden desk, some chairs, and a lot of dusty paperwork and unpaid bills. He turned to us again. "I don't like the idea of forgery," he said plainly.
His reluctance was palpable, but so was his need. "I need the money, and it's not like I have many options right now. So, let's say I agree to your terms. I'll work for you, but I want to keep things as legal as possible. I'm not going to completely abandon my principles. I will give you a trial run."
I nodded, appreciating his stance. "Fair enough, Dante. We're not asking you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. We need someone to help us navigate the gray areas, but we won't force you to cross any lines you're not willing to. Deal?"
Dante glanced between Rune and me, then extended his hand. "Deal."
I shook his hand, sealing the agreement. "Welcome to the team, Dante. Let's get you out of this mess with Hank, and then we'll discuss your new role in more detail."
Dante asked, "Do you have the money to pay Hank? I owe him 50 gold, as you probably heard."
Rune chimed in professionally, "Let us worry about that. But first, let us introduce you to the others."
Dante nodded, though he still seemed unsure. "Alright, but I hope you know what you're doing. Hank's not the type to back down easily. We need to have his money by the end of the day."
When we arrived at the camp, Vice was cleaning her six-shooter, and Alice was quietly adjusting her hair into a ponytail. Her blind eyes turned toward our approach, while Jasmine was absorbed in one of my books. Vice was the first to speak up. "Who is the brat?"
I winced; I couldn't stop her from stepping on a landmine. Rune intervened, sensing my shock. "Everyone, this is Dante, the newest member of our party."
Dante, clearly still stung by Vice's comment, pointed at her. "I'm not a kid! I'm Dante Silver, an attorney. And I'm 26, for the record."
Vice snickered. "26? You couldn't pass for 14 in a middle school."
Dante stomped his feet. "Nope, I am not having this."
He turned away, prompting me to smooth things over. "Wait, Dante, she's like that with everyone. Please, we really do need your help."
Dante paused, his back still turned. He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. Rune stepped forward, his voice steady. "Dante, I know it's hard to believe, but Vice isn't trying to be cruel. She's just... blunt. She doesn't mean any harm."
Dante turned back around, his expression softening slightly. "Fine, but I'm not going to put up with being called a kid. I've worked too hard for that."
Jasmine approached Dante. "So you're a lawyer? Can we test him?"
Vice put down her gun, amused. "Yeah, Key, we should test the newbie to see how good he is."
I held up a hand to stop Vice. "We're not here to test him like some sort of toy, Vice. Dante's agreed to join us, and that's enough for now."
Vice shrugged, still amused. "Alright, alright. But I'm telling you, Key, if this guy's going to be our legal shield, we'd better make sure he's up to the task."
Rune offered, "Key, we could set up a mock trial right here. Not to test him, but to show the others why he's worth his weight in gold."
I considered the idea. A mock trial could be a good team exercise and a fun distraction. Dante had an official badge to defend the law, so this could be a good chance to prove he wasn't just a kid. I turned to Dante. "You up for it?"
Dante straightened his tie, regaining some of his dignity. "If it will get everyone to stop calling me a kid, then gladly—just set the rules."
With that, we hosted our first mock trial for our new lawyer.