"Can I help you?"

The bell on the door had stopped ringing, and the man behind the counter was eying him suspiciously, but Edgar remained still. The moment he had stepped into the building he felt a presence next to him, and he froze the moment he laid eyes on it.

"Ah, that.. well, it's a bit of an in-joke. Don't let it get to you."

Despite the man's dismissive tone, Edgar couldn't help his reaction. He'd always hated coffins, and where he came from, it was considered bad form to leave them standing. Moreover, this one was more fit for an ox than a man. Its size alone was cause for alarm, but it was also a discouraging sign.

"If you say so. It's just the last thing I'd expect to see in a merchant's guildhouse."

"Heh.. you're hardly the first to say that."

The man seemed more interested in wiping the glasses in front of him than talking to Edgar, but that didn't matter. Edgar was here for a reason, and the man hadn't failed to notice that.

"So what business brings you to our guild this fine day?"

Edgar wondered if the man had mistaken him for a wayward junior apprentice. He had to admit he probably looked the part, but he wasn't a local and putting on airs would be counterproductive. He might as well walk up to the bar and cut to the chase.

"Well, I can't rightly say it's business, but I was sent here on a bit of a quest for information."

The man's eyes visibly narrowed as Edgar set some coins down on the bar. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other as Edgar prayed that the beads of sweat on his back wouldn't appear on his face. In the end, the man accepted the coins and smiled as he pulled a rather impressive-looking book out from under the counter.

"Heh.. what's your name, boy? I don't reckon I've ever seen you around."

"Edgar. Edgar Joam."

The man scribbled in the tome before producing a small scrap of paper. Edgar knew it was just a custom, but he really didn't have the patience for this sort of thing. He only knew that such formalities were considered necessary to merchants, so he forced himself to wait. He intended to put all of the advice he'd been given to good use.

"Well then, Mr. Joam, welcome to the Rowen Guild branch of Kumerson! How may I help you?"

Being called "mister" made Edgar twitch in irritation. Thankfully he had come to visit at a time when he knew the guildhouse would be empty, so only he and the man were present to notice.. and the man would hardly care now that money was involved.

"Truth be told, it's a bit of a long shot. But I was sent here to find a merchant named Guy Batos."

"Batos..?"

For the first time in their conversation, the man seemed genuinely interested. Edgar was taken aback, knowing that merchants in the man's position didn't react so openly when doing business. Was he not taking Edgar seriously?

"Well lad, you've come to the right place, but I'm afraid your timing's a bit off."

"..Oh? Then Mr. Batos still visits this guildhouse?"

"Wellll.. in a manner of speaking."

The man's index finger stopped tapping the counter and pointed up behind Edgar. For a moment, the hair on the back of Edgar's neck stood on end as he realized what the man what was pointing at. There was a reason it was a discouraging sign. Mr. Batos was a merchant belonging to the Rowen guild.. a man often described as "coffin-like."

"Why don't'cha take a peek inside?"

Edgar took a breath and pushed his chair back a pace. He got up, approached the giant coffin, then swallowed as he looked it over. From its size, it was clearly a prop. He didn't have to search for the hinge on its side to know that. He obviously wasn't the first person to sneak a peek inside, but even being next to a prop coffin unnerved him.

"Here goes.."

Muttering to himself, he pushed his boyish nervousness down to his feet and swung open the great lid of the coffin. As expected, it was devoid of any ghoulish corpses. In fact there wasn't even a trace of dust. The only thing inside was a memorial plaque that gleamed in the low light of the guildhouse. Edgar's heart continued to sink as he made out the words on that plaque.

"To the esteemed Rowen guild.. in memory of our renowned Mr. Batos.. from the Friedhof family.. whose business rests assured in legend.. as the only coffin-makers to lay a coffin to rest in another coffin."

Damn. If Batos was gone, they would have to do this the hard way.