Masterminds

The Dagger and Gauntlet's First Encounter

-Flashback-

6 years? 8? How long have you been roaming the wasteland with just your butler as your companion? How many times have you drenched your hands in your loved ones's blood?

The lands ranged from hostile to neutral, running away from creatures, hiding in cities crowded, exploring whatever you two found interesting, and, most importantly, finding an altar to pray, as Sceleritas advised you. This was shortly after your first carnage - when the bruised cadavers of your adoptive parents scattered on the floor. Your feet hurt from walking long distances, the unrelenting journeys. Shoes worn, clothes torn, rags covered in mud, dirt, and whatever other substances. Your old cape barely protected you long enough to cover your face from the winter's claws.

Sceleritas Fel scurries through the highways of Rivington, passing by unseen by the public. You try to keep his pace, but he is too fast.

"Make haste, young master! We are near!" as the gate looms over the people's heads, he exclaims with great pride, "Welcome back home, my rotten lord! Firstly, we have to stop by the temple. Your Father is waiting for you!"

The city revels in children's laughs and adults' smiles. Baldur's Gate outbursts with life: thriving stalls allege the quality of its yields, all types of vendors and products displayed on worn tables. You roam around, eyeing the red apples, fresh fish sold by the very fishers, trinkets, and jewellery - a pair of rubies catches your attention, and they resonate with you. Alas, they are too pricey, even though you accumulated lots of money from your targets.
By the corner of your eye, the dark alleys call to you like a mother waiting impatiently for their kids to come after school.
Bards are dancing, showing off their honed skills in music and lyrics. Around, a circle of people joined the ballad. With clumsy moves, they twirl and sing with the most awful intonation.

Oh, how sweet would be to hack those grins...

As you wander, the calluses on your feet hamper your speed. Before entering the dampened sewers, you search for a store to buy new clothes and shoes, to impress the tribunal Sceleritas so many times mentioned.
Among the many luxurious vendors, a tiny shop catches your attention.

Flymm's Cobblers

It is humbly written on the wooden sign. With a quick peek, you distinguish the owners inside. However, your rags may raise suspicion, especially that dark cloak you have been flaunting. As you take off the cape, you open the door to the store. The interior is as modest as the facade.
A black-haired woman greets you as you look around the shelves stocked with boots.

"Welcome, lad!" she exclaims approaching. You ask her about the kind of services provided. "We can fix any type of footwear, for you. What do you require?" you can sense a tinge of desperation in their voices - they are struggling with something, eager to take on any request.
You turn down the offer respectfully for you are looking to replace your shoes, not fix them.

"I'll browse for a little longer but thank you." a pair of black boots is what you need, comfortable, and strong to take on the force you put when smashing skulls. All the while you ponder between two models, the door bursts open, a small figure running upstairs in a flurry. Small and skinny - black-haired like his mother, but in messier garments - he rushes past the owners, who stop him. They try to restrain the impulse to scold the little boy in front of a stranger.

"Envard, where are your manners? Do greet the customer." the woman says callously. The boy then turns, with quite the annoyed face whilst trying his best to hide it, forced to greet you.

"Yeah, yeah. Hello and welcome to Flymm's Cobblers..." he recites with little enthusiasm. You lower your head as a salutation whereas he skedaddles in less than a second. You realize the man sighing at the behaviour.