*RIIING* *SLAM*
Ugh... I'm really not up for this today.
Goldie didn't rest well last night. He just couldn't stop thinking about the missing money. Even ignoring his mental concerns, the splitting headache from yesterday still hadn't stopped.
I'll just stay in bed a little longer. I can always make up for my tardiness by walking more quickly.
After spending another 30 minutes underneath his blanket, he finally crawled out of bed. As he shambled to the bathroom, he got the vague sense that everything in his room was slightly further away than it should be. Or maybe it was just that his body was responding far slower than normal. Nevertheless, he reached the bathroom sink. While brushing his teeth he pondered whether it was worthwhile to groom his beard today.
I'd rather skip it once, than come late.
He unsteadily walked down the stairs, the headache dulling his senses. Instead of his usual breakfast, he decided on only eating a slice of bread with some butter. He didn't have enough of an appetite for any more than that.
Maybe I should just stay at home today? Ah no, once I start expanding to other cities I won't be able to afford slacking off.
His headache's thrumming was already starting to lessen. Perhaps today was going to be a wonderful day, he couldn't risk missing out on it by staying home. As Goldie walked out the front door and breathed in the fresh morning air, he determined that his problems were really just a minor setback. He was still well on his way to achieving his goals, and Flousshire was still a superb place to work. As he continued thinking happy thoughts the pain in his head faded away.
“Mornin’ Goldie”, he heard a familiar voice say.
"Oh, good morning bob", Goldie hastily responded.
"Truly wonderful weather today, ain't it?"
"Ah, well", his ears itched, "it's a little too warm for my liking."
"Oh?", Bob inquired. "Not a fan of the heat?"
"Nevermind, it isn't important. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm running slightly late."
"Oh really? The famous Gordon Pyrite overslept?", Bob laughed. "Well then you better be on your way. Have a great day at your shop!"
Each of the morning's conversations went similarly. Everyone he came across was surprised by his tardiness. Had he really never been late before? Thanks to keeping the exchanges short, he managed to arrive at 7:05.
Only five minutes late; good. The first customers usually only show up around 8 o'clock anyway. I have more than enough time to prepare.
He spent the next hour arranging his products and noting down whichever items' supply was getting low. A sigh of relief escaped him as he finished.
Home, sweet home.
His store really was more like his home than his house. He spent nearly every waking minute tending to it, only ever at his house early in the morning or late at night.
The first of the day's customers arrived after another few minutes.
“Good morning Goldie.”
“Good morning Fred, the usual order?”
“Wouldn't have it any other way”, Frederik chuckled.
While packing the medicine Goldie felt a tinge of guilt. Mr. Bloom had to visit him every morning as he never had enough cash on hand to buy in bulk. He's had his back problems for over four years now. He seemed perfectly chipper, but even then, it didn't feel right. He was definitely standing more hunched over than a year ago.
"I could-"
Goldie bit his tongue. His ears were stinging and he felt pressure underneath his eyes. He wanted to help, but he knew mister Bloom would never leave Flousshire to visit a doctor, even if Goldie offered to pay his expenses. Even gifting him some extra medicine would only stall the problem. However, Goldie formulated a plan that just might work.
"Once my company expands to the larger cities, I'll be sure to send a doctor over to Flousshire. I'll even pay him to fix your back. It's the least I could do for a longtime customer."
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"Oh but I can't accept this gift", Fred interposed. "I wouldn't want to drain your resources."
"It's absolutely no problem", Goldie assured. "I'll have more than enough money anyway. Friends should help each other out no?"
Frederik hesitated. A few seconds later a huge smile spread across his face.
"I can't thank you enough. I swear I'll do my best to repay your kindness."
Fred left the store practically glowing with joy. It warmed Goldie's heart. This kind of happiness was unlike what he normally felt. It felt like it came from deep within his soul. After coming down from the high of such deep-seeded joy, the usual joviality he paled in comparison.
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Goldie spent the next few days in a haze. After more than 30 years spent in his shop, it seemed the monotony of work was finally getting to him. The spark of passion he felt for his everyday conversations had completely gone out. The more he reflected on his conversations, the more he realized how uninteresting they were. Nearly all of them boiled down to shallow discussions about how great Flousshire was. Did Goldie even have any friends? He'd rank a lot of people as friendly acquaintances, but he didn't have strong ties to any of them.
Have I ever even gone out? I only ever took off during the weekend and that was mostly spent planning the coming week... As soon as I get my permit, I swear I'll be more social! I can't stay cooped up like this forever!
He checked the time: 8:03. It was less than 24 hours before the minister of commerce would arrive. Goldie was anxiously sitting in his study, overlooking the contents of his vault. He had laid out all the required documents, and his vault was filled to the brim with over 40000 gold. Most of his income came from bulk purchases at the start of each month, meaning even after spending the 25000 gold needed for the permit, he had enough money remaining to start building up his commercial empire.
Just as he wanted to store away all his cash and close the vault, he heard a loud knock on the door.
Who could that be at this hour? Maybe it's an emergency, I better check it out.
He dashed to the door and unlocked it. As it swung open, the familiar visage of a man a full head taller than Goldie came into view.
"I hope I'm not intruding?", the man said warmly.
"No, of course not", Goldie replied, a familiar itching sensation creeping across his head.
"Actually now that you're here... I made a huge blunder after our last transaction", Goldie started. "Shortly after you left the store, the platinum coin you handed to me seemingly vanished."
The prickling sensation spread from his ears to the back of his neck.
"By the roots of Gát'machá, that's horrible!", the warrior exclaimed. "I'll help in any way I can."
In an instant, the feeling of doubt creeping out the back of Goldie's head left him. Replaced by the elating feeling of gratitude.
"That is most gracious of you, mister...?"
"Ford, Garen Ford", the Sahíl said as he shook Goldie's hand.
"Well then mister Ford, how are you planning to help, and why are you so trusting of me? I could just be making this all up."
"Someone as successful as you needs the trust of his clients, so I can't imagine you'd ever try to swindle somebody", mister Ford explained.
"I'd be happy to pay for your help. You needn't give out your service for free", Goldie argued. "I just need to get some money from my study in the back."
The man cut him off: "That won't be necessary. You have my absolute trust. Catching a thief is to the general public's benefit. Accepting private payment for such an act would be immoral."
A wave of relief washed over Goldie and he earnestly accepted the man's offer.
"I'll say what's on my mind first", he started in a serious tone. "Whoever stole the coin must have either been extremely skilled, or extremely lucky. Neither of us noticed him enter or leave the shop."
"Is there another way in?", Garen probed. "A backdoor of sorts?"
"There aren't any other entrances, but it is possible for him to have climbed in through the window on the second floor."
"What's on the second floor?"
"More of the products that you already see down here. I stash most of my merchandise in a warehouse in the outskirts of town, but keep some goods upstairs in case they run low."
Garen paused for a few moments.
"Alright. I think I've got a plan", the warrior announced. "One of my group is a runic mage. She can set up a few wards around your open window, while we lock the front door. If we set up the appropriate bait, the burglar will surely strike again. The trick is to make him believe you're an easy target. Therefore I suggest leaving the store unattended, while my partner and I lie in wait for the thieving bastard to show up."
The confidence with which Garen delivered his plan swept Goldie along. It didn't just sound like a good plan it felt like one. It may in fact have been the greatest plan ever conceived. It was a wise choice to ask for Garen's help.
"I don't know a lot about magic, but setting up some wards certainly sounds plausible. I would, however, like to meet your friend beforehand."
"We can go visit her right now. If my assumption is correct, then catching that crook can net us both a huge lump of reward money."
That really did sound quite good. Maybe Goldie could end up benefiting out of this whole fiasco.
He checked his watch one final time: 8:08
It's still early enough.
Together the two men walked out of the building, Goldie locking the front door behind them. They strolled for quite some time and eventually reached the edge of the inner district.
"Why would your friend be all the way out here?", Goldie asked.
"We merely prefer staying low key. I imagine having some fully geared adventurers watching you work can be rather intimidating. Plus, it's nice and quiet out here."
The tone in which the man spoke reassured Goldie. After a few more minutes of walking his ears started to itch. He was about to open his mouth but was interrupted by the sight of a beautiful young lady dressed in a fine robe.
He was momentarily stunned but quickly got ahold of himself. He walked up to introduce himself, only to be overwhelmed by extreme drowsiness.
He toppled over onto the ground.
"I still think we should just kill him", the woman pestered.
"The Gemeen don't respawn Maggy! We're thieves, not murderers."
"It would have been-"
Those were the last words Goldie heard before gliding into blissful unawareness.