You remember hearing somewhere that the best way to lie to someone was to tell the truth.
"I was attacked," you say, utterly deadpan, "by a giant centipede monster." Your lips twitch by just a fraction.
The woman shows no reaction whatsoever to what you just said, but the man gave a little jerk. You turn to stare at him. "You know what it is?"
But it was the woman who spoke first. "Yes." She clears her throat. "Pavlos," she says quietly. "You may leave."
The man nearly runs out of the room.
"Right, now that he's out of the way..." the woman muttered. "I know what you are."
Your veins fill with ice. You stand up abruptly, and reach for your sword.
It's not there.
She grins at you. "Missing something?" She suddenly shrugs. "Well, you aren't going to find it here."
"Where is my sword?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
"Ah," she says simply. "I don't know."
"Anyway," she adds, "you have better things to worry about, don't you think Like how you're going to repay your debt."
"I'm not working for you," you snap.
The old woman looks at you, and you can see the gears turning behind her eyes. Something clicks, and she seems to come to a decision.
"Alright," she replies with sudden nonchalance. "You can leave."
"What?" you say disbelievingly.
"You can leave," she repeated. "Out the door. Right now. I ain't stopping you."
You keep your eyes on the woman as you move toward the door, wary of the cleaver. She just yawns.
You open the door by a crack. Nothing. You look around, including up and down. Nothing.
You turn around, and the woman has moved to sit on the couch, a bottle in her hands. She stares at you pointedly.
This was bizarre, but...
You feel her eyes on your back as you leave without another word.
You were outside that woman's house, on the outskirts of the village.
You had to find your sword. And manacles, you suppose. You couldn't do much without a weapon, and your father didn't seem like the understanding type.
You could try finding Pavlos. He seemed more than a little suspicious to you.
Or you could try asking around in the village. The farmhands were undoubtedly off in the fields by now, but some traders and craftsmen might have seen the thief.
Or...Eugene the melon farmer, and his mysterious extortionist. Both of them gave you the feeling that this village wasn't as innocuous as it seemed. It wasn't related to your sword, but you had a feeling it could be important nonetheless.
Seek...Seek...Lest
[x] Pavlos
[x] Village workers
[x] Eugene
[x] Eugene's harasser
The market square is little more than a square of paved dirt, surrounded by a cobbled path, but it is enormous.
The place was almost suffocating, with the sheer amount of people inside. Men, women, children, walking and running, buying and selling, clubbing and beating...
You grind to a halt. Some unfortunate soul in front of a large orange tent had been clubbed over the head by an armored, thuggish guard. No one as much as batted an eye as he picked him up like like a sack of potatoes and threw him into the street.
...you decide to not go there.
After some deliberation, you end up in front of another stall, which you recognize as one you saw earlier, in the morning. It was a woodcarver's stand - little whittled figures of various gods lay on shelves, alongside more mundane items like cups and bowls. A small sign read: Commissions closed.
You take your place in the line, keeping an eye on...everything.
You see a little girl pocket the purse of an inattentive old man as her accomplice distracted him.
A servant carrying a large create rested against a wall, wiping the sweat off her brow.
An annoyed-looking man is taking out one...two...three bags of gold coins, each the size of your head...for a tiny jar of-
"Hello! How may I help you?"
You snap back to the present, and only then do you register the stallowner (a balding middle-aged man) glaring at you with the hatred of a thousand suns.
You put on what hopefully looked like a friendly smile. "Do you know where a pawnbroker is? I-"
"Big orange tent on the east side of the square," the stallowner said shortly. He gave the next customer an enormous, hate-filled smile. "Hello! How many I help you?"
You figured that asking specifically for the sword would lead you nowhere. Looking for a place where items could be sold, however, could get you somewhere.
You wade through the crowd, which squeezes and jostles and occasionally steps on your toes. The pawnbroker's tent appears within sight.
You knew it was coming, but you groan anyway. It was the tent you saw earlier. The guard gives you a filthy look as you step inside.
The inside of the pawnbroker's shop is quite unimpressive. You see a modest amount of jewelry on display, a few battered pieces of furniture on one side, and some gardening implements, lying on cheap rugs and tables. What piques your interest are the locked chests in the back, where the true valuables where undoubtedly stored.
The pawnbroker turns out to be a irritated-looking, heavily bearded man who appeared to be wearing a large green bathrobe. "Buying or selling?" he grunts.
"I'm buying a sword," you say, as politely as you can manage.
"Don't see any money on you, sir."
You take out your pouch, which held nothing but your manacles at the moment. But it was a sack that jangled and had stuff in it, and so the man sighed and shoved a large, unmarked casket in front.
The pawnbroker produces a key, glancing at you with casual suspicion. A click and a kick later, the chest's contents are bared to see.
Several swords lay inside, all of them worn and ragged in one way or another. And near the top is one particularly battered sword, with a long line of corrosion running down the blade.
That was yours, you are certain of it. You had it pointed at you often enough.
You motion toward it wordlessly, and the man rolls his eyes and brings it to a table.
"That'll be three drachma."
More than a day's wages for a sword that wasn't even in "okay" condition was preposterous. It was kind of besides the point, since you didn't have any money anyway, but still.
The pawnbroker is starting to stare at you, suspicion mounting.
What should you do?
A Plan
[x] Grab the sword and run for it.
[x] Grab the sword and threaten him with it.
[x] Sucker punch him.
[x] Just leave.
Might as well do it the pacifist way. Even though crime seems to run rampant with no law enforcement, I feel like the owner is one of those "death baiters". Pretty sure they have another name among hardcore RPG fans, but it's those NPCs that seem to be easily killable until you actually fight/threaten them and they beat the living lights out of you (*cough* pretty much every comic relief cartoon character *cough*)
What my yearbook quote should be: "Fluorine Uranium Carbon Potassium Ytrrium Oxygen Uranium Bismuth Technetium Einsteinium"
SMITEFire is the place to find the perfect build guide to take your game to the next level. Learn how to play a new god, or fine tune your favorite SMITE gods’s build and strategy.
ThePerfectPrism
<Mage Master>
Awards Showcase
Distinguished (56)
Posts: 1701
View My Blog
Subzero008
Renowned (112)
Posts: 4262
View My Blog
TheGenocideLord
Awards Showcase
Memorable (13)
Posts: 617
View My Blog
Subzero008
Renowned (112)
Posts: 4262
View My Blog
Wolfman5665
Remarkable (6)
Posts: 362
View My Blog
Subzero008
Renowned (112)
Posts: 4262
View My Blog
Wolfman5665
Remarkable (6)
Posts: 362
View My Blog
Subzero008
Renowned (112)
Posts: 4262
View My Blog
Subzero008
Renowned (112)
Posts: 4262
View My Blog
TheGenocideLord
Awards Showcase
Memorable (13)
Posts: 617
View My Blog