Fable - Ask A Walking Stick And A Talking Stone

[Quinton]

The markets were alive with activity that day, nothing unusual given the inhabitants and the traders and travelers passing through. The locals wanted their meats and cheeses, fruits and vegetables, visitors wanted to buy and sell wares and restock on supplies, hunters their hides and smiths their weapons. It wasn’t much different than any other town this fine sunny afternoon but it would prove to be a rather unique day too.

The town of Mintmeadow was north of Falwood forest, east of the city of Vel Anir, and there wasn’t much remarkable about it. It had cobblestone streets, cottages, an apothecary, carpenter's, workshops and the works. If you wanted a market stall or a table at a tavern then all were welcome to spend their coin from the elf to the dwarf, the human to the orc and, of course, the halfling.

“By the nook and the cranny!”

Quinton began singing as he marched through the markets. He had a bit of a generic outfit fit for this town and outside environment: green cloak over brown clothes, backpack over his shoulders and walking stick in hand.

“Write a book for your granny!”

A stall on one side offered pastries of all kinds but, to his surprise, he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry. He had already had second breakfast. Though I suppose afternoon tea is indeed on the approach.

“Beside a brook with family!”

He almost bumped into someone. A tall person loomed over him. Quinton might have gulped as doom looked him in the eyes but he was used to guys like this.

“Oh! Begging your pardon, sir!” The halfling offered.

“Move it, maggot,” the orc retorted and walked onward.

Oh my days! No cure for rude characters I suppose. Quinton paused his walk to shake his head at the feller when something caught the corner of his eye. Oh my. It shined beside a crate in an alleyway but he couldn't make it out from this distance.

“Might just look uncanny!” He sang as he entered the alley, curious as a cat, and curiosity never killed the cat, did it?

Argós

 

[Argós]

If life had a soundtrack, Beethoven's "Rage over a lost penny" would be probably be playing at that moment. That's because there's no fitting piece for when something of high value is lost in the streets.

"Where?!"

The fast speed of the music, its' cartoonish feel, its' aspect is that of a tragicomedy. Perhaps Ludwig didn't intend that the piece be interpreted as such; either way, a piece of text, after so many years, can take unexpected turns and eventually have such interpretation.

"Where?!"

That was the question being hammered in Argós head. As the stone golem rushed through the uncrowded alleys of the city, his eye looked at every corner in search of the lost purple gem. His giant, heavy, noisy steps scared everyone that crossed paths. His backpack sack was swinging from side to side violently.

"Where?!"

He counted it multiple times - before things went wrong, there were seven gems: red, green, blue, pink, white, orange and purple. Now, there were six, and the purple one was missing. He didn't know exactly where he lost it; when he checked his backpack, he noticed he left it open from his last check. It's possible the gem had fallen anywhere in the alleys he had walked through so far.

"Where?!"

The seven gems were everything he had that could be sold. Losing one of them could potentially lead to him having less money at the end of the run than normal. That was the last thing needed at that moment. There was no necessity whatsoever to go through another season of food or water shortages. Especially due to something as stupid as losing a gem.

"Where?!"

As he made his turn at an L-shaped alley, he found himself at the intersection of three paths that formed a T. He looked to his right, and his left, and back at his right, and then he noticed it - there was the purple gem! He rushed towards it, with all speed he could, almost hitting the wood barrels close to the corners... when he noticed a halfling close to the precious stone. He stopped midway.

"Oh. no. Ohhhhhhhh noooooo..."

Argós thought that to himself. The golem froze at that moment. Would that stranger allow him to have his gem again, or would they keep it to themselves? Perhaps, perhaps not - he had to hope the halfling had a generous enough heart to give the gem back. His buying power was currently on the halfling's hand.

Argós approached the stranger at a slower pace, and calmly. Stopping from a distance - he feared the halfling would catch the gem and run away - he asked:

"Hello, chief. That gem you hold is actually mine. Mind to return it, please?"

 

[Quinton]

Spoiler: Music/Ambience

If writing had a soundtrack, and its music was diegetic, then it and the ambience might sound something like this. That click-clack of footsteps and clack-click of horse trots amid the odd roll of the wagon and clanking of pots and pans, clinking of glasses and dishes, as all those who walked or stood at stalls in the alley did so closely.

Those instruments of strings and drums? Could have been getting played by anybody in the scene, really. Naturally, the alleyway that the halfling had entered was just beside the market square of the town and catered to the trading of goods as others ventured down. It wasn’t wide like the main street but it provided wares some might consider lesser. Others? Better, rarer, with the promise of an exotic purchase after a fine haggle if not the right axe to take into battle.

However, it was all the halfling could do to pass these strangers by on either side after he entered the alley, paying them no mind. Their buying and selling did not interest him at the moment. Only one item did. He might not have the eyes of a hawk or the ears of a fox but Quinton lived life on the streets as a thief and he knew to spot a shiny rock even from this distance.

So he stepped beyond the stalls and arrived at the end of the alley. No wonder others hadn’t noticed what he did. They were focused on purchases and possessions. Yet, in that perfect moment, the object had shined beside a crate through the throngs, and that’s where he walked.

“Come to me, my pretty…”

Quinton licked his lips as he stepped at the edges of this smaller market and into an intersection. There it was, sparkling as ever, as if a violet star had fallen from the sky and cried for his eye to see it. And bring it into my pocket.

“Myyyyyyy preeeeeciiiiiiiiiioooooouuuuussssss”

At that, Quinton approached to snatch the stone into his grip just as he heard footsteps thunder from a distance. They were close enough that he froze, though, as his fingers closed into a fist. Then, for a moment, it was all the halfling could do to stop and gawk at the stone figure only feet away. He almost shivered.

“Oh…ohoho…eheheheh…”

He gave his best impression of someone who was totally clueless but wasn’t fooling anybody. Maybe this golem though. Oh my days, it’s straight out of the pages of a tome!

“Begging your p-pardon, M-Mister—GOLLUM—" He coughed. "—Golem—eheh—but what gem is this you mention, again?

Quinton blinked, gulping dread, holding said gem. His were simply the instincts of a thief.

Argós

 

[Argós]

Argós had the small impression that the stranger wasn't going to play fair. Why, it's the gem you're holding in this exact moment! What else would it be?! However, it was just a small impression, and the golem repeated, pointing at the precious stone this time:

"The gem you're holding right now, chief. That purple one."

The golem noticed the halfling was shivering. That guy was visibly afraid. Argós thought - the stranger was probably trying to grab that stone and keep it with himself, since finders keepers, but then he arrived, and since finders keepers unless the owner sees it, it almost became stolen. Now, the halfling was surprised the picture of a golem asking questions about what he was doing. Not even a human, not even an orc - a golem. Argós didn't spend much of his time empathizing with people and thinking about how they would find it curious to see a golem walking around like a normal denizen of that land, but, that time, the shock was visible. The stranger was - horribly - surprised.

The giant stone creature thought for some moments, and came up with a resolution:

"Look, ya can keep this stone with you as long as you'd like. You can call it yours. However, you'll have to pay for it. We can discuss prices, and I'll make sure to get a good deal for ya. If you don't want to pay it, then return it. Is that clear, chief?"

Argós was with his eye staring at the halfling and the rare stone. However, part of him was already expecting for the stranger to run away. He was physically ready to pick up his axe or his pickaxe - whatever was the nearest when he opened the backpack sack. Mentally on the other hand... The golem really hoped it didn't have to end in a chase. It didn't do well to his spirit to chase a young halfling with a giant axe...