The old man gave Jack a creepy grin and chuckled as he stood amongst a display of manikins, showcasing new leather armour. “What about an elven dagger?” the shopkeeper asked. “Wyvern bone handle, the blade’s a mithril alloy, imbued with high-quality aether crystals to improve its rune enchantments.”
Jack went to shake his head and heard another small noise, like something shifting behind him. Glancing back, he saw nothing. “I already…” He cut his words short at the shock of finding the old man gone again. What the hell?
“Come, come. Come see. Come see this,” the shopkeeper called from behind the counter, one hand waving Jack over.
“How the hell did he do that?” Jack muttered. He has to be a high-level assassin.
In the old man’s hand, he held a beautiful dagger. It had intricate rune enchantments adorning the white bone handle that even in the subdued light of Nighthawk and Raven glimmered.
“Wouldn’t that be a bad idea, having a shining handle for an assassin’s blade?” Jack asked as he approached the counter for a closer look at the dagger.
The old man smirked and shook his head. “Halya.” The dagger shivered and then vanished. “Elven made,” the merchant said, “Ancient runes. Very rare… but affordable.”
Jack wet his lips, feeling the quiet pull of temptation in the dim, dangerous shop. “Nice…” His hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his own dagger, and… lost interest in the flashy elven blade. It wasn’t for him. He shook his head and scanned the rest of the shop to see what else was on offer. Just the mask… or a little more protection?
The old vendor’s humped shoulders slumped at Jack’s disinterest in the dagger. “Nanhalya,” he said, and the dagger reappeared.
Impressive enchantment, Jack thought as he returned to browsing the shop. He hadn’t planned to spend extra, but the itch of survival needed to be scratched. I can always earn more coin. Can’t buy a new life, he mused while looking through what else the shop had to offer. Something caught his eye. Ooh, I should get a pair of those.
Jack continued browsing what the Nighthawk and Raven shop had to offer. His eyes drifted towards the rows of soft-soled boots displayed along a low shelf.
He spotted a pair of midnight black boots, crafted from supple leather, the kind that promised muffled steps and silent movement even on creaky floorboards. Those would be useful; they’d add to the effects of [Silent Step]. Especially if I’m going to track and kill four adventurers. The thought of killing four people in cold blood caused a shiver to run the length of his spine. He shook the feeling away. I don’t have a choice.
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He picked up a pair of soft-soled boots in black leather, feeling the lightness in his hand, and tested the flexibility of the sole. He’d worn similar while stalking Greaves. But then he caught the price tag. “Damn… 75 silvers!” he muttered under his breath.
“Ah, quality costs, boy, quality costs,” came the soft voice right by his ear.
“Fuck!” Jack jumped and turned. The old man had snuck up on him again without triggering [Assassin’s Intuition]. How is he doing that?
The old man chuckled, already two paces away, pretending to adjust a mannequin’s leather tunic.
Jack exhaled and glared at the old assassin. Stop sneaking up on me, old man! I think I peed a little! He put the pair of boots back and turned to where the rogue armour was displayed. Sleek black leather tunics reinforced with fine steel mesh, finger-length pauldrons, and padded bracers. Armour light enough to keep your agility but tough enough to save your life in a tight spot.
He stroked one of the sets, imagining how it would let him blend in with the shadows, how many more fights he might survive. But again… 1 gold and 80 silvers, he mused in silence, not wanting to give the old man an opening to make him jump again.
Jack sighed, shaking his head. That would come close to emptying his purse of coin. No, no… focus. You don’t need to look like an assassin; you just need to not get caught. He continued to browse the shop and paused at a display of archery supplies. I’d better get some more cheap practice arrows, he thought, remembering he’d given Toma four of his arrows, which left him with only six of the basic ones. He also had over thirty of the serrated-tipped arrows he’d looted from the rogue, but they weren’t suitable for practising.
“How much?” he said aloud, this time making the lurking old man jump. There was a muffled yelp, and the merchant popped up from behind a display stand, dusting off his knees.
“Erm, 12… 12 coppers each,” the merchant stammered.
Jack smiled at his reaction, having guessed the old man was hiding in his shadow. Ha, caught him off guard. He smirked. “I’ll take a dozen cheap ones, please,” he replied, stifling a chuckle.
The old man squinted at him but said nothing.
He spent a few minutes trying on archery gloves. Though the bowstring wasn’t bothering his fingers so far, it made sense to wear gloves when practising. They’ll do. Just 5 silvers. He’d grabbed himself a basic pair of leather archery gloves, nothing special about them.
A central display of small drones caught his attention. Are they spy drones? He picked up one of the beetle-shaped mechanisms. Unlike the similarly shaped messenger drones, these were painted black for stealth. Jack turned the drone over to see if he could figure out what it did. “What do th…”
He was interrupted by the old man’s voice coming from behind the display. “That one fires a small poison dart,” the shopkeeper said as he walked out from behind the display. “Only 12 gold for the drone. 1 gold per poison dart… the poison’s good for two years and requires the touch of an Expert Healer, guaranteed.”
Jack frowned at the old man who kept popping up on him and put the drone back. He must get bored working here all day to spend so much time scaring customers. He looked around the empty shop. Explains why I’m the only customer.
The old shopkeeper chuckled.
Chapter 098 Unattended Children Will Be Put To Work
