Fifty gold bars on top of the one-hundred I had received from Warsister Xerces for killing Forester some months ago, and this required less effort than that did. It was genuinely enough money to buy a fairly nice house on its own. I almost didn’t want to take it, knowing that I’d have to carry it around with me and risk losing it. Even more than that; he was clearly leaving some room for me to haggle him upwards.

“You’re saying that’s more than I could get from the auction house?”

He shrugged, “They won’t let private sellers come and go that easily. It’s a damn shame, since some of them, such as yourself, have an incredible selection of items that would otherwise go unpurchased. Agents like Philip will hunt around town for people put out by their rules, and buy them for cheap. Then you can use your connections to put it into a lot for auction and sell it for a huge profit to the people who missed out.”

“And the person missing out in this case would be you.”

“Exactly right. I’m the man who’ll be left holding this dagger at the end of that chain. I want it for my collection; which is why I’m offering you a large share of what the proceeds would be.”

I didn’t trust the exact maths behind his offer, but the logic tracked. Cutting out the middlemen was a good way to lower prices, and it meant that people on both ends of the transaction got what they wanted. The seller gets a bigger cut, and the buyer gets a discount on what they’d have to pay otherwise. The problem was that I didn’t know what kind of money would be thrown around at auction. If I did – I could twist his arm and ask for even more.

That would be a concern if I weren’t planning on robbing him blind anyway. The real reason why I didn’t want to give in just yet was because I hadn’t gotten all of the information I was looking for. The cursed item wasn’t something he was going to speak about with a total stranger, and leaving it out in the open was liable to elicit a lot of unwanted questions. It had to be something unique and valuable enough for Derian to want despite its ominous nature. He was likely hiding it somewhere not accessible to the public, like his personal section of the manor.

But he had welcomed us into an area of his collection instead. I wasn’t going to be able to transfer this into a conversation about the floorplan of his home without making it obvious that I was trying to do so. Nobles could be extremely stupid and lacking in common sense – but they were naturally selfish and wouldn’t let a dirty mongrel like me ruin their nicely polished floors.

Going into any building blind was a challenge. A lot of rogues simply refused to take a job if they couldn’t get the information they needed about guard shifts or floorplans. For a single house there wasn’t much to know. A larger, more complex job like robbing a mansion or in this case assassinating someone demanded more planning.

My hesitation had clearly spooked Derian a little. I could read him like an open book. He really wanted the dagger, he’d be willing to pay extra on top of his initial offer. It didn’t really matter what I offered him in the end. I lowballed myself to seal the deal then and there, “Alright. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. Sixty.”

Derian was expecting me to ask for more. He reached out and eagerly shook my outstretched hand to confirm the exchange. “You have a shrewd eye, Ren. Thank you very much! This is going to be the centrepiece of a new selection, you see.”

“Ah, well. Better with you than being wasted in my bag.”

Derian was much friendlier than I was anticipating. He reminded me of Ryan. With a price agreed, he reached under the table and retrieved a small wooden chest. He opened it, revealing a well-organised selection of metallic bars in different denominations. Derian proceeded to painstakingly count every gold bar and place them onto the table in front of me. All in all, it took nearly five minutes for him to do so. I occupied myself by looking at his collection from my sitting position.

While stealing a bunch of them would potentially make a lot of money, most fences would refuse to deal with items that were too distinct. The good ones would, anyway. Selling an antique that people know was stolen from a particular house attracted a lot of unwanted attention. Fences didn’t like attention – it meant that their premises could be raided by the guards at any time. The name of the game was to steal multiple, indistinct yet valuable items. That was why I had toiled away stealing rings from rigour-mortis afflicted fingers. They were mass produced and sold as an easy way to carry an affix on your person.

In truth, the affix itself wasn’t worth anything. People had an extremely warped perception of how those weaker protective or offensive affixes actually helped, and they were willing to pay good enough for them. Once you took a step down into the second-hand market all of that supposed value would disappear like piss in the wind. All the fences I knew would melt the rings down for scrap metal, which could eventually be pressed into a usable bar if they had enough.

“There, that should be everything!”

I reached for my belt and retrieved one of my pouches. It was going to be a tight fit. Derian had already taken the dagger and was having a whale of a time just holding it in his hands. He would have to get his fill while he had the chance, because he wouldn’t have long to enjoy it. When all of the money was safely tucked away, I turned to him and proposed another top of discussion, “I was just admiring your collection. Perhaps I should consider coming here for the tour.”

“Ah. I’d be happy to host you,” he insisted.

“I take it that this is not a publicly accessible area?”

“No, it is not. I primarily keep my curated collection in the building across the garden to the right when you enter. I try to keep the number of weapons and armour in the manor to a minimum despite my immense love for the art. Even I can grow tired of seeing them every waking moment of the day. I want to make them feel special so I can enjoy them for longer.”

“And you think your collection is the best out of the lot?”

“Everyone thinks that,” he laughed, “But in this case, I believe it to be true. Most of the others in this town can’t resist the allure of selling their most impressive articles to outside buyers. Not to mention their lack of craft when it comes to laying out their presentations. One of my peers even went so far as to hire a verbal guide for the visitors, partly out of paranoia to keep them from stealing anything.”

“And you don’t have one?”

Derian shook his head, “I much prefer to allow my guests to enjoy the collection at their own pace. I needn’t bore them with a full recollection of the history behind every single display. It would take far too long! I do have plaques to provide some of the story – they can be read at the visitor’s leisure.”

I stood next to Cali and Tahar, “Well, I’ll drop by soon and see it for myself.”

“Please do.”

As we walked towards the exit, my eye was drawn to a peculiar looking set of armour draped over one of the dummies. It was a strange fusion of modern and classical sensibilities, with a chest piece that evoked the image of a bulletproof vest and a helmet that looked like something out of World War 2. The harsh angles and patchwork construction were accompanied by a cheap inlaying of bronze, a typical floral pattern that one would commission from any good artist. The rest of the suit was built for flexibility, with leather pads on the arms and legs. A wispy piece of worn leather looped under the dummy’s head and held the helmet in place.

Derian noted my gaze and explained; “A curious piece. Unfortunately the alloy it is constructed from is not as forward thinking as the innovative design. Contemporary material choices like the Stormsteel you are wearing were not popularised at the time, so it would provide little protection if worn. The inside of the helmet is also padded to provide protection from blunt impact years before that became commonplace, the creator was no fool.”

“It’s just that I feel like I’ve seen something similar before,” I commented. With that said and done, we headed back out onto the main path through the compound. Derian was holding the dagger close – wanting to personally take it into the appropriate building. Now that I knew only one building was dedicated to the museum, everything clicked into place. The museum building was on the far right as you entered from the front. The building on the left by the pond was his personal reserve. That meant the other exterior building behind the main structure was likely to be the staff quarters.

It was hard to discern from the outside, as Derian had made sure that every building in the compound matched in terms of style and construction. Some nobles were egotistical enough to make the staff building look terrible, as if to not be shown up by their excess. If I had the money, I’d make sure that everything on my property looked nice, but I wasn’t that rich so I had no perspective on their thinking. Being petty was the only hobby that they had.

Derian was really eager to show me the rest; “There’s a lot of interest for my next showing. Tomorrow, if you can find time to drop by at ten, I can get a spot for you.”

“It’d be my pleasure. We don’t have anything planned for a few days, didn’t expect to sell that quickly.”

He let out another boisterous laugh, “Apologies! I simply can’t stop myself when such a wonderful piece passes through our borders. I’d be beside myself in grief if one of the others were to purchase it before me. If you ever find anything of this sort again – you’re welcome to come see me and I can make an offer on it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We were already at the gates. I hadn’t found any direct information on where the cursed item was, but I was making progress. By the end of the next day I would know the contents of his two museum collections, which would whittle down the final possible hiding place to his home. I was already leaning towards that conclusion, but it never hurt to be sure before making a move.

“Thank you for your custom, Sir Rivers.”

We departed from the manor and headed back onto the main road, where Cali immediately gave a look so withering that it could have killed the nearby plant life. While it was encouraging to see progress towards her expressing her feelings; I would have preferred that those emotions diverge from boredom, scorn and disappointment.

“Yeah, I know – it’s not exciting.”

“To think that anyone is capable of making weapons boring,” Cali sneered.

“I was just playing along, but yeah – not the kind of guy you’d invite to dinner.”

My old, frivolous self wouldn’t care, but years of deprivation had changed my perspective on a lot of things. If this were his only interest then I wouldn’t have such a poor impression of him, but Adel had attested that he was a hardcore monarchist. They always had a few screws loose.

“I’m going to attend his little tour tomorrow and get a closer look. After that, we can decide on a course of action.”

Tahar was more positive about the experience, “I never knew there were so many types of weapons and armour.” She looked down at her exposed abdomen and frowned, “Perhaps I should buy some for myself…”

Considering the numerous scars that littered her tanned skin, I wondered why she had never reached that conclusion before.