The stories so far, Edited and ready to roll. Options

[Troika]

OK, this thread will contain any and all stories that are posted on the geocities site and labelled as edited. These babies we don't have to worry about until it actually comes time to stick em in the game.

I will sort out this thread... in other words, please do NOT post up stories yourself... it could lead to multiple copies which could prove problematic later.

Also, please keep posts in this thread to a minimum. This is mainly just a place where people have quick and easy (although not necessarily organised) access to the stories already finished with.

[Troika]

Section: Stories

Written by Hemal Navonne (TSBasilisk)

The Chest of Debt
by Hemal Navonne

In Wayrest, there lived a powerful and rich merchant. The merchant held control over all the trade routes in his city and extorted exorbitant rates from the other traders for use of the areas he held sway over. Some stores run by other men almost belonged to him, with a thin line between debt and servitude.

He had everything but always craved more, for gold was his greatest and only love.

One day, a poor purveyor of artifacts and curios came to the merchant's house. He bowed before the powerful man and begged him for his aid. "Please, milord", he moaned, "I cannot pay this month's rent and debts. If you do not help me, I will surely lose everything."

The merchant sneered at him. "Fool. I help no one. You will never be able to pay me enough for this request you ask of me. Your appearance fills me with distaste, and I wish to have appetite for dinner." As he raised his hand to summon his guards, the poor man reached into his tattered cloak and drew forth a small chest.

"Great one, it is true I cannot pay you fully now, but every day I can bring what gold I can to you. I will place it in this chest while you sleep so as not to affront your eyes," he begged. "Please, just give me one week, and the debt will be fulfilled."

The merchant pondered. Throwing this mendicant from his hovel would bring no profit, save for the cost of firewood which his walls might provide. He offered gold, and if he did not carry through, his house could still readily furnish the merchant's fireplace. Still, he needed to see the gold as proof.

"Very well then. Place the chest before me. If the amount is sufficient, I will release you from this month's rent," the merchant proclaimed. "Now, place the chest before me."

The chest was filled with good, bright gold. This should have been more than enough for the rent, but the merchant saw no reason to object. He could always raise the rent, seeing how much the man seemed to have stored here. The purveyor was dismissed, and the merchant added the gold to his vault.

The next morning, the chest was filled again, and the merchant smiled at how well the curios trade must be flourishing. After this, he must see about getting a larger cut of the trade.

Every morning for a week, gold was added to the merchant's vault through the chest, but the merchant grew discontent. Why did the shop-keeper pay so much and yet claim to have not enough for rent. The store he owned was small and run-down. He could not possibly be providing this.

On the last day, the merchant had his guards bring the purveyor to him. After sending them away, the merchant glared at the trembling man before him. "Where does it come from?" he demanded. "Where do you find this gold for the chest? Tell me!"

The man trembled but did not speak.

"I know you cannot have this much money," the merchant growled, spinning the chest to reveal its contents. "You cannot fool me. You are a thief or worse. Tell me!"

The man shook but did not speak.

The merchant glowered. "So be it. I will report you as a burglar to the authorities. I will see to it that you pay fully for not telling me. They will hear a far different story of your recent escapades, and how you robbed me. Then I will use your little house to warm my guard room."

Turning upon the trembling, rag-tag man, he put the coins into secret vault. It wouldn't matter if he saw, as soon enough he would have the man blinded and muted.

When he turned, however, the man was different. The purveyor was gone, replaced by a tall, old man in a black robe. And beside him stood something the merchant could not quite see, for it seemed to vanish whenever looked at fully.

The merchant wondered fleetingly where the purveyor had gone, but suddenly a deep chill went through him as the misty being suddenly spoke. "The pact is fulfilled. I will now take payment."

The merchant realized with a sinking heart that HE was the subject of this declaration. "B-but what pact?"

"He who draws gold from the Coffer of King Orgnum for seven days shall owe payment to my master. You have done so, and thus I will now take payment."

The merchant felt the blood drain from his face. The man in the black robe spoke quietly. "As you did to my son, who lost his life to pay his debts, and my daughter, who sacrificed everything to save him from your greed, so shall happen to you." The sorceror turned and walked from the room, as the spirit moved towards the merchant.

"What!?! What!?! What do you want!?! I will give you all my gold, everything I took and more!"

"No. I will now take payment."

"Anything!"

"Yes. I will now take payment."

"What? And...for whom?"

Silence came form the room before a despairing scream and the answer. "Your soul...for Clavicus Vile."