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Chapter 7: The First Contract

  Narrator: Faurgar

  She returned to the table calm and fluid, like a receding wave. Priorin had already stood up and gave me a short nod toward the stairs. Gellia took her token, Flint vanished somewhere, and I remained, staring at the bottom of my empty cup.

  "Staying?" Leliana asked.

  I didn't play the part of the loyal operational officer. At that moment, I thought of Anakis. Our relationship had always resembled two parallel lines: we could spend months in the same space without ever getting under each other's skin. Two avoidant types, more comfortable in polite coolness than in the fire of passion. Leliana was of the same breed—mysterious, guarded, requiring no oaths unto death. It wasn't a "betrayal" of the past; it was a transition into a different, yet familiar coordinate system. Only now, instead of the corridors of Vellaris, there was magic and the whisper of the Forbidden Lands.

  We went up to her room. A window, a candle, a silence that didn't press, but enveloped.

  But I couldn't relax.

  Later, when Leliana fell asleep, I lay in the darkness and stared at the ceiling. My thoughts weren't on her. They were on Mangratum’s Shield, which now lay behind the wall in the Leonin's room. I felt it the way a professional thief feels the lock of a safe containing the royal treasury. It wasn't some dramatic "resonance" from a ballad—it was a technical itch. The Shield was a complex computational circuit, a perfect instrument of protection, and Priorin was using it like a reinforced pot lid.

  All night I didn't close my eyes. I rehearsed scenarios in my head: how to convince this mountain of muscle that the shield required not strength, but the correct angle of adjustment? How to make my fingers touch its grip? I began to understand Flint and his Boots. We hadn't just found the gear of the ancients—мы voluntarily put on leashes.

  The common room was mostly empty in the morning. Leliana was nowhere to be seen—hostesses of her level don't come down for breakfast with the guests. I went downstairs feeling as if I’d been put through a rock crusher. Priorin sat at a corner table, Gellia gloomily poked at her porridge, and Flint looked around nervously as if expecting an inquisition to jump out from under the floor.

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  I sat in an empty chair and laid out the map Leliana had given me before I left.

  "We have a contract," I said, trying to make my voice sound steady. "We need to return the Scroll. The Score that the dragon dragged into the abyss to the east. The price—lodging, food, and information."

  Priorin slowly raised his gaze to me. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

  "You’re taking too much on yourself, Faurgar," he growled. "You spent a night with the hostess and decided you're in charge now? I decide where we go. And I’m not going to stick my head into a dragon's maw for a scrap of paper."

  "The dragon is young," I countered, not breaking eye contact. "A 'Deep Singer.' He’s not so much dangerous as he is greedy for sounds. Besides, we need a base. Magellan is prowling nearby, and the Green Monk is somewhere in these parts. Leliana knows more about him than she lets on. Но she won't say a word until we return her damn Scroll."

  "A dragon?" Flint choked on his ale. "Are you joking? It’s... well, it’s a dragon! It has teeth the size of my head! Maybe we just... well, buy some other sheet music? Or find another Monk? There are plenty of them in Vellaris."

  "It’s a unique item, Flint," I snapped. "Without it, the Valley will grow cold. We’ll find ourselves in the frost in three days."

  Gellia, who had been silent until then, suddenly raised her head. Her gaze was heavy and bored.

  "We are wasting time on some music box," she remarked. "Bandits are at the gate robbing caravans. To the north is Akolis, where my brothers from Erthrusia are seeking shrines. And we’re going to play hide-and-seek with a lizard? This isn't Justice, Faurgar. This is courier work."

  "Justice is hard to stomach on an empty stomach, Gellia," I turned my gaze back to Priorin. "We need allies. Leliana is the best option. Besides, Priorin, a battle with a dragon—isn't that exactly why you carry that shield? Or do you plan to protect yourself with it only from drunken mercenaries in bars?"

  Priorin loomed over the table, his mane bristling. For several seconds, we played a game of stares. He felt his leadership slipping away, and he hated it.

  "Fine," he finally exhaled, the sound like a shifting avalanche. "We go for the scroll. But if it all goes to hell, Faurgar, I’ll personally use you as cover for the beast's first breath."

  "Fair enough," I nodded. "We head out in an hour."

  I stood up, feeling the burn from Mangratum’s Shield on my back. I knew I wasn't leading them for Leliana or for the "Warm Place." I was leading them where the combat technique would force Priorin to make a mistake, and then I would finally be able to show him how that piece of metal actually works.

  The Leash of the Ancients.

  Key Highlights:

  


      


  1.   Faurgar’s Obsession: The way he looks at Priorin’s Shield isn't greed; it’s an intellectual and magical "itch." He views his companions as inefficient users of perfect tools. This is a dangerous mindset for a "support" character.

      


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  3.   The Deep Singer Contract: We have our first official "Boss Quest" of Part 2. The transition from soldiers to "couriers" is a blow to Gellia’s pride, but as Faurgar points out: Justice is hard to pursue on an empty stomach.

      


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  5.   Priorin’s Defensiveness: The Leonin feels his authority slipping. He’s reacting with aggression because he knows Faurgar is right about the logic, even if he hates the messenger.

      


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  Mechanic Highlight: The Technical Itch. In my campaign notes, I track a hidden stat called Artifact Sync. Faurgar is at 0%, but his proximity to the others is forcing a "Phantom Resonance." He’s starting to see the world through the lens of Milather’s logic, which makes him more effective but far less empathetic.

  Questions for the readers:

  


      


  1.   Faurgar vs. Priorin: Whose side are you on? Is Faurgar's manipulation necessary for survival, or is he overstepping his bounds?

      


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  3.   The Deep Singer: What do you imagine a dragon "greedy for sounds" looks like?

      


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  5.   Gellia’s Path: She feels like a "broken blade." Do you think she can find a new purpose in Akolis, or is she lost forever?

      


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