Mapavon
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A rainy day in Battleon.
Chapter one: Yulgar's fortune was targeted by thieves.
Just like all days, Yulgar's Inn was crowded. Daily, many adventurers tired of battling or doing quests sat on the rotten wooden chairs scattered throughout the amazingly big main room, most asking for beer. Magically, the innkeeper always had a mug pouring with his bubbly home-made white lightning. On the vignette (his basement) a secret room which only Yulgar had the keys kept the gold. In order to have enough space to accommodate the piles of golden coins received daily, he asked for dwarfs to mine even deeper. Differently from the popular's rumors, the man was incredibly rich but had no idea of how to use all his money. But for him, the smile of his parish was his payment while his gold was just guarded for maintain the supplies and pay the expenses. Weekly, Yulgar took a quantity of his gold and put on his backpack carried by a magic moglin and crossed the most unknown regions of Lore looking for magician blacksmiths. Of course, himself was one, but his weapons required enchantments: and those available nearby or inside the town of Battleon used ordinary enchantments. Yulgar swore once to his fellow buyer that his weapon was crafted in the very north of Lore, on the unknown underground system of Uthor.
"Frankly chap, if I wanted an weapon from the neighborhood I'd buy on their enchantment shop for half this absurd price!"
Yulgar breathed deeply and patiently explained, just like he always did.
"Alkuthor, my friend. If you find the prices absurd, then I guess you can have it for free."
His eyes glanced at the old blacksmith's face on disbelief.
"What type of joke is this, Yulgar?" he wasn't able to accept it. "This thing costs 100,000 gold! You will have a huge loss!"
Yulgar laughed smoothly.
"Don't you worry, I have enough gold for maintain myself my whole life."
What he didn't know is that Alkuthor was a thief: a professional assassin, a perfect robber. Those who were robbed had no idea of how quick it happened, neither how it happened; not a witness is alive to tell the tale, not a single soul to unmask the scoundrel. Alkuthor was greedy as a Fiend, nothing would stop him of accumulate riches. He was so successful that he managed to steal over two million gold from King Alteon's royal bank. And the most impressive, he didn't use his daggers not once.
His eyes were wide open. Alkuthor smirked diabolically and ripped from the blacksmith's fists the weapon.
"I have to go, thank you very for the weapon, old Yulgar."
Everything was too easy, all his robberies were simple. Invade the place, get to the targeted spot, steal as much he could and get out of there without traces of what the heck happened. He wanted to rob the Old Yul in big style, taking the gold and finishing its owner. He was planning leave him on misery and then, kill Yulgar.
Probably continuing tomorrow. I know the story is short for now, but I had a severe interruption while writing and I lost my creativity.
< Message edited by Mapavon -- 12/20/2012 21:18:57 >
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