"Alright, let's see what kind of hidden treasure is in here…" I said to no one in particular as I lifted the pot. I had already looted the barrel to the left. Nothing but one of those stupid Medicinal Herbs… Maybe I could put all of those useless herbs in a joint one day. Hell yeah. 30 HP no more, baby. More like full, stoned recovery….
I raised the pot over my head and prepared to slam it down… only to have something thick and heavy slam down on me instead. I dropped the pot, and, despite my head throbbing a mile a minute, glanced at the gray shards. Shit. That hit really hurt. I whirled around and met my attacker face to face. An old lady.
"YOU RAPSCALLION! HOW DARE YOU!" Her cane slammed hard onto my skull once more. It's a good thing my noggin was thick from all the hits I'd received during Trodain guard training.
I managed to sputter a few words between each of the lady's brutal beatings. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I don't know what I've done to offend you…"
"You broke my pot, you scoundrel!"
"Wh-what?" I glanced over. "Won't it respawn?"
"I don't know what kind of sick world you live in, boy, but I DEMAND that you pay for the damage you've caused to my flooring and pot."
"Damage? What do you mean damage? It'll respawn, just like I said!" I ran out of the house. All of those pots and barrels I had broken on this journey had eventually been repaired. There was nothing special about the pot I had broken in the old lady's house. I yelled into the house, "Don't worry! It'll fix itself in a jiff." To calm the old woman, I even hung out a few minutes before going back in. All I saw was a pissed off old lady and gray clay shards on the floor. What?
"H-how could that possibly happ-"
"PAY UP, YOUNGUN."
"W-wait, Ma'am. Humor me! I bet the pot didn't respawn because you were in here." I pretended not to listen to her protests as I grabbed the old lady by the wrist and dragged her out. When we were under the night sky, she raised her old lady limb and tried to hit me where it hurt. Thankfully, I dodged out of the way before she managed to make sure that I'd never have children. "Okay, okay! Let's see now!" I ran back in. Shards.
"WHAT THE FU-" I glanced at the floor. Scuff marks and several broken planks. No… NO. We didn't have much money left to pay for the damage after upgrading to new equipment. Hell, I didn't want to go back to wearing that dorky orange bandana and mustard-colored robe thing. LET ME KEEP MY BADASS STEEL BROADSWORD.
"Ma'am, please… maybe we can work something out… I can work for the cost of the pot…" After hearing no reply for over a minute, I glanced at the old woman. Or rather, where the old woman was standing a few minutes ago.
"Wh-Wh-"
"THERE! ARREST THAT SCOUNDREL!" the old lady screeched as a long-haired Templar pinned me to the floor.
"H-hey! I'm innocent! I swear!" I hollered. The Templars, the long-haired one and his mustachioed partner, didn't seem to believe me. These guys were supposed to embody the Goddess's teachings? I only had three words to say to that: My Dragovian ass.
"Release him," commanded a snarky voice. Mr. Mustache and Mr. Long Hair finally let me up. I dusted myself off, and turned around. Of all the people, it had to be Angelo's ###%bag half-brother, Marcello.
"Th-thanks," I stammered out. I glanced at the floor and the old lady. "Well, uh, I'd better be on my way. King Trode and the others are undoubtedly wondering where I am right right now…"
"MY POTS. YOU ARE GOING TO LET THIS RUFFIAN GET AWAY WITH BREAKING MY POTS?" screeched the old woman. Goddess, this woman had a voice more strident than Jessica's after Angelo managed to cop a feel one night. Shaking my head, I walked toward the door, determined to at least get a pint at the pub before going to face my green-faced master.
Marcello stopped me before I reached the door. "Oh, did you think you had gotten off scott-free?" he asked without sincerity. "I'm sorry, Hero, but you are going to have to do much more to clear yourself of several counts of breaking and entering, burglary, damaging public property, cavorting with a monster…"
Dammit, I was going to have to grovel. "H-hey, man… we're all in the same league here right? We're going to avenge Abbot Francisco, remember? You can look the other way, right?"
His mouth drew itself into one thin, hard line. A few moments passed before his eyes flashed open and his mouth curved into that Goddess-awful smirk. "Oh, no… I can't look the other way… I was looking forward to punishing you myself." His eyes were gleaming. Mr. Mustache and Mr. Long Hair each took one of my arms. I heard the distinctive sound of cloth sliding on skin.
"GUV!"
"Get ready," Marcello whispered as his footsteps drew closer.
"GUV!"
"OY, GUV!" Yangus bellowed. I woke up to the light of the flickering candle on the inn bedstand.
"WHERE IS HE? WHERE'S MARCELLO?" I inquired frantically. I didn't want that bastard within half a mile of me.
"Marcello? Why in the name of the Goddess would you ask for my odious half-brother? I'd rather I never see his arrogant face again," Angelo cut in. The eyes that nearly every woman swooned had enormous tea bags on them.
"What's going on in here?" Jessica groggily asked from across the room. "I was having a rather nice dream- WHAT ARE TEA BAGS DOING ON YOUR FACE?"
"Oh," Angelo remarked as he gazed at Jessica's outline. I could practically hear him thinking, Damn, either get some sexier night clothing or take off that damn potato sack you wear to bed. He continued out loud, "Something about the caffeine in them ensures that my eyes are in tip-top shape, darling. Care to witness the glory of their unveiling?"
"Guv, ignore 'em!" Yangus ordered as I watched Jessica and Angelo argue. "Wot the 'ell's got you screamin' bloody 'ell in the middle o' the night?"
"Oh nothing, Yangus. It was just a dream."