☯ + finding out the merchant guy was scheming the desert town
Send me ‘☯ + a scene from my characters canon’ and I will drabble it from my character’s POV.
[Note: Event viewer was very helpful here. Think of this as more of a novelization of the scene than anything else.]
He snivels before us, his round, plump form jolly in its belittling of the people of Ancheim. I see only an empty contempt hidden beyond his beady eyes, a hunger that I cannot put into words.
"Ah ha hah!" A hyena's laugh erupts from this foul man; my brows only furrow in response. "I fear zis joke is not funny." He waves his cane at us, the emptiness in his gaze quickly replaced by amusement. "I have business with zis gentleman." He directs it at the townsperson, who cowers before him. "We have no time for baseless accusations."
"Then what of accusations with concrete proof?" Edea steps forth, courage aflame in her light green eyes. Chairman Profiteur lifts a brow, the bright glimmer in his own not leaving. She presents the letter we found in the thieve's den, and a belligerent laugh leaves him.
"Oh? And just what is zat, eh?"
Ringabel steps forth, right aside Edea. "A little souvenir snatched from the lair of the thieves prowling the oasis of late." Lips firmly tucked in a smirk, he continues. "It bears your signature, chairman. As well as your orders to attack any citizens."
"What?!" The townsperson recoils, visibly shocked by the revelation. "Then when they..." Jaw slack, body trembling, eyes riding the ends of his lids. I cannot bear to see this. "And you were planning to rob me now a second time!"
"Ahh," the chairman sighs, tired irritation present in his tone, "zis day. No luck at all." He taps the floor with his cane, using it to leverage his little body. "I suppose zis is ze result of trusting zat useless urchin to perform a single task..."
"Then you don't deny it?" Edea barks, knuckles bulging at her side. "Release the city's wells to the public, then. Immediately!"
Another boisterous laugh erupts from the chairman. This despicable excuse for a human being is enjoying this. "I beg your pardon!?" He jabs the cane at us again, though we remain vigilant in our positions. "Just who are you to be issuing ze orders, girl? As I told you before," he points to himself, perspiration pricking his forehead and cheeks, "zis is a business! If you are too poor, zis is your problem. Stupid enough to be tricked? Your problem! Don't like it? Go earn some money, eh!?"
I feel the same contempt for this man that he feels for all of us. It's infectious, taken from him through the air. It boils down in my veins, and I've only one goal in mind when I direct my gaze upon him.
I will avenge the innocent. I will reduce him to ash, and all those associated with him.
The rage unfurls, and I raise my staff. Flames uncoil from the ruby sphere atop, and in a moment's notice a wall of fire is barreling towards him.
Good riddance. He is no man. He is a monster.
The innocent man beside us leaves, not wishing to partake in the battle to come. The chairman makes no sound; we hear only the crackling of flames as they consume the bookshelves and desk.
A taller frame propped against the rising smoke springs to its full height, and casts it aside.
"The pay for this job will be sufficient, I assume," the man we fought in the den says, briefly bearing a glance back at the chairman, "Erutus Profiteur."
"Ahh, but of course!" Erutus states with glee, a certain lust accompanying the amusement in his eyes. "If you kill zem all, I'll increase your profits!"
"Contract established," he speaks with no emotion, only motivated by greed. "I'll provide you your money's worth."
I steady myself once more, drawing in short breaths. I mustn't give in and lose my composure. I must remain vigil!
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