"I'll be waiting for you here. I really hope you'll return."
Well for 6 gold, he just bought a guilt trip on me... I'll have to return no matter what, now
Thundiirn scurried off with the money tucked away, just as this Agathon fellow began to notice and question his status as "living". Perfect timing to escape into the world of shadows. While normally it wasn't that hard to find Pulp anywhere in town, with this past Winter everything had lost its abundance and demand had skyrocketed. And, as usual when that happened, that meant that the Syndicates were the only ones that still had a steady supply, and so it was time to wander into gang territory.
From the docks, Thundiirn moved northward through the Seaside Market, which was quiet but still not quite empty at this point in the day. As he walked, he watched the old lady he had previously bought gloves from packing up her things and vacating her stall. Already, he saw another man was eyeing the spot, planning to set up there when she left, and he looked more the type to have Syndicate connections than she did.
"Aye!" he said, calling out to the man who waited not-so-patiently a little ways off. The man turned towards him, showing off a toothless grin. Ew.....
"Sorry to disturb you, but you wouldn't happen to have any hooks up north would ya?" "Whatz yer ticket, mister?" Straightforward, to the point. A much-appreciated quality in men, as far as Thundiirn was concerned. "Needin' some Pulp, willing to spend 3 Gold for 6 leaves." The old man guffawed at this. Well, that wasn't a good sign. Perhaps the price had inflated with all of Sunberth's recent issues more than he had predicted. "Youse gonna need more than THAT. 4.5." was the retort. "4.2, no lower" Thundiirn shot back. The man smiled toothlessly again, and held out a hand. Of course, he'd want his cut. Two silvers vanished from Thundiirn's pocket into the hand. "And four more after" The man scowled at this, but put them in his pocket, gestured at Thund to follow, and began walking north again with his sack of worthless trinkets. It appeared that they were headed towards Daggerhand land. Night Eyes would certainly be preferable, but begger's couldn't be choosers. They could only complain. "A Dagger hook, bro? Seriously?". "Better than that. Youse best stick close, now. Especially with youse rotten skin, Mister. Easier for knives to SLICE through." The man laughed at this point, flashing a knife in his sleeve to Thundiirn, and began to move.
Well this could end badly. Already Thundiirn regretted his choice. |
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