The Erstwhile Druid (Tralheim)

Chance Meeting (3)

Luke stalked through the streets, head down, ruminating on the events of the day. The mysterious girl who'd taken him for a ride on the slime train. Hell, she'd watched, giggling, as the giant mass of goo collided with his body. Then she'd pointed and giggled, holding her sides with each step back towards town. She was frustrating and nothing good had come out of teaming with her...

Except this bag of coins. He stared at the sack, shaking it as it dangled meekly from his hands. What to get, what to get...

First, he'd have to get some new gear. Decide on what type of weapons he would use, what class he would choose. Becoming an assassin was the logical choice. Skulking in the shadows, a lone wolf in the night... Teaming with another adventurer would only get him in trouble.

Just like today.

He turned left, rounding the corner. A racket of noise buzzed into his ears, growing louder as he continued on. If he remembered correctly, the marketplace should be right around the...

Bingo.

A mixture of storefronts spread out before him, extending as far as the eye could see. Stalls filled to the brim with merchandise: produce, weapons, attire... The marketplace was decked with everything an adventurer needed. Behind the stalls stood an array of buildings, each created with red brick. Clothes hung out to dry from some windows, while others sported wind chimes. The chimes swayed with the wind, slave to its whimsical movements.

To Luke's left, a store owner hawked his goods, the aroma from freshly-baked chicken wafting in the air.

"Smoked chicken, you know you want some boy!" The owner beckoned towards Luke, his perfectly trimmed pencil moustache angling upwards with his smile.

"How much?" A drop of saliva ran down Luke's mouth. It'd been awhile since he could afford to eat a real meal. He'd survived on a diet of porridge, and the occasional piece of stale bread.

"Two platinum for a skewer, and three platinum for two. You ain't gonna find a better deal anywhere else, son!"

 "Two platinum for two." Luke raised two fingers. "No more, no less."

The shopkeeper frowned, steam from the skewer in his right hand rising. "You drive a hard bargain..."

"Deal?"

"Fine, take your skewers, you little thief." The man harrumphed, belly jiggling as he yanked another skewer from the display. "Enjoy, and I hope you choke."

Reaching into his sack, Luke withdrew two coins. With his left he snatched both skewers. In one smooth motion, he tossed both coins into the air with his right. "Catch!"

The storekeeper's eyes bulged as he tried to keep track of two falling objects. He flailed, managing to swipe one coin.

The second coin pinged off the red brick road, rolling down the street.

"You'd better go get that. Wouldn't do to lose a spare coin, now would it?" Luke blended into the crowd once more, whistling to himself. He could hear the moustached man curse, feet pounding down the street.

Luke smiled. Serves him right.

"That wasn't nice."

Luke spun, heels clicking. 

The girl. Noelle. She stood, a skewer in hand. "I've always wanted to eat one of these."

"What do you want?"

"Oh, I just wanted to say thanks for the meal." She winked and scarfed down a hunk of chicken. "Delicious."

"Wait, what?" Luke looked at his hand. Only one skewer. "Oh, come on. How the hell did you manage to nab that?"