The boy — Volkan — took a look at the still-sizzling fragments of the demolished door and, gazing timidly upwards to face Orphen, he continued their conversation.
“Err, so umm, Sir Orphen, with that said it would be very pleasing if we could proceed to getting around to business...”
“I’m gonna go have breakfast first. You go wait outside.”
“Very well, sir,” Volkan replied almost inaudibly. His round eyes still open wide, he dashed down the corridor toward the stairs. He stumbled all the way down them, yelling curses at Orphen all the while.
Paying no mind to this, Orphen merely stretched his arms to help himself fully wake up.
“Business as usual, huh... But before that—” Orphen raised his right hand in the direction of the shattered door once more, and chanted something else. “I repair thee, Scars of the Sunset.” The words left his mouth and their inflection seemed to wrap itself around the wooden shards. At first glance they appeared to be floating in the air, but on closer inspection it looked more like time was flowing in reverse as the splinters and fragments began to reassemble themselves into their original form. Orphen strode over to the now-repaired door. He rapped against it with his knuckles.
“Good enough.” There was still a small burn mark in the middle of the door, but Orphen decided to ignore it, shrugging his shoulders as he closed the door behind him.
The cheap, run-down inn that Orphen was staying in was known as Bagup’s Inn. Orphen had never seen any customers besides himself even so much as step into the place. Not that this was particularly strange however, considering Bagup’s Inn was located down a back-alley right in the middle of this Commercial City with shops, stores, and inns filling every one of its streets. While the building itself was certainly quite old, it was always spotlessly clean and well-maintained. It wasn’t the cheap old shack that Volkan had made it out to be by any means.
Orphen came down the stairs into the bar area to find Bagup — the owner of the inn — cleaning the glasses and mugs behind the counter, while Bagup’s son, Majic, was mopping the floors. While supposedly directly related by blood, Bagup and Majic couldn’t possibly have looked any less alike. Bagup was a large man with a bushy mustache who might easily be mistaken for a pirate if he were spotted anywhere near a boat. Majic, on the other hand, was a rosy-cheeked, blonde-haired prince of a boy whose eyes still retained a touch of childlike innocence.
“Good morning, Mister Orphen,” said Majic politely. Orphen, having been staying at Bagup’s Inn for a full 2 years straight by now, returned Majic’s greeting with some playful banter.
“If you call being threatened out of bed by a dwarf a ‘good morning,’ I’d hate to see what you consider a bad one.”
“Would that happen to have anything to do with that loud explosion a moment ago?”
“Oh, that?” Orphen asked jokingly, “That was me telling Volkan to shut up by blowing his face up, and the door along with it. But don’t worry, I already fixed the door.”
While explaining himself to Majic, Orphen took a seat and asked Bagup to prepare him a quick and easy meal.
“Could’ve sworn I heard him yelling about some ‘business proposal’ or other,” Bagup said with a smile on his face. In stark contrast to his rough appearance, he spoke with the voice of a jolly old man. While Bagup went about lighting up his brand new miniature gas stove to cook up some oatmeal, Orphen leaned an elbow on the counter with his face resting in his hand and let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Business proposal? Not one of that brat’s scams has been legitimate business since the day I met him. Since he hasn’t told me a thing about this one, either, I’m not about to go getting my hopes up.”
Bagup looked over to Orphen with a grin on his face.
“What, you’re doubting him before even hearing out what he has to say?”
“I’ll tell you right now. Only an idiot would trust a single word that comes out of that good-for-nothing’s mouth.”
Bagup seemed to enjoy teasing Orphen on this subject. “Guess that makes you a pretty big idiot for always playing along anyway then, right?”
“You do know how much that brat owes me, right?” Orphen replied sarcastically. “I need to get back every last penny of that plus interest, and when you’re coasting along on the road to bankruptcy even stupid schemes start to sound appealing.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have tried your hand at being an illegal moneylender in the first place, then.”
“Maybe you’re right... Hell, I’ve never heard of a debt collector who has to help out his own debtors with work just so they can pay him back.”
“Funny, that, because I happen to know at least one person who fits the bill,” said Bagup with a smile as he handed Orphen his oatmeal. Orphen laid the bowl on the counter to let his food cool down, then turned to Majic as if trying to change the subject.
“Hey, Majic, I can teach you some sorcery later if you want. For a fee, of course.”
“Really?!” Majic’s face lit up as he turned to face Orphen, bumping the mop in his hands against the leg of a chair.
“Hey now, don’t you go getting my son wrapped up in another one of your scams,” Bagup warned sternly. In response to this, Orphen held up his pendant for all to see. Out of all of Orphen’s belongings, it was basically the only thing he owned with any real value to it. “You do remember who I am, right? The great Black Sorcerer Orphen of the Tower of Fangs. Just leave Majic in my capable hands and I could turn him into an amazing Sorcerer. It’s the chance of a lifetime.”