Chapter 3: A Mysterious Job Offer
Scene 1: The Stranger's Proposal
The dimly lit corner of the Skyhold Tavern was a world unto itself, removed from the lively hum of the main hall. Shadows clung to the walls, broken only by the faint glow of a single aetherium lamp perched on the table. Kael sat in one of the booth’s well-worn seats, the soft leather creaking beneath him as he shifted slightly, his gaze fixed on the cloaked figure across from him.
The stranger’s face was obscured by a deep hood, but the glint of sharp eyes occasionally flashed from the darkness. Gloved hands rested on the table, one of them gently nudging a pouch forward. It landed with a muted thunk, its contents shimmering faintly through the fabric.
Kael didn’t need to open it to know what was inside—high-grade aetherium crystals. Enough to keep the Starlance operational for months.
The stranger’s voice was low and deliberate, each word measured. “The job is simple: take a cargo crate to a remote island. No questions, no deviations.”
Kael arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “That’s it? No inspection of the cargo? No discussion about why you’re willing to pay a small fortune for a routine delivery?”
The stranger’s gloved fingers drummed lightly on the table. “Discretion is what you’re being paid for, Captain. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
Jack, perched on the edge of the table, let out a soft chuff, its sharp gaze locked on the stranger. Kael glanced at his companion, smirking faintly. “Looks like my partner here isn’t a fan of vague instructions.”
The stranger shifted slightly, clearly unsettled by the creature’s piercing stare. “It’s a one-time delivery,” he pressed. “Get it there, no questions, and you’ll find more than enough incentive to take the next job.”
Kael’s smile faded as his fingers tapped the edge of the table. “That’s what worries me. People don’t throw around this kind of payment for harmless errands. What’s in the crate?”
A tense silence followed, the low murmur of the tavern serving as an almost mocking contrast. The stranger finally leaned forward, his voice a whisper. “What’s in the crate isn’t your concern. All you need to know is that delays won’t be tolerated.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed slightly, his instincts bristling at the evasion. But even as suspicion mounted, he couldn’t ignore the weight of the pouch in front of him. He’d been running on fumes lately, the Starlance overdue for maintenance and his funds stretched thin.
Jack chuffed again, this time louder, its wings flaring briefly as it fixed the stranger with an almost accusatory look.
Kael reached out, resting a hand lightly on the creature’s back. “Relax, buddy. We’re just talking.”
The stranger’s posture stiffened. “You’ll take the job or you won’t. But I won’t wait much longer.”
Kael met the man’s gaze, though the shadows beneath the hood betrayed little. His gut told him this was trouble, but trouble had a way of finding him whether he sought it or not.
“Alright,” he said finally, his tone measured. “Let’s say I’m interested. How soon does this crate need to move?”
“Immediately,” the stranger replied, his voice clipped. “The crate will be delivered to your ship within the hour.”
Kael allowed himself a faint smirk, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Fine. But if this goes south, I’m doubling my fee next time.”
The stranger slid the pouch across the table before rising without another word, his cloak sweeping behind him as he disappeared into the shadows of the tavern.
Jack let out a long, sharp chuff, its wings twitching as it watched the man leave.
Kael leaned back in his seat, pocketing the pouch with a quiet sigh. “Yeah, I know, Jack. This doesn’t sit right with me either.”
His gaze drifted toward the bustling main hall of the tavern, where Sierra sat at a distant table. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes followed the stranger’s exit with an intensity that made Kael’s unease deepen.
“Looks like we’re not the only ones interested in this job,” he muttered.
Jack chuffed softly, its tail curling around its legs as it perched closer to Kael.
Kael drained the rest of his drink in one swig, already regretting his decision.
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Scene 2: Kael’s Hesitation
Kael sat alone in the dimly lit booth, the weight of the pouch resting heavily in his pocket. The faint shimmer of aetherium crystals played in his mind—a lifeline for the Starlance, a chance to keep flying for months without scraping by on bare essentials. But it was more than the offer that gnawed at him; it was the man who’d made it.
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Jack perched on the edge of the table, chuffing softly, its sharp eyes flicking between Kael and the tavern’s entrance, where the stranger had disappeared moments earlier.
“Yeah, I know,” Kael murmured, running a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t feel right, does it?”
The tavern’s familiar hum of conversation and laughter felt distant now, replaced by the sound of Kael’s own thoughts tumbling over one another. He had a rule: never take a job you can’t walk away from. Yet the stranger’s vagueness, the urgency, and the sheer amount of money screamed trouble.
Kael’s fingers drummed against the table as his gaze drifted to the Starlance, visible through the window overlooking the docks. She was a fine ship, but she wasn’t invincible. The engines had been running on borrowed time, and Tov’s endless reminders about overdue repairs rang louder in his head with each passing moment.
He sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes briefly. “What do you think, Jack? Take the risk or let it slide?”
Jack let out a sharp chuff, hopping closer to nudge Kael’s arm.
Kael opened his eyes, smirking faintly. “I figured you’d say that.”
Movement from across the room caught his attention. A subtle shift of shadows near a far corner of the tavern drew his focus. Three figures sat hunched over a table, their postures tense, their low murmurs masked by the tavern’s noise.
Kael’s gut twisted as he recognized one of them—a man with a jagged scar slicing across his jaw, a face he’d seen before on the wrong end of a bar brawl. It wasn’t the scarred man that unsettled Kael, though; it was the way all three occasionally glanced toward him, their eyes sharp and calculating.
“Looks like we’re popular tonight,” Kael muttered, his tone low. Jack chuffed in agreement, its wings twitching slightly as if readying for flight.
Kael’s unease deepened as he noticed Sierra sitting at her usual table, a glass of wine cradled delicately in her hand. She wasn’t looking at him directly, but her gaze lingered just long enough to confirm she was aware of the situation. The faintest flicker of recognition passed over her features before she turned her attention back to her companion, her expression unreadable.
“That’s not comforting,” Kael muttered.
The three shadowy figures shifted again, their whispers growing more animated. One of them gestured toward the door, and Kael felt his pulse quicken. This wasn’t just idle curiosity—they were planning something.
Jack let out a low growl, its eyes locked on the group. Kael reached out, gently stroking the creature’s back to calm it.
“Easy, buddy,” he said softly. “Let’s not start anything we can’t finish.”
He took a deep breath, weighing his options. The stranger’s offer was lucrative, but it came with too many strings. The shadowy figures were a problem he didn’t fully understand, and Sierra’s subtle observation only added another layer to the growing tension.
Still, the thought of turning down the job left a sour taste in his mouth. The Starlance needed those crystals, and Kael couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever storm was brewing, he was already in the middle of it.
Jack chuffed again, softer this time, as if sensing Kael’s resolve hardening.
Kael nodded slowly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, do we?”
With that, he leaned forward, pulling the pouch from his pocket and letting its weight rest on the table. The decision was made, but the unease in his chest lingered like a storm cloud on the horizon.
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Scene 3: Sealing the Deal
Kael leaned back in the booth, his hand resting lightly on the pouch of aetherium crystals. The weight of the decision still hung heavy in the air, but his mind was made up. Trouble or not, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away.
The faint scrape of boots on wood announced the stranger’s return before Kael even glanced up. The cloaked figure slid into the seat across from him, his movements deliberate and composed. For a moment, neither spoke, the low murmur of the tavern filling the silence between them.
“Well?” the stranger asked, his voice low and measured.
Kael tilted his head, studying the man for a beat longer than necessary. “I’ll take the job,” he said finally, his tone carrying just enough edge to make it clear he wasn’t thrilled about the arrangement.
The stranger’s gloved hand reached into his cloak and withdrew a folded manifest, sliding it across the table. “The crate will be delivered to your ship within the hour. Handle it carefully, Captain. And remember—no questions.”
Kael picked up the manifest, unfolding it with a flick of his wrist. The text was brief, little more than coordinates and a single word scrawled beneath the destination: Priority. It told him nothing, which, he supposed, was the point.
Jack, perched on the edge of the table, let out a sharp chuff. Its wings flared briefly, and its eyes locked onto the stranger with an intensity that seemed to unnerve him.
The stranger shifted in his seat, his fingers twitching slightly. “Your… companion seems agitated.”
Kael smirked, reaching out to scratch behind Jack’s ears. “Jack has a good nose for trouble. Can’t say I disagree with him.”
The stranger straightened, his tone clipped. “I assure you, the trouble comes only to those who fail to deliver.”
“Comforting,” Kael muttered dryly, tucking the manifest into his jacket. “Anything else I need to know?”
The stranger rose abruptly, his cloak swirling around him as he stepped away from the table. “Just deliver the crate. You’ll receive further instructions once you arrive.” Without waiting for a response, he disappeared into the shadows of the tavern.
Kael watched him go, his smirk fading as the tension in his chest tightened. Jack chuffed loudly, its wings twitching in agitation as it leapt onto Kael’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I know,” Kael said, his voice low. “I’ve got a bad feeling too.”
He reached for his drink, but the usual comfort of the amber liquid felt hollow. His eyes drifted toward the shadowy figures in the corner, who were now openly watching him. Their attention lingered on the pouch of crystals before returning to Kael, their expressions unreadable but far from friendly.
“Looks like we’re attracting all the wrong kinds of attention,” Kael muttered, scratching Jack under its chin. The creature leaned into his touch but kept its gaze locked on the corner of the room, its chuffs soft but insistent.
Kael leaned back in his seat, letting the weight of the situation settle. The stranger’s offer was too good to be clean, the Syndicate’s interest was too pointed to be coincidental, and Sierra’s quiet observation felt too deliberate to ignore.
He pocketed the pouch and stood, adjusting his jacket as he glanced toward the tavern’s bustling main hall. The air seemed heavier now, as if the walls themselves were waiting for the fallout of his decision.
Jack let out a final chuff, curling its tail around Kael’s neck as they made their way toward the door.
“Let’s get out of here,” Kael said quietly. “Something tells me we’re going to need all the head start we can get.”
With a final glance back at the shadowy figures—and Sierra, who watched him from across the room with an inscrutable expression—Kael stepped into the cool night air.
The winds had shifted, and he could feel the storm brewing just beyond the horizon.