Shapeless Hero

28 - Last Coin

Clint has been promised a decent pay for a decent job. But neither does he fantasize about the things he could buy with the pay, nor does he dream of the possible savings, he could accumulate. Right now, he just looks forward to delivering the good news to an acquaintance, who should arrive, right before shifts change in the adventurers guild.

"Congratulations on your employment, Clint!", says the hooded figure on the other side of the table, a smile audible in his silken voice. "How many days do you think you'll have, before you get dropped?"

Clint's jaw muscles tense up. "Thank you for your 'supportive' words.", he says slowly. This was supposed to be the first time in a long while, Clint can bring up something positive to his benefactor during their regular meetings in the main hall, but that man is obviously not in a good mood today.

The hooded figure chuckles and crosses his arms. "Oh? You think you can hold the job longer than a few days?" He tilts his head to the left and right, further staging the act of pondering this and that with exaggerated hums. "But maybe you're right." The shadow deepens under the hood covering his face, when he leans forward on the table. His jesting aura vanishes. "After all, you only ruin the opportunities that I give you."

Clint's eyes widen, but he manages to redirect his hateful glare to the wooden table surface, instead of the man spouting venomous words. As odd as it is, something about this table with its scratched and dented surface surviving countless brawls in the guild hall gives him the energy to persevere through this sour conversation. His face now cleared of the prior emotions, Clint looks at the spots in the darkness, where the other man's eyes roughly should be. "You know very well, how each problem occured.", Clint finally responds.

The hooded man sighs and straightens up again. "You're right. If it weren't for the accounts of your colleagues, I would've thought, you sold away everything that was meant to help you on your jobs. But not even once did you lie about how the gear broke or vanished. Credit, where credit's due, I guess." He starts loudly tapping his foot. "But you and I both know, that honesty and apologies won't magically make wounds and failures disappear. I gave you five chances to prove yourself. You squandered them all."

Clint's eyes wander down to the table again. His lips stretch to a thin line.

The man continues. "I made sure to give you a different kind of job every time, in hopes, one of them would allow you to show your potential. Yet, you had to abort them all. So the only constant in this chain of failures..."

"...is me.", finishes Clint, eyebrows pulled together and his hands trembling below the table.

The hooded figure stops tapping his food. "I'm glad you understand. How about we cut both our losses here then?"

"W-wait, but this job will..."

"Will it? Are you sure? Didn't we both think the same about the last few times?" With his right hand, Clint's anonymous ex-employer produces an amulet out of his left sleeve and puts it down on the table. "Let's just both agree that we can't work together, okay? Let's cut our losses, even though it will hurt you the most, I'm afraid. If anything, that will balance out the pain I felt, every time you wasted my investments in you."

"No, you can't be..."

The hooded man shakes his had. "You had your chances, boy."

Clint's eyes water. He had tried so hard to avoid this outcome. Everything, his parents left for him, will now be used as a mere compensation for debts, which he amassed through his unbelievable misfortune and incompetence.

The man sighs again. "Listen, Clint, I don't enjoy this, okay? I know, what your parents gear means to you, but let me ask you this: Would you rather loose those items and walk away as a free man or would you rather... well, you know, how much they would want to put you in dresses and have their way with you in that place, right?"

A shiver runs down Clint's spine. "Freedom disappears along with your last coin." is a common saying in the shady streets of Ryelope. The regulars of that place are also regulars of that slave auction. Seeing Clint slowly nod, the hooded man stands up and brushes off the front of his coat. "Well then, see you the day after tomorrow. Same table here, but before sunrise. With your stuff."

"Already?!"

"Yes, already. I'm sure Kella will allow you to make the trip tomorrow, despite the rules-as she always does, when you tell her your oh so heart-wrenching stories." The man picks up his amulet from the table and exits through the main entrance of the guild, leaving Clint alone in the dimly lit main hall to stare down at the textures of the table surface.

Clint looks over to Kella and Rev, who are in the middle of preparing the counter for the night shift. No wonder, the hooded man chose a table as far away as possible from the guild staff. Kella can't stick her nose into matters, that she doesn't have concrete proof of. One such proof can be her, as a guild master, directly overhearing a suspicious conversation.

Clint slowly stands up from the table and drags his feet towards the stairs. Just thinking about what he will have to part with tomorrow, opens up a void in his heart. His parents sacrificed a lot to acquire the gear for him. Some parts of it even deserve to be called artifacts.

"Clint." Kellas voice cuts through his fogged up mind. He turns his eyes to her.

"When you go get your stuff tomorrow", she continues, "take lady Fylka with you."

"...what?"

"You heard me."

He has no energy left to complain or ask for details. All he can muster now, at the end of this forsaken day, is a simple "Why?"

Kella inhales slowly, before she explains: "Rev has done some digging. That hairy missy hasn't been to Ryelope before. Gods, she might've never been in Tyllat even! And no connections to anyone in the city before her arrival yesterday."

"...so?"

"I think, you won't regret having a third, unaffiliated party with you. A witness as unbiased as they can get. And she happens to be noble."

"But she tried..."

"I know, how you feel about her.", Rev interjects with a reassuring smile, "but you know what lady Fylka said? That something doesn't feel right about this situation with you. Even your supposed opponent of a noble doesn't consider you guilty."

"Just take her with you. If she's up to something, tell me. I'll take care of it, I promise.", Kella adds.

Clint rubs his left upper arm. "Honestly, it's very hard to believe. And I don't understand your talk about some unaffiliated party." He looks at Kella. "But it's an order from the guild master, isn't it.", he finishes with a weak smile.

"Yep, so take care. You won't regret it. I'll tell you, once you can leave the guild tomorrow.", says Kella, Rev nodding alongside her words.

"Got it... boss.", Clint replies. He doesn't understand, why they both have so much faith in him. But even if he disappoints Kella soon on the job and gets kicked out, he's glad to get even just a few moments of warmth from someone other than his long gone family-for a last time, before the cliffs may take his soul.