"...Is this some magical item or something? An artifact? No, a weapon? Is it a weapon?!?" Sahro asked with forced curiosity while looking at the brass Exan-egg Glenn held. The old lady had left for the back of her shop to go and find what the Black Heir was looking for, namely, masks. Actual masks this time.
"I guess you can consider it to be an artifact, yes..." Glenn muttered as he listened to the sound of the clock ticking, one click for every passing second. The shop's light, a soft white was making the brass contraption gleam, the engraving of the sandglass reflecting a bronze hue.
Sahro smacked his lips, before turning away without much interest. Silently, Glenn placed the Exan-egg back in its small lacquered box. He didn't close the lid, as he had a small hope that he could buy the item. The old lady finally came back from the storeroom, two wooden masks under her arm. She pushed them on the counter, right next to the ancient watch. They were sculpted in a common-looking wood, one bearing a happy smile and the other a sad one. There were no holes for the eyes, only for the mouth. The old lady coughed in her hand lightly, before leaning on the counter and pointing at the first mask.
"Those are made from maple, and have been lacquered to reinforce their durability," She explained before picking it up and turning it around, revealing the mask's inside. Surprisingly, unlike what the mask's face let him think, there were two holes for the eyes indeed present, only they weren't visible from the exterior. Glenn's eyebrow rose in curiosity.
"The eyes, as you can see, are hidden behind a concealment spell. An old friend of mine made it, so it should be quite tough. Ho ho, why don't you try them?"
Sahro went and stretched out his hand toward the sad mask, before freezing as he remembered the last "mask" he tried on. He forced a smile out and pointed at the happy mask.
"Why don't you try it on, Glenn? I'll tell you if it looks good on you!"
Glenn sighed and took the mask, before sticking it to his face. It was holding perfectly in place even though there were no straps or any similar devices. It didn't make breathing any harder, and he could see as well as if he had no mask on. Sahro whistled.
"Well, it suits you to a T!"
The young man shrugged, before nudging his chin toward the remaining mask.
"Put yours on as well, Sahro."
The Black Heir looked at the mask reluctantly, before sighing and putting it on. It looked perfectly stuck to his skin, and his eyes were invisible under the illusional wood layer.
"Those are perfect. Excellent," Glenn smiled and took the mask off, putting it on the counter. The old lady remained silent as she watched with a smiling eye.
"I think we'll be taking both of those. How much are they?" The young man asked as he sunk his hand in his dimensional pouch, ready to fetch any coins. The old lady rubbed her eyepatch and glanced at the Exan-egg.
"Hmm...With that," She pointed her chin at the ancient watch, "...in total, it'll be twenty gold coins. And I'm giving you a really good price, so don't try to haggle, young man!" She threatened with her finger raised. Glenn chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, secretly in awe at the price.
'Fuck, twenty gold? That's the equivalent of a house in the Fringe, what the hell?'
'...I don't think she's lying,' Diamanes suddenly commented. Glenn's desire to disagree and negotiate the price dimmed down slightly, and he listened carefully to the entity's words.
'Those masks, and more particularly this Exan-egg, watch, whatever you want to call it...They're not common items. They are true artifacts infused with Mana. The spells on the masks are only make-up to hide their true power. I can't tell what they do, but in my opinion, it's all worth it. And, you can always earn more gold-killing stuff anyway...'
Glenn winced and passed his tongue over his teeth, before pulling twenty golden coins out of his pouch half-heartedly. The old lady smiled as she pocketed the gold, slipping it into a discreet pocket. She then went around the corner and patted the two's shoulders.
"Ho ho, don't make too many waves, young men. The Eastern Town ain't what it used to be, after all..." She trailed off, her eye lost in the distance. Glenn moistened his lips, before putting up his mask while taking the Exan-egg and slipping it into his dimensional pouch.
'For now, I'll keep it safely there. I'd rather not break it when it cost me so much...' Glenn couldn't help but grimace under his mask as he thought back to the exorbitant price. Sahro chuckled and patted the old lady's shoulder back.
"Don't worry, old lady, we can defend ourselves..." The Black Heir glanced around and rubbed his chin, before leaning forward toward her, "...I was curious though, are you safe here? With how the streets are currently, I'm surprised you didn't get caught in the crossfire..."
The old lady chuckled and walked back to her counter. She adjusted her eyepatch and grinned, refusing to elaborate. Glenn and Sahro traded a glance, before shrugging in synchronization.
Everyone had their little secrets. Glenn bowed politely, forcing Sahro to do so with a slap on his neck.
"Thank you. We'll probably visit again!"
The old shopkeeper laughed and shook her head slowly, a strange emotion appearing in her remaining eye.
"I doubt that, young man. Ho ho ho..!"
A few seconds later, they were out of the shop. Glenn tightened the bandage covering his left arm once more before pulling his sleeve back to his wrist. He was so used to rocking the rolled sleeves that it felt almost foreign to have them this way. He then pulled out a pair of black leather gloves and slipped them on, assuring this way his purple left arm wouldn't give him away.
"Sorry Diamanes, if you have to complain, complain with Sahro, alright?" Glenn muttered as he made sure not even a spot of purple was visible. The only thing remaining would be his clothes, but he had no changes. He just chose to throw a hooded robe over it all, hiding his clothes.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
'Yeah, whatever. I'm just getting used to my freedom being robbed from me from time to time,' Diamanes said in Glenn's mind with a gloomy tone.
"Stop complaining, I can't even speak aloud! Also, there's no way you can get recognized, Glenn. You look hella suspicious, though," Nelg added. Glenn shrugged helplessly before following in Sahro's footsteps.
'I don't have a choice, do I?'
'Actually, you do! You could just wreck it all up with your magic and Nelg, we'd have some fun and I wouldn't be forced to wear what's basically a gag!' Diamanes tried and failed to convince Glenn. The young man shook his head with a sneer, before speaking up to Sahro.
"Where's that Hanged Inn then, Sad?" They had chosen to call themselves with the expressions on their masks to be sure they wouldn't be recognized. Sahro had specifically prepared an outfit completely different from his usual desert clothes. He was wearing black clothes from head to toe that stuck to his skin. Over those, he had thrown a light leather armor that had also been dyed black, making him look almost like some kind of ninja.
"Or a creep," Nelg remarked.
"It's a little further. I don't know if it was mentioned in that intel Maron gave you, but just in case..." Sahro cleared his throat as he rubbed the pommel of the sword hanging at his waist. His voice was muffled by the mask, making it unrecognizable from how it usually was.
"The Hanged Inn is a central trading point for the Skinners, the main gang controlling this area of the town. There's also the Street Kids and the Red Maidens, but they're..." Glenn could imagine Sahro's face hardening as he searched for his word under the lacquered wood mask, "...incomparable, be it in size or threat. The Skinners are the only ones deserving to be hunted, though, so keep that in mind."
Glenn nodded silently, trying to remember as much as he could from the brief he read before coming to town. The Street Kids were literally what their group's name called them, street kids that had ganged up together to better survive the lawlessness. The Red Maidens, instead, were some priestesses for an obscure branch of the Brotherhood of Iron Blood. Glenn remembered Maron's intel explaining that their intents were mysterious and unknown, besides maybe some blurry cooperation with the more official branches of the Iron Blood.
"I'll do the talking this time, so just stay put," The Black Heir warned. Glenn shrugged in reply.
"Sure, sure. You're at a home advantage, go wild..." He sneered. Sahro ignored him and turned in a shady alley almost invisible if one doesn't look closely. The red lights disappeared one after the other, leaving them in a cold obscurity. Glenn gulped, struggling to restrain himself from casting his Sun's Touch to get rid of the darkness.
'Hah! Afraid of the dark, now?' Diamanes exclaimed mockingly. Glenn nodded slowly, tense.
'Well, you know, when you've been tortured in some obscure prisons and met some eldritch entities in dark places, you start to see things that don't exist in the darkness. And I'm not scared, just very much uncomfortable...' Glenn trailed off, leaving Diamanes speechless. The young man's honesty had rendered him entirely speechless, freeing Glenn from the sarcastic comments for a little while.
Finally, after a few more twists and turns in the Eastern Town's labyrinthic streets, they arrived in front of a rundown inn, with a skeleton hanging above the front door.
"Huh." Glenn glanced up and down at the skeleton, understanding where the Hanged Inn got its name. A few drunks were lying around or puking against walls, alongside tired prostitutes smoking cigarettes, their makeup ruined. Alongside those fellows was a disturbingly annoying group of punks with pointy haircuts laughing and bothering the prostitutes. Not that they seemed to be particularly against it, as a matter of fact, they even looked used to it.
'...I mean, I could probably take on a small gang like this one alone, right?' Glenn silently pondered, his fists tightly clenched as he watched the disgusting creatures. Sahro leaned in and whispered in his friend's ears.
"...Here are the "nobles" I talked about..."
Glenn smacked his lips and nodded deeply.
"I understand better now. Yeah, no wonder you've had fun taking care of those bounties..." Glenn wanted to spit to the side but restrained himself, so he wouldn't garner any attention. They entered the Inn, Glenn refusing to spare the idiotic group another glance.
'Yeah, I'll leave them be for now. I just need to find Redan, then...I'm free to do anything I want, as long as it's under a Fixer's bounty,' Glenn silently calculated. Diamanes suddenly laughed, before sighing deeply.
'You need to do something about that savior's complex of yours.'
Glenn stopped, his eyelids twitching.
'Savior's complex? No, it'd be better to call it a "hating complex". And alongside a terrible need of exterminating everything I hate,' replied the young man coldly, shutting Diamanes up for the second time that night.
The Inn was nothing like the one he had been in ever since his arrival in this world. There were no happy drunks, friendly card players, or pretty waitresses. No, the Inn was plunged in a thick smog, with the sound of whispers, coughs, and glasses clinking being the only one echoing in it. It was silent, dead like a cemetery, the ghosts the only ones allowed to speak. There were armed bandits — no — armed Skinners in every corner of the Inn, be it behind the counter, sitting down, or just moving around.
Sahro stepped forward confidently, Glenn following closely behind him. The Black Heir threw the bag he had been carrying until now on the counter, earning a suspicious gaze from the other "customers" of the Inn. The Skinner behind the counter, his arms crossed, glanced down at the bag with a judgmental gaze. Sahro nodded at the bag, not speaking a word.
The "barman" opened the bag, his eyes widening slightly as he realized what was in the bag. The corner of his lips curved upward slightly and he closed the bag before pushing it back in Sahro's arms. Without any questions or anything, he pulled two small patches of leather with a C tattooed on them and handed them to the Black Heir.
"The man you're looking for is in the back room. Xos, bring them to him."
A Skinner stood up from a nearby table and passed his tongue over his teeth, a rusty dagger adorning his waist. Stains of dry blood were left over the blade, traces of the horrors that had been inflicted with the weapon. The Skinner, Xos, was a skinny guy with tattooed arms leather pants, and a vest.
'He's only wearing leather...like every skinner, it seems,' Diamanes commented, prompting Nelg to add something.
"...You don't think it's all...?" The sword didn't finish its phrase. Glenn gritted his teeth and cast the thoughts away, following the Skinner to the back room. There, sitting on a large sofa with a massive bottle of alcohol sitting on its lap, was an equally large guy. He had long greasy gray hair and was fitting a whole chicken in his mouth before washing it down with the alcohol.
He glanced at the two newcomers, looking them up and down, before beckoning them to come closer. Glenn and Sahro obeyed, the black heir throwing the bag at the fat man's feet. He then took out the two leather plates tattooed with a C and placed them on a nearby table as a token.
The fat guy licked his lips before opening the bag up. He took out the two faces and whistled, before throwing them to the side of the sofa.
"Impressive. I suppose you want two spots?"
Sahro and Glenn nodded, still choosing to go the silent path if they could. Even if the risk of the Skinners recognizing Sahro's voice through the mask was low, it wasn't zero. More precaution was better than not enough. The fat man shrugged and held his hand to the side, before chanting in the same language the School of Words used. Glenn stared with his eyes wide open as space was ripped through, opening a portal to some unknown destination.
Sahro stepped into the rift without hesitation. Glenn glanced one last time at the fat man, before following his friend.
He would eventually be back for this place.
Cleaning up was becoming sort of a pleasant activity, and he did need to start feeding Nelg. Additionally, this space-ripping power was most interesting.
That made plenty of reasons to return to the Hanged Inn one day to raze it to the ground.
But now, the most important thing was to save Redan. After that, though...
Nothing will be able to stop him from having some fun with the Skinners.