"And why would I do that?" Though Gold could easily cut a quick glance to the eyes peering through the curtain, he holds back for now, lest he give too premature a signal.
"First because I might knock a few things over on my way out," the man hinted. "You with them." He didn't hesitate to remind him that he was armed.
More the former part of the threat hit a nerve than the latter. While there were a few pointless odds and ends that had found there way in here, virtually everything is an object with some potential, usable power. The idiot has no idea.
His response is tighter than any that's come before it. At least some of it isn't for show. "If you lay a hand on any of my inventory without expressed permission to touch it, there will be consequences."
"Now, nothing must be touched," the thug placated. "Help me make this easy for you."
Gold's answer slipped out fast, like a reflex, or something forced. Like tearing off a band aid. "You will tell your employer that the price remains the same. The artifact won't work otherwise."
"That a fact, or are you just making it up to stall?" The man stepped up closer to him, using his ful height and weight to tower even more.
Even with all the magic he still maintained, there would always be part of him that shrank from similar acts of intimidation, that felt small, weak, left him inwardly disgusted with himself. "The question is whether your employer will be happy with you coming back with an ordinary painting rather than one that does what was promised."
"Are you threatening me?" The man, probably accustomed to getting a much larger reaction out of such small prey, swept a heavy arm across the surface of the nearby worktable, sending all its contents crashing to the floor. The sound alone would have been enough to startle. "That's not such a good idea, you know."
That was when Gold's eyes very briefly cut to the side, toward the door. "We're well past that, I think."
no subject
"First because I might knock a few things over on my way out," the man hinted. "You with them." He didn't hesitate to remind him that he was armed.
More the former part of the threat hit a nerve than the latter. While there were a few pointless odds and ends that had found there way in here, virtually everything is an object with some potential, usable power. The idiot has no idea.
His response is tighter than any that's come before it. At least some of it isn't for show. "If you lay a hand on any of my inventory without expressed permission to touch it, there will be consequences."
"Now, nothing must be touched," the thug placated. "Help me make this easy for you."
Gold's answer slipped out fast, like a reflex, or something forced. Like tearing off a band aid. "You will tell your employer that the price remains the same. The artifact won't work otherwise."
"That a fact, or are you just making it up to stall?" The man stepped up closer to him, using his ful height and weight to tower even more.
Even with all the magic he still maintained, there would always be part of him that shrank from similar acts of intimidation, that felt small, weak, left him inwardly disgusted with himself. "The question is whether your employer will be happy with you coming back with an ordinary painting rather than one that does what was promised."
"Are you threatening me?" The man, probably accustomed to getting a much larger reaction out of such small prey, swept a heavy arm across the surface of the nearby worktable, sending all its contents crashing to the floor. The sound alone would have been enough to startle. "That's not such a good idea, you know."
That was when Gold's eyes very briefly cut to the side, toward the door. "We're well past that, I think."