Unburdening

In the dimly lit apartment, Argon sprawled across his shabby chair, an air of impatience permeating the room. The worn-out cushions felt lumpy beneath him, but the hunter paid them no mind. His gaze fixated on the creaky wooden door, fingers drumming rhythmically against the armrest. Each second echoed Argon's increasing restlessness.

After some time, Brolan entered the apartment, his arms laden with a new sack filled with fresh produce - root vegetables, cured meats, and a loaf of bread peeked from the top. A rolled-up, bulky rug was slung over his other shoulder, no doubt an attempt to make his bedding a bit more comfortable. "Took me longer than I thought," he began. "I met Charles. Didn't have a clue who I was at first, till I said you were my boss. Suddenly he was all smiles and warm welcomes. Grateful for the gold he was."

Argon looked up from his resting position, a brow raised. "So, he gave you a solution to our problem?"

Brolan nodded, "Sort of. He said it's why he'd given you the info in the first place. Expects us to sell him the loot we found at wholesale. Said to bring the rest from the chest and he'd store the pouches in his shop for now. Wants you to go in through the back next time."

"Hmm," Argon mused, stroking his chin, "Guess it's one way to solve the issue. Alright, seems like we're making a delivery tomorrow." He said with a grin.

Argon regarded the new purchases with a nod of approval. "Alright, Brolan, you're on house duty from now on," he grumbled, gesturing towards the sack and the rug. "Cooking, cleaning, all that shit - it's on you."

Brolan blinked, a bit taken aback, but nodded his understanding. Argon fished around in his pocket and tossed him four gold coins. "Two for future supplies and two for whatever you fancy. Don't spend it all in one place."

In the dimly lit room, Brolan busied himself with the task at hand - preparing their meal. He sorted through the sack, selecting root vegetables and cured meat to cook. He skillfully chopped the vegetables on a rough wooden cutting board, his movements sure and efficient. Each piece fell in a rhythmic thud, creating a soothing backdrop to the crackling fire.

The air began to fill with a savoury aroma as Brolan added the chopped ingredients into a pot placed over the glowing coals. The meat sizzled as it hit the hot surface, and Brolan stirred the mix, the sound of the spoon scraping the pot mixed with the crackling fire, creating a harmony that reverberated around the room.

As the evening darkened outside, the room was illuminated by the warm glow of the fire. Shadows flickered and danced on the walls, casting an intimate veil over the modest living space. The men sat on the worn-out table, the rough texture of the wood contrasting with the warmth of the fire and the hearty meal before them.

They ate in silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of utensils against the ceramic bowls and the occasional satisfied grunt. As the meal was concluded, an atmosphere of contentment fell over the room. With bellies full and the fire dwindling to soft embers, they slumped down onto their respective beds, the weight of the day sinking them into a deep, restful sleep. The room was now only dimly lit by the glowing embers, their soft light flickering against the weary faces of the men as they succumbed to the tranquillity of sleep. The day's ordeal was forgotten for the night.

The morning light streamed through the cracks in the shutters as Argon and Brolan stirred from their makeshift beds. Argon yawned and stretched, rising to his feet and moving to the fire pit. He poked at the dying coals, stirring them back to life. "Brolan, heat up the leftover soup, would you?" he grunted, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Brolan complied without complaint, the two men eating in silence, the only sound the clinking of spoons against bowls and the crackling of the fire.

Finishing his meal, Argon turned to his companion. "I'm off to see Charles with the chest. You're in charge of the apartment while I'm gone," he said, handing Brolan a key. "Use the coins i gave you to buy whatever we need. Food, supplies buy some nice stuff. We're rich now. " His tone was casual, but the look in his eyes told Brolan he meant business.

With a nod of agreement, the two men split up, each embarking on their own mission for the day. The streets of Duskhaven were already busy, filled with merchants and the usual rabble. Argon kept his hand on the chest under his arm as he walked, lost in thoughts of his impending meeting with Charles.

Argon navigated the winding streets of Duskhaven, eventually reaching the familiar façade of Charles' shop. The back entrance was tucked away in a narrow alley concealed behind a pile of wooden crates. The door itself was aged, its paint chipping and its wood warped from the weather, yet it held a sense of intrigue, almost as if it was guarding untold secrets.

Knocking on the door, Argon shifted his grip on the chest under his arm, anxiously anticipating the impending conversation. The door creaked open, revealing Charles' sharp features lit by the glow of the shop's interior.

"Ah, Argon, my friend!" Charles greeted, his eyes flicking briefly to the chest under Argon's arm before returning to meet his gaze. "I've heard whispers of your recent escapades. It appears our information was rather... fruitful, wouldn't you say?" He gave a sly grin, stepping back and motioning for Argon to enter the shop.

Charles was laying it on thick, clearly delighted by Argon's successful venture. While Argon appreciated the acknowledgement, he was wary of the merchant's sycophantic behaviour. But for now, he had a business deal to settle. He heaved the chest onto a nearby table and opened it, revealing the glittering trove of stolen goods.

"By the way, Argon. Sending your little bitch boy to do your dirty work now, too mighty for humble Charles are ya?" Charles grumbled, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He began sifting through the items, studying the jewellery and statues with a discerning eye.

"There's some valuable stuff here. I'll give you... 200 gold for the lot," Charles finally stated, looking up at Argon expectantly.

"What the fuck, Charles? These goods are worth double that, and you know it!" Argon retorted, his gaze fixed on the merchant.

"But who else is going to buy them, Argon?" Charles replied with a hint of smugness in his voice. "Remember, you got this loot because of my info. I have you by the balls, and we both know it."

Argon clenched his jaw. He knew Charles had him cornered, but he wasn't about to back down so easily. "Give me an extra 20 gold, Charles. It's the least you can do."

Charles sighed dramatically as if he was making a grand concession. "Fine, Argon. 220 gold. But don't think you're going to get this Sort of deal every time." Despite his gruff exterior, there was a sly twinkle in his eyes, indicating he saw this as a victory.

Argon couldn't help but feel slightly played, but he wasn't going to let it show.

As Argon narrates the events that took place, Charles listens with a calculating gaze.

"Shit, Argon. I'm impressed you're still in one piece," Charles responds, shock evident in his voice. "There's about twenty or so bandits that roam those parts. You and Brolan are lucky you only ran into a few of them."

Argon's mind is already racing at this information. He wonders about the wealth the bandit leader must possess, considering the fortune he and Brolan just uncovered from a few bandits' stash. The potential of such a haul is enticing but dangerous.

"Yeah, well, good thing we didn't meet the whole fucking group," Argon grumbles, but he can't shake the thought of what could be. Could they take on a larger group for a bigger prize? Could they find and eliminate the leader for a massive haul? The idea is risky but compelling.

"Argon, I've got something to show you," Charles said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Follow me."

Leading Argon through a narrow hallway that wound around the back of the shop, Charles stops before a plain wooden door, inconspicuous amidst the clutter and bustle of the merchant store. The air hums with unspoken secrecy, adding an element of suspense to the situation.

Argon follows Charles into the storage room, a room that seems almost hidden. It's a large, windowless space, lit by strategically placed oil lamps that cast a warm, inviting glow on everything within. Shelves line the walls, filled to the brim with scrolls and books of various shapes and sizes. The smell of aged paper and ink fills the air, a comforting scent for anyone who values knowledge and information.

The real surprise, however, lies in the middle of the room. A large, heavy oak table, worn from years of use, is laden with treasures. Nine artefacts of different shapes and sizes are neatly arranged across the table, each radiating a sense of power and mystery that makes Argon's artefact seem insignificant. Among them are precious stones of varying hues, glittering under the soft light, a few pieces of the sought-after Dayless Steel ingots, and a couple of beautifully crafted armour pieces.

"Holy shit, Charles," Argon gasps, unable to hide his awe and shock. "This is some next-level shit."

Charles grins, clearly pleased by Argon's reaction. "Welcome to the big leagues, Argon," he replies with a certain pride in his voice. "A valued customer like you deserves a sneak peek into the treasures of my little empire."