Yutzen

(another one from the archive, this one inspired by a prompt from Make Up An Adventurer on Cohost.)

 Profit minded adventurer whose magical general store has a counter in every single major labyrinth and dungeon complex.

"How are you here...?"

Within a shallow cave, surrounded by the remains of wolf-sized rats, two strange fellows stood. One looked unremarkable, if not outright pitiable: A tall figure in scavenged, battered armor that had served far too much already, bearing an emblem proper of city guards, and with an iron sword in their hand, notched and bent. Even the headwear, a basic kettle hat with a scarf over the face, looked ragged or battered - the former already dented from a blow that had to end its previous wearer. From this one, only their green eyes, like shining emeralds in the dark, stood out as anything to make note of beyond disdain. Even their posture, hunched and exhausted, leaning against the cavern wall, was unfit for the place. It was they that asked this question, in a wheezing, though deep voice.

"It was a simple question of knowing where I'm needed!" The other answered in a high-pitched male voice that seemed perpetually on the verge of laughter. He(?) was more cloth than person, a heavyset being bundled in far too many layers of colorful cloth in tones of blue and purple alike. This stranger stood with open arms right behind a desk of fine mahogany, covered with silk cloth and topped with an arrangement of merchandise: From healing poultices to actual arms and armor, each with a helpful pricetag and all introduced with a motion from his(?) gloved hands, as if this was a shop and not a rotting pit in the dark. "Now come, take a gander, I have anything you could need!", his(?) voice rang out again, behind a mask that was little more than a polished, curved mirror of sapphire color, that betrayed only the "customer"'s own bafflement.

"I don't... I hardly..." The ragged one began, stumbling over their words before they could settle on something. "I hardly have anything to my name, I can hardly afford... any of this. Otherwise I would be elsewhere, and not here, dealing with these pests... When did you get here, and how have they not tried to eat you!?"

"Oh, I can handle myself, believe me, but it hardly matters how I'm here, doesn't it? Only that I am!". Once again, a sweeping motion of their arms towards the wares in question, this time focused on the least expenside side of the table's wares. "Now, may I interest you in a potion, you look rather under the weather, gahah! I can guarantee their results, or your money back!"

A sigh, as the raggedy fellow realized they'd have to dip into what meager funds remained to last, and it was neither the right time nor the right mood to argue. As they leaned in to hand coins over into the stranger's gloved hands, they could swear they saw something like an ivory door, embedded utterly out of place into natural stone, right behind them.

"Wait, you!? How are you here!?"

In a thick forest passage, under a canopy that barely let any light through, two strange fellows met again, with the same question being asked by the same green-eyed figure. Their armor and blade were newer, polished and improved since the visit to that stinkhole with the rats - the town's blacksmith had given them that much before they had to depart towards the East - but the person within was the same. And the mirrorsome merchant had changed even less, still clothed the same way and standing behind a desk covered in merchandise; it seemed just a little bigger than last time.

"I indeed, just in the time and the place where I may be required! Come, take a gander!", he said with the same sweeping motion. All untouched by dust, or mud, or falling leaves, despite being in the middle of these woods.

"The rats, I may understand, but this forest... how have you not been robbed in here!? Who are you even- are you following me...?". The wanderer was only more baffled than before, the grip on their sword tightening in reflex as more questions poured out. "Why are you following me, of all!? I still can't afford much, there have to be better customers, easier to find customers!"

"Call it a certain intuition, a remnant from days past! I've said it before and I'll say it again, I know where I'm needed, and the how of it, why, it hardly matters, doesn't it?" The merchant's hands went down to a shining rapier, laid out on the table. A fine piece, razor-sharp and looking quite sturdy as well, though with a stinging pricetag to accompany it. "Now then! May I interest you in a little upgrade, for the road ahead? You said it yourself, bandits roam these lands - and I hear they've been quite emboldened lately, on the road up ahead. Emboldened and plated, in fact, but this little beauty can take care of such!"

The wanderer gulped, their own eyes fixed on the pricetag. "...no can do. If I bought that, I'd be out of luck, I'd need to dip into ration money... is there a discount, another way-"

"Ah-ah-ah!", the merchant interrupted, "prices are non-negotiable I'm afraid! Still, I'm sure you can get yourself enough to cover it in no time! There is quite a bit of money to make in a place like this, between bounties and pelts!"
A pause, and an exhalation from the exhasperated customer. "I don't have time for that, I have to-"
Yet once again, the merchant cut them off, wagging one gloved finger. "Nonsense, there is always time, my friend! Now then, anything else until then? If not, you know where to find me: Where you need me the most!"

The wanderer sighed, shaking their head. They weren't about to try and mug this one just about now, frustrating as they were, but if those bandits up ahead had indeed upgraded what they had... they may need to linger a little more. Maybe if they hurried. They turned away, leaving the merchant to his otherwise nonexistent business, with that same ivory door - now embedded in an old tree - right behind him once more.

"Who's that? How is he here!?"

In a snow-covered mountain pass, right between two cliffs, two familiar figures met, with a third one right behind. The peddler had not changed one iota, and his wares had only grown further still, but the wanderer was just a little different. Taller, bulkier, and their armor shinier still and bearing a coat of arms. Yet still those emerald eyes glowered at the merchant from within his new helmet, as a gauntlet tightened around the handle of the same rapier he had sold them a week ago.

"Don't even ask, Eric, it's not worth it", they said, to the broad-shouldered man in leather armor standing behind him, his face apprehensive in the shadows of his hood. "He just... shows up, right before trouble. Right as things go to hell."

"Right when you require me, you mean! Come, you two, take a gander as usual! I have something for the both of you, I just know it!" The mirrorsome merchant's table held not just swords, but axes too, some sharper and bigger than the two Eric already held in his hands. "The pass is quite challenging this time of the year, and more so with creatures of the night roaming it. Even the sunlight is no refuge, I've seen! But I have all you need, for battle and survival alike!"

Green eyes glared at the sapphire mask, but as usual, this was no time to argue. To their companion's utter confusion, the wanderer reached into their bag of coin. "You can't be serious, you're about to trust some... peddler in the middle of the- who is this man!? Since when is this a place to set up shop, we've been the only ones here other than the cultists for well over a bloody month!"

"Again, I say: Intuition! Call it a little something I learned, back when I did what you did. Ah, thrilling days, but not my days, truly." There were no eyes to see, but still the merchant's gaze looked distant, peering into the distance - where traces of smoke of what had once been a seaside town rose into the air - before snapping back to attention, and to his customers...

One of which had seen exactly where he'd been looking, and was already raising both his axes in the air. "We don't have time for this, not after Port Aria, and not when it's but the first. Now listen here, stranger, if you're thinking you can stand in this place where nothing but shadow beasts roam now and mock us with all this, with... 'wares' we can barely even afford, then you've got another thing coming."

To that, the mirrorsome merchant only had one answer. From his robes, a platinum rod of radiant, almost blinding power was produced and held nonchalantly against the table, light coalescing into an eye-scorching dot within the hoop that was its tip. The ivory door behind him had an answer of its own, too: It was shoved open several inches, phasing through the snow as if it wasn't there, as a claw of golden metal pushed upon it. The rest of the arm went into the darkness within, showing nothing, but implying plenty.

The merchant's voice chimed in, slightly less amused. "Again, I say: Prices are non-negotiable. Now, is there anything else you'd like?"

To that, the wanderer's only response was to pull handfuls of coin, as their companion lowered his axes, stepping back. They needed what he had.

"...alright, now how is he here?"

Deep within an ancient stone tunnel older than their birthplaces, in absolute darkness save for torches and sapphire light, three familiar figures stood. Two had changed: Eric had changed leather for chainmail, and his axes had grown ever-larger from the cultists' spoils, while the wanderer still bore their blade and chestplate from their last stop with the same merchant that visited them; his helmet was different, a gift from the kingdom, an antlered affair that almost scraped the ceiling...

And yet, the mirrorsome merchant remained the same, peddling from a greater inventory the size of a dining room table. Ever-greater arms, armor ready to be fit, treatment of wounds and ailments, all the usual and more. "Well, if it isn't my favorite customers! Come over, and take a gander as you will! I know you're going to enjoy what I have for you this time!"

"I'm sure somehow he knew these tunnels always existed, despite us not knowing a thing. Or the kingdom as a whole, until two days ago." The green-eyed warrior shook their head, already sifting through their bag of coin - grown as it was from looting their assailants, yet seemingly never enough for this. "What is it this time, then."

"Ah, I see you already expect trouble! And I'm afraid to that, I can only say yes, there will be. With the palace guard turned and guarding the exit to this place, their arrows will be quite the problem for you; I've seen them pierce through treated steel like nothing." As always, the merchant spoke with an amused tone, irreverent and jolly to the point of smugness, or so it felt to the two. "As usual, however, I have you covered! These rings of protection - one per person, only - will keep those enchantments at bay, and with these shields I've procured for you, the rest will be a cinch!" He motioned as he always did, towards rings that had a thin layer of glimmering blue energy over their shape, and towards heavy kite shields - one of steel, and one of a strange, reflective metal, bearing a pricetag that made the wanderer wince. Both at the sheer indecency of the price, and at the fact there wasn't enough in their pockets to cover them both - they, and Port Aria, already knew what'd happen if they tarried.

Eric, however, did not wince. He smoldered, staring at the merchant right where his eyes should be. "Is this another joke of yours, peddler? To ransack our pockets and leave us nothing, and still with not enough to get all we need? To force us to play your little game, is that was this is? See who gets what, 'cause if we fuck about for long enough to pay for the both of us we'll all be dead? When we might be the one thing that might stop our kingdom from getting swallowed by the dark? Or keeping this world from getting a HOLE TORN IN IT TO SOME PLACE OF NIGHTMARES!?" Two axes were pointed at the mirror, with the warrior seeing his own furious scowl in the reflection. "Where have you been other than squeezin' our bloody pockets, huh!?"

The mirror mask remained as impassive as ever, its bearer not making a twitch under their many layers of silk. Nothing betrayed any expression out of the ordinary, but a slight seriousness in their voice, the same seriousness as last time when a customer dared raise an axe against him. "I have been where you needed me, and I've had what you needed, my dear customers. This is simply my part, since I don't do what you do, and I am not running a charity. But if you don't need anything, you're free to leave."

The twin-axed warrior trembled in place, tempted to raise his axes once more... Yet he did not. An incoherent roar of anger tore its way out of his throat, before he stomped off into the dark. "Come, we're leaving, we don't need anything this bastard has, just watchin' everyone die if they don't have the coin... I ain't dealing with anything this gods-damned peddler has laid so much as a finger on!"

The wanderer quietly watched him go... Without a single word, they collected handfuls of coin to cover themselves, already too deep in to back out. All they had to offer to this merchant besides their money was an emerald glare.

"How are you here..."

As two familiar fellows met, these were the words one thought, but refused to utter. Yet again the wanderer looked different, carrying the mirror shield they'd bought in the tunnels, bearing heavier plate and wielding a shimmering longsword, scrounged from the palace guard after their clash. Yet the horned helmet remained the same, and a notched axe was strapped to their back...

The merchant, of course, looked the same as ever, with the same overly amused voice as ever, and making the same sweeping gestures towards his ever-growing table as he'd always done. "If it isn't my favorite customer again! Welcome, then! This may be our last meeting, and might I say, it's been a pleasure to have you here... come, take one last gander at what I have for you!"

Their last meeting indeed. Here, in the depths of a palace that was stuck halfway through into another realm, leaking so actively they could both hear the stonework groaning under the strain of the realms' pull. An utterly lightless place save for the blue of the merchant's mask, and the green of the wanderer's eyes, both of which bore no emotion tonight. The very heart of the cult that would doom the world in their madness, and here he was, simply peddling everything he had, a shop set up in the heart of the insanity. With only a singular spread of ashes against the wall - a single patrol that strayed too close - as a sign he'd done anything else but sell what the wanderer needed to save everyone's lives.

As usual, the wanderer thought.

Yet the only sound the wanderer made was the clattering of golden coins being grabbed and piled on the table, with not a single word coming from underneath the horned helmet. "One last warning before you go," the merchant began, "the Archbishop's key can open many more realms than just the one we've both seen by now. He will likely try to bury you in monsters you've never seen - and he may even escape somewhere else, if you aren't careful! Oh, but I'm sure you'll be quite careful, you've made it this far! I dare say I'm rather proud of you, my dearest customer!" He leaned in a little closer, before making an addendum: "And besides, I do have a few tricks to offer you that'll put a damper on that! See this amulet, for example? And these gauntlets, too! "

Nothing. Not a single word, just the sounds of money. More coins piled on, pilfered from cultists and turncoats on the way. Ransacked from those who gave so much they did not need them anymore, and would've wanted the wanderer to have them, put them to better use.

The silence grew heavy, as the merchant cleared his throat. "Say... where is the belligerent fellow that was with you last time?"

Finally a different sound, as the rest of the coins were slammed onto the table, and the coin bag overturned and thrown away. Handfuls of supplies, healing and preventive, were stuffed into the wanderer's bag without comment, including the amulet that the merchant never got to explain. Scrolls and bottles were practically shoveled in, afforded by a purse that would never fill again. The gauntlets he'd been so proud to offer were snatched off the table, and tossed inside unceremoniously, the last thing to make it in before the strings were drawn shut. And once his favorite customer was done, he simply stomped off, leaving the place in silence save for the groaning of the palace, and the whispers in the dark. They didn't even stop to put them on, not in his sight.

"...good luck out there...!", he added, trying to have the last word in a one-sided conversation.

Surely they'd succeed - they had the best money could buy, after all! But just in case they did not, he withdrew his table, folding it again and again upon itself, his wares seemingly disappearing in the process. And once it was little bigger than a stool, the merchant simply stepped back through the ivory door behind him, carrying everything in a neatly folded package. And once he stepped inside, the door and its frame were gone from sight and existence, leaving nothing but the same unbroken stone there was everywhere else.

"HOW ARE YOU HERE!?"

Deep within a hidden place, a hall of stocked shelves and dancing veils of blue and purple, in the very heart of a secluded realm defended by golden automata, two familiar fellows met for the last time, as a familiar question was asked by the one that never answered it.

The wanderer's armor was bigger, more decorated and ornamental this time. Shiny as could be, and bearing the seals of the kingdom they'd saved, with the light of the flames glinting off steel and gold. The shield was still the one from the tunnels, further enchanted and runed for greater protection until it had become impassable to anything he had here. The longsword was the same, even more luminous in fact, wielded with more skill than ever as it carved through veils, walls and golden constructs alike. And the horned helmet that the kingdom would forever remember was still upon their head, snagging upon burning veils and tearing them off halls and ceilings without pause.

Meanwhile, the mirrorsome merchant was almost the same this time. For once, he did not have his table with him. All he had was the powerful scepter he'd pulled on his ever-unruly customers before, pointed at the incoming danger. And for once, for the first time since anyone'd remember, there was no amusement in his voice, only alarm. "My esteemed customer, you cannot be here! This place is staff-only, it's mine, and mine alone...! You cannot-" He winced, watching yet another of his guardians be cleaved in half without pause. "IT'S OFF LIMITS! STEP BACK! How are you here!?"

"Take a gander", the wanderer's voice snarled, showing the key they'd taken from the Archbishop's cold, severed hand. They needn't say anything else: Such a key would easily lead someone to his abode, no matter what protections he had. That was why he had every other protection installed in here! Not that they had worked this time...

"You were my best customer, and you can still be, this needn't- you don't have to do this!" The scepter was carefully aimed, the light gathering within the tip's hoop once more, and building further than ever before. "I always had what you needed! I was always there to aid you! Without me, you would've never succeeded, ALL I DID WAS HELP YOU!"

"All you did, peddler, was see the world had but one throat you could strangle for cash, and squeeze it." The wanderer approached, knocking over everything that came within arm's reach, crushing it underneath their boots. "'Not a charity', you say, as towns burn. 'I don't do that anymore', you said as you hid away the things that could've saved thousands. And you only squeezed tighter as you went. Putting everything that could've ended the nightmare weeks before behind your damned prices. Extorting the very world through me..."

At last, their pace quickened, stomping without distractions towards their quarry. "And all the time, as everyone died, all you did was watch! Knowing you could've stopped this at the very start! And yet, you made me do it, made us all pay for it in every way, and then you left with it all! Made us pay for our own salvation!" Their swordgrip tightened, and the blade rose. "IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN BY AIDING US!?"

All the peddler had to answer was "A man's got to make a living", before a beam of piercing light shot out from his scepter, straight towards the Wanderer.

Unfortunately for him, those in the kingdom had improved upon his wares, as the ray that had erradicated dozens in the blink of an eye smashed directly into the mirror, and found itself utterly blocked. It was still a powerful strike, keeping the wanderer stuck in place, doing all they could to not be bowled over by the beam, dropping their sword in place. It would buy the merchant time to think of something else...

And then he saw a swing, somewhere in the blinding light. And a large axe, notched and all too familiar to him, came spinning by.

It struck his cloth-buried shoulder with enough force to sever his shooting arm cleanly, and embed itself into the wall behind him still. The arm flopped onto the floor, followed by the clattering scepter, shut off as it was literally cut off from its wielder. The merchant gawked at it, stumbling back towards the wall and sliding down it, holding his own bleeding stump... By the time he remembered the one that did this was still there, the wanderer was already looming over him.

"Far more than a living, is what you made off me. Off us." They sunk the blade into the floor, and practically tossed the shield away, standing unarmed before the merchant. "It cost far more than you ever made." Off came their gauntlets as well - the same gauntlets they bought off him in the depths of the old palace - leaving their hands bare. "No more."

And both hands were clasped around the mirrorsome merchant's scarf-covered neck, squeezing with more fury than ever before, with strength even the archbishop had not seen. And the last thing he ever saw were those emerald-green eyes, full of fury in the darkness of the helm - they were the very last thing he ever saw as all else went black, right until they, too, winked out.