99 CHPT 99: Intimidators

The free time Claude was left with after hunting for breakfast with Frosty was eaten up by a plethora of rigorous activities. Some new, some old.

After he was done eating he tried skinning his first deer. The process was surprisingly simple after he got the hang of it. With a little more practice, Arne said he teach him about vegetable tanning to create durable leather that could be used for armor or be sold for even more than simple deer pelt.

Once he was finished with that, he took the bones that he didn't break from the deer and used his sword to whittle them into weapons such a spears, daggers and his favorite; short spears. The bone weapons looked nice and felt lightweight, but he preferred his original weapons and the wooden short spears he already trained with on the side.

He then spent a good portion of his day training with all the weapons he had at his disposal. He used Bane of the Undead for the longest to try and understand the feel of the white stone blade and get comfortable with it so he could confidently use it in battle.

After he more than doubled his racial requirement of 90 minutes of exercise, he cooled off in a nearby river with Frosty and then read until the sun began to settle behind the trees that surrounded him. Night was coming.

***

Claude reflected on the events that took place during his first weekend as a Hero while he put on his armor and placed the Camo Rune on Frosty. He killed a man.... a woman..... many times over. If Hell was as real as he thought, then he was sure he'd find himself in the deepest and hottest portion of it when his time came. He felt sick at the irony of that fact. As soon as he became a Hero, he killed like a monster.

"[Claude, you need to think about something else. Think about the good you did yesterday— think about the good you can do tonight. Use that impressive focus and determination all Potentials have and set your sights on the way you can balance out your perceived acts of evil with acts of Heroism.]" Arne said.

Arne's words soothed Claude's troubled mind, the idea behind them gave him hope. Hope that maybe he could truly feel good again.

"Focus....focus on the good I can do tonight. Focus on getting stronger so I don't lose anymore.....don't lose control.....don't lose my mind....don't lose my friends." He silently whispered to himself as he sheathed his swords.

"Let's go Frosty." He said once he grabbed the deer pelt he slung over a tree and headed out of the forest circle.

Frosty barked happily and trotted behind him as they jogged out into the night.

***

He kept his mind focused on the good he could do tonight as he ran through the night, past carriage after carriage. Until he was once again at the gates of SkyHaven.

"Ron.....it's him again." He heard the guard say as him and Frosty approached the gate.

He was welcomed by an overwhelming scent of fear as the main guard— Ron, moved to open the gate for him.

Ron nodded curly to him but never looked Claude directly in his eyes.

He ignored him and the rest of the guards and jogged deeper into the city in a rush to reach a Merchant and the SkyLight Guildhall.

He was stopped not even 20 steps into the jog by something that caught his eye. A headline on the newspaper stand.

The last time he actually read a newspaper from the usually crowded stand was when he killed the HellBred Mother Snake. It felt good to be noticed for committing such an impressive feat. He didn't feel that way this time, he felt...paranoid....raw and exposed. So much so that as he read the headline, he flinched and growled as people walked behind him or stopped to look over the newspaper with him.

"Vicious Maniac Heartlessly Rips Through a Group of Nomadic Travelers Leaving Them All DEAD and Ripped to Shreds!"

His heart felt like it was crawling up his throat as he read the headline. Aside from it reminding him of what he had done. It was also misleading.

"I hope they catch that monster."

"What's the city coming to?"

People said as they quickly looked over the headline and continued walking to their destinations.

"They weren't Nomadic Travelers! Those were Raiders!" Claude thought in anger. He read more of the paper and found it saying they could've been Raiders in fine print in one of the last paragraphs of the paper. Unfortunately, nobody cared enough to read them any further after the fear inducing headline gave them everything they assumed they needed.

"[Journalists tend to say whatever gets the most attention, Claude.]" Arne told him.

"What kind dirtbag does that?" He replied.

"[A broke one....]" Arne said.

Claude shook his head angrily and walked away from the stand in search of a Merchant buying animal parts.

"[Claude, that newspaper may cause us some problems.]" Arne said.

"How so?" Claude asked.

"[Detectives, Claude. Det. Cyrene may be psychotic and violent, but she's smart. She's going to hear of the attack and get to work immediately— if she hasn't already. Once she studies the claw and tooth markings on them all, she'll probably begin sweeping the city for any man with animalistic traits and interrogate them on the spot.]"

"Alright, I'll be more careful. Plus, I won't be here during the week so as long as I get through tonight I should be good."

The thought of being caught by her sent a wicked chill down his spine as he continued to search for a Merchant.

After a few more minutes, he found a cart at the entrance of the Hero area— in front of an alley between a weapon-smith shop and a clothing shop. The cart was littered with beautiful pelts and leathers hung up inside, behind the man sitting at the window. His tanned skin mimicked the hard leathers behind him telling Claude he spent a lot of time outside. The man looked to be in his late 50s and had a round body from lack of physical activity or an over abundance of food. Probably both.

"Ahhhh, a Night Runner looking to sell? I must be dreaming!" He said in a scratchy high voice as Claude approached with his pelt in hand.

Claude met the mans eyes and realized the Merchant wanted him to laugh.

"How much for this pelt, sir." Claude said flatly while looking into the man's eyes.

"[Well, so much for buttering up the man you plan to sell to.]" Arne said as the Merchants face lost its happy expression.

"What the hell did he expect? That wasn't funny....and I can't fake laugh." Claude thought in reply.

".....Well, why don't you bring it over and let me take a look.". The Merchant said after a few seconds.

"Of course." Claude replied as he passed the pelt.

The Merchant took the pelt, carrying it with professional courtesy and understanding as he studied it.

"Your deer pelt here is uhhhh.....it's missing it's legs.....and the ends here are torn— flayed....like it's throats been ripped out." The man said after looking it over for a few minutes.

"...."

"...."

"...Shit."

"Sir?" The Merchant said.

"Uhm. Right. After I killed it, a nearby pack of wolves took the kill.....i fought them off, but not before they were able to damage it...."

"Damn wolves amirite? Hate those four legged bastards haha!" The Merchant interrupted while slapping the counter of his desk.

Claude heard Frosty begin to growl at the man angrily, so he quickly spoke to overpower the PitWolfs noise.

"—Plus, I'm fairly new at this so I did the best I could with what I had." He said— ignoring the Merchants comment on Wolves.

The sudden smell of greed spilled out of the Merchants cart like thick black smoke billowing out of a house fire. The strength of it reminded him of the way Goblins smelled and set him on edge.

"[That was a mistake, Claude. Never tell these guys your new at anything! He's going to try and lowball you now. Be careful.]" Arne said.

Claude looked up at the man just in time to see a greedy grin leaving his face. He no longer looked interested in making crappy jokes or trying to relate to him after hearing Claude was a novice in the trade of furs and leathers.

"Well....hehe....new or old. You came to the right place, my friend. Now, since the legs are in fact missing and the fur is a little ruined in places....it's going to sell for less. On average, furs are around 5 coppers, but for this one, I can give you 2." The Merchant said with a devious glint in his eyes.

"[You slimy fat tub of lard, that wasn't even a realistic lie!]" Arne raged in his mind.

"What is?" Claude asked.

"[Pelts in my time were 10 coppers, money hasn't changed that much. He's scamming you, and I don't think there's much you can do. Dammit!]" Arne said angrily.

"I'm not going out like that." Claude thought.

"Two it is, sir." He said as the man began giddily digging for money.

"Here you are..." the Merchant said while handing him two dirty coppers. "Pleasure doing business." He added.

"Likewise." Claude said, pretending to leave. After taking a few steps away from the Merchant he looked around for any people, noticing only a drunken couple heading into a bar down the street. Nobody was around.

He growled silently as he turned to walk back to the Merchant.

All he could see was the mans flabby round back as he silently approached the cart again, he could hear the man giggling to himself while he folded up the pelt and stored it away.

Once he reached the cart, he silently waited for the man to finish his work as the smell of greed began to make him sick.

"Ah! By God you scared the daylights out of me!" The Merchant said once he turned to find Claude staring straight down at him.

"Sorry..." Claude replied.

"How can I help you? You wouldn't happen to have another pelt for me, would you?" The man asked.

"[This bastard.]" Arne interjected.

"No, I don't." He replied.

"Well how can I help you?" The Merchant asked.

Claude stared at the man for a moment, letting his hatred and agitation change him in mind and body just enough to be almost noticeable. The rush of anger washed away any awkward or skittish tendencies he would've had as he spoke.

"You see...these coppers feel a little light." He said as he stepped closer to the cart, reaching into his pocket to pull them out.

The Merchant looked at him with confusion as Claude shook the coppers in his hand. His confusion started to mix with the fear that was creeping and festering inside him as Claude stepped closer, highlighting their difference in size. The man had to be at most, 5'3, While Claude casually loomed over him at 6'4.

"If I were to get a second opinion, they wouldn't tell me 2 coppers is a scam would they?" He said as he slid the coppers across the desk towards the Merchant. By the time he finished speaking, his voice was an octave lower than before.

"Uhh....ehehe....well it all depends on wh—....." the Merchant trailed off as he looked down at Claude's two fingers sliding the coppers to him. His long white claws tore through his gloves and stabbed into them firmly.

He moved his fingers away from the coins and tapped his claws against the desk in a quiet slow rhythm as he spoke.

"Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once. I've had a rough weekend....so I'm not in the best place right now—mentally. If I find out you took advantage of my lack of understanding for your own selfish gain, I can't promise you I won't convince myself to come back here and RIP YOUR ARMS OFF!" Claude roared.

The man jumped in fear and turned to try and run from his cart. As he turned and headed out the back, a deep and throaty growl resonated from the alley ahead of him, causing him to freeze where he stood.

Claude looked to his side and realized Frosty's hazy outline wasn't near him. He didn't even remember telling Frosty to go around back.

"[I think I'm starting to like the furball.]" Arne said.

Claude smiled to himself before speaking to the Merchant again.

"Hey, where the hell do you think your going?" Claud asked him.

"T-there's something in t-the alley....." The Merchant said.

"No there isn't."

"B-But—"

"What do you see?" Claude interrupted, knowing the man couldn't see a thing.

"Well, I—"

"Exactly, there's nothing. Now turn around and be honest with me." Claude said.

The Merchant slowly turned around and stepped back into the cart, his clothing was darkened by sweat and he reeked of fear.

"Now, how much is the damn pelt really worth?" Claude asked. Green sparks erupted behind his eyes from the smell of fear enticing him.

"I....uhh....I'm sorry, I think my math was off. High quality pelts go for around ten....so yours is five...." The man stuttered out.

Claude began tapping his claws on the desk even louder and picked up speed.

"But! Uhhhh....heheheh....For your troubles, I'll throw in three more...." The man said before digging around for 6 extra coppers to hand him.

"Hm. How kind." Claude said before removing his hand from the desk.

"Here you are, sir." He said as he handed him the coppers hesitantly.

Beads of sweat raced down his head and dripped from his chin. He flinched as Claude brought his hand out to take the coins. A look of discomfort and confusion found its way on his face once he noticed the claws that previously stuck out of his gloves were completely gone.

"Pleasure doing business." Claude mocked as he took the money and walked off whistling for Frosty to follow.

He walked down the street towards the SkyLight guildhall trying to erase the electrifying smell of fear from his mind and stuff his anger away at the back of his mind.

"[I still think you should have punched him at least.]" Arne suddenly said.

"Me too."