Eryndor walked out of the Shadowed Quill, he felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him. His meeting with the intelligence broker had answered a few questions that had been lingering in the back of his mind.
Unbeknownst to him, a short hooded thief named Finn had been eyeing him from across the street. Finn had a reputation for being quick and stealthy, and he had set his sights on Eryndor's magic ring. He gripped his dagger tightly in his left hand, planning to slice Eryndor's right hand index finger and steal the ring in a fast hit and run.
As soon as Eryndor walked down the last stair of the Shadowed Quill building, Finn dashed towards him. He came very close to Eryndor, his dagger mere inches from Eryndor's right hand. But just as he was about to strike, a sword came out of nowhere and cut Finn in half, blood spewing all around.
Eryndor spun around, dumbfounded, and saw a dead goblin cut in half laid behind him. The goblin's left hand still clutched the dagger, and Eryndor's eyes widened in shock.
The gatekeeper, a grizzled old man named Gustav, stood behind him, his sword still trembling with the force of the blow. Gustav looked old, but his eyes sparkled with a veteran master swordsman's intensity.
"Ah, thank you, old man" Eryndor exclaimed, still trying to process what had just happened. "I owe you one! I didn't even see him coming."
Gustav smiled, his face creasing with age lines. "It was my duty, young man," he replied. "Can't have our valued customers being attacked right in front of me, now can I? You're safe now."
Eryndor nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude towards the gatekeeper. "I appreciate it. You're a true hero."
Gustav waved his hand dismissively. "Just doing my job, lad. But I must say, you do seem to attract a lot of trouble. Perhaps you should be more careful in the future?"
Eryndor chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish. "I'll try to be more careful."
Eryndor realized that the magic ring was the source of the trouble he had encountered. To minimize further risk, he decided to keep it hidden. He carefully placed the ring back in its original hiding spot, tucked away in his underwear. With the magic ring safely hidden away, Eryndor decided to put the recent events behind him and focus on enjoying his time in the bordertown. He set out to explore the town, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling streets.
As Eryndor walked away, Krog watched him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. He couldn't shake off the feeling that Eryndor was somehow connected to the series of unfortunate events that had been happening to him.
"Whenever this guy is around, something bad happens," Krog thought to himself. "Was it because of him that the tree fell on me? Or was I wrongfully chased by the guards because of him?"
Krog's mind began to wander, thinking about all the possible ways that Eryndor could be connected to his misfortunes. But then, he shook his head, recognizing the absurdity of his own suspicions.
Krog had been observing the man for a while now, and he couldn't help but notice a disturbing pattern. Everywhere Eryndor went, trouble seemed to follow.
Krog's fear turned to panic as he realized that he had been foolish to consider seeking revenge against Eryndor. The man seemed to be a magnet for disaster, and Krog didn't want to be anywhere near him when the next catastrophe struck.
With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Krog decided to abandon his plans for revenge and flee as far and as fast as he could. He stuffed the bag of pecans he had been snacking from into his pocket and turned to make a hasty retreat, his heart racing with fear. But before he could take a single step, disaster struck again - this time, in the form of a swallowed pecan that went down the wrong way, causing Krog to choke.
Krog's eyes widened in panic as he clutched at his throat, his face turning red as he struggled to breathe. He tried to cough, but it only made things worse. His vision began to blur, and he felt himself getting lightheaded.
Just as Krog thought he was going to pass out, he stumbled and fell to the ground, his body wracked with spasms as he desperately tried to dislodge the pecan from his airway.
Krog's choking fit continued, his eyes bulging as he flailed about on the ground. He was starting to lose consciousness, his mind foggy and his body weakening. Just when it seemed like all was lost, Krog's body finally managed to cough up the pecan, and it flew out of his mouth, landing on the ground with a small bounce.
Krog lay there, gasping for air, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was shaken, but alive. As he looked up, he saw Eryndor staring at him.
Krog's eyes were wide with terror as he gazed up at Eryndor, his face pale and sweaty. "I'll do anything, I'll be your slave, I'll be your dog, just don't kill me!" he begged, his voice shaking like a leaf. "I'll walk your dog, I'll feed your cat, I'll even eat your leftovers! Just please, please, PLEASE don't kill me!"
Eryndor, however, was completely misinterpreting Krog's pleas. He puffed out his chest, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "Ah, you tremble before my greatness," he declared, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Perhaps you are not lost yet. From today onwards, you'll swear your absolute loyalty towards me. You'll address me as 'Boss' at all times, and you'll perform any task I deem fit for you."
Krog, still cowering in fear, nodded frantically. "Y-yes, Boss! Anything, Boss! Just don't... don't... you know, make the sky fall on me or something!"
Eryndor's smirk grew even wider. "If you don't obey me, I'll make you wish you weren't born," he threatened, his voice dripping with drama.
Eryndor unknowingly used his bad luck to force Krog to become his follower.