Quoted By:
There is… one thing you can offer. Not lightly, of course, but if this Boilermaker truly is in as dire straits as he claims to be, well…
What if, you begin as you cautiously reach into your pocket, you could offer him a fresh start? A new beginning? The Gnok snorts.
“I’d tell ya’ to come up with a <span class="mu-i">real</span> offer,” Obber answers with a sneer! “The Hells is that supposed to mean, anyways? ‘Fresh Start…’”
Exactly what it sounds like, you retort as your eyes bore holes into his, a new name. New home. All of that pesky baggage from before left to rot along the wayside.
You take a careful step towards the machinist. Fresh start.
He opens his toothy mouth to scoff at you again, but his words die halfway out of his throat when he notices you’re not laughing.
“... So easy, is it? Away from these damned mages? And the Spicys?”
“M-Mor?” Volka mutters as she sends you a sidelong glance, “What, uh… what are you talking about?”
You don’t answer, of course–you’re breaking the rules enough as-is. Instead you simply place a cold, round token onto the workbench next to Obber’s puzzled face. Picking the trinket up, you watch as the Gnok’s surly expression fades into the ether as his claws read the finely-etched words carved into the token’s surface.
“... This…” His mouth goes agape as awe creeps into his eyes. The word slips out of his mouth barely above a whisper. It’s almost reverent.
It’s simple, you continue, not bothering to glance at your no-doubt equally befuddled pals, follow those instructions to the letter. Shed your name, your past, and everything that goes with it. Disappear into the night… and emerge free on the other side.
Your eyes continue to burn through him like candles in the night. It’ll be brutal, you add, eyes trembling as you feel the phantom pains of the trek you once endured, grueling. Your feet will bleed–chitin’ll crack. You’ll wake up in the night with your blood running cold and a rasp in your voice…
But you’ll be <span class="mu-i">free.</span>
Your words hit their mark–you know because they hit you the exact same way long ago. So, you continue as your head cocks to the side, do we have a deal?
If your companions have any questions, they keep them to themselves for now. And Obber? He merely nods as you hear him pocket your token.
“I’ll be damned…” Putting your offer somewhere safe, the Boilermaker gives you an appraising look as the gears start to turn in his sideways head. “You’ll get your antique. Not now–noon at the earliest.”
What guarantee do you have that it’ll work, exactly?
“Heh! Ask your good pal Inngo,” The Gnokk retorts with a wily grin! “I don’t deal in crummy merchandise… especially when I’m paid right.” His smile droops. “... Reckon if it doesn’t work out you’ll know where ta’ find me. If ya’ live, that is.”
>CONTD.
