#fourzer0seven

“Oh,” Scotty sighed, rolling his eyes. “What d'you want now, Delirious?”

Delirious snickered. He made his way over and gave the chest a knock with his knuckle. “What's in the box?”

Scotty shifted it over, it took some muscle to do so, and gave Delirious a look. “Nothing that concerns you, now, please just tell me what you want.”

With an exasperated groan, Delirious relented. “Fine, buzz kill, I'm here to see if you got any healing salves on you? Maybe some interesting potions I can take off your hands.”

“Aren't you broke?”

“I'm good for it!”

“That's what you said last time.”

Delirious threw his hands up, incredulous. “Last time wasn't my fault, I already told you. But this time, me and Marcel <em>will</em> make money and we'll pay you back in full.” When Scotty didn't budge, he changed tactics. “Pleaaaaaaase, Scotty, buddy, pal, my dearest of friends, you'll really be helping us out.” He clasped his hands together and pouted his lips.

A beat passed, Scotty continued to stare, and then finally, reluctantly, “Ugh, fine, but I'm serious about this this time, I'm trying to run a business. Just wait here, and don't touch the box, I'll know if you do.”

Delirious saluted and Scotty turned on his heel, disappearing behind the curtain again.

As he waited, his eyes roamed around the room he knew well. Herbs hung from wood beams above him and in glass display cases held little hand carved trinkets, smoke pipes, and knives. Old books organized meticulously on raw fiber shelves. There were beakers and bottles strewn about in a clear show of Scotty's mad work.

And then they settled onto the chest again. Curiosity ate at him. The chest was clearly old. Paint chipped and the lock worn but it was gilded in gold and radiated with something he knew must've been interesting.

<em>Take it.</em>

He was just starting to reach over, when Scotty came back with a tray of things. Delirious snatched his hand back but knew he'd been caught. Scotty raised a brow at him. He didn't say anything, just shook his head.

The tray was loud as he set it down. Bottles rattled from the momentum and clinked together. The liquid in them were mostly hues of red but one glowed a bright sky blue and another smaller vial was a gross looking green, the kind that bordered on yellow, leaving a sickly aura.

“Kay, so, I've got healing potions,” Scotty pointed towards the red ones. “The blue one is gonna give you a boost of speed for a bit, and the green one,” he picked it up gently and narrowed his eyes at it, scrutinizing, like he wasn't the one to make it. “It's supposed to make you a little, er, heartier. I haven't been able to test it out. Maybe you can?”

Delirious looked skeptical, his brows furrowing. “What if it kills me?”

“It's not poison.” Scotty scoffed. “Though, it might not have the intended effect. At most you'll be sick. But I'm giving you health potions– for free, I might add– so if anything happens, you know…” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine,” Delirious conceded, already deciding to have Marcel be the test rat instead.

“Great, tell me how it goes for you. You'll take that one and you can choose three others.”

He nodded, humming with indecision. He'd have to get at least two red ones, one for him and one for Marcel. He could go for a third (you could never have too many) but the blue one– the speed potion, called to him too.

He pulled out his bag, a brown satchel, the leather soft with wear, and began tucking the chosen potions in. The green vial vanished into the bag and then the two reds without a sound. His hand hovered over the last healing potion, but it was all for show, he'd already decided.

The blue bottle joined the rest, disappearing behind the lip of the leather lining.

When that was over, Scotty tucked the tray under the counter and dusted his hands off. “So, you guys got a job or what?”

Delirious slung the satchel back over his shoulder. “Kind of.” He grinned, a lopsided thing, something like embarrassment coloring his expression. “Well, we will. We’re going to talk to someone about the- uh, the echo caves.”

Scotty stared blankly. “You're kidding.”

“Untold treasures, Scotty.”

“A roomer— a myth, of untold treasures, Delirious. And it’s incredibly dangerous down there.” Scotty rubbed his brow as if their conversation was suddenly giving him a headache. It probably was. “That’s why it’s blocked off.”

Delirious waved a hand. “Bah, for lesser adventurers maybe. Me and Marcel—”

”Marcel and I,” Scotty interjected.

“Marcel and I have a plan for that.”

Scotty sighed and then shrugged, a look of acceptance passing over his face. “Just don’t die, alright? You need to pay me back, and I’m not gonna go down a cave just to rummage through your corpse.”

“Aye, aye, cap’m!”

Eventually, after some light conversation just catching up, Delirious bid Scotty farewell with a thank you and a promise to repay him.

—

The White Roc was the biggest tavern in town, which also meant it was the most populated and just about the seediest it could get. It was three stories tall, with rickety balconies and water stained windows. The tables and chairs were ramshackle from years of being destroyed and repaired over and over.

The big sign above the door was missing the H in white and the bird, a poorly done rendition of a roc, had part of its left wing broken, hanging precariously by a stubborn piece of wood that wouldn't give.

It waved at Delirious as he walked up to the entrance.

The barkeep offered a welcome as he stepped inside. He immediately scanned the room for Marcel. The place was packed, filled with an array of characters, but Delirious could pick Marcel out easily. For the roguish type, Marcel was quite loud and boisterous when he wasn't trying to break into places and swipe things off of people. He was laughing raucously at something another patron must have said, his arm swinging wildly, spilling the drink in his hand.

Delirious made his way over to him, his boots adhering to the sticky floor with each step. As he got closer, the surrounding bar goers began to disperse. He slapped his hands down onto Marcel's shoulders when he finally reached him and pulled him backwards. Marcel floundered for a second before he looked up to meet Delirious’ eyes.

“Oh, hey, you got the stuff?” He asked, voice strained from the leaned back position.

Delirious pushed him back towards the table and grabbed an empty stool to sit on. “Yeah,” he plopped down. “But we really gotta pay Foozer back this time.”

“We will!” Marcel exclaimed. “You told him that right?”

“Yeah, I promised.”

Marcel nodded. “Then boom, we will.” He took a swig of whatever was in his mug and then gestured towards a table to their right. Whoever was sitting there was blocked off by the high backs of the booth seats. “Them there's the one we gotta talk to.”

Delirious nodded, craning his head to get a peak. All he could catch was a glimpse of gray hair, and the pointed tip of an ear.

They made their way over and took a seat. The man, a half-elf so old it was showing, looked up at them and narrowed his eyes.

“Thought there'd be more of ya.”

They both shrugged in unison.

“Well, alright,” the man shrugged back. “So the echo caves…”

Delirious leaned in as he listened. Balkas, the man's name he had learned, told them of his old adventuring party and the horrible venture into the echo caves decades ago. He told them of what he had lost, the friends who didn't make it out, and he told them of the creatures that lurked there. Their ability to mimic voices in unnerving precision. Balkas also talked of the treasure, how he'd seen it just before his party was slaughtered. A horde as big as a dragons with jewels and gems and raw untouched gold ore all piled together.

“I have one request, if you still wish to delve into the cave.”

Marcel motioned for him to continue.

Balkas lifted a hand to his chest and pulled a chain from under his tunic. Dangling from the end of it was a small circular talisman with two pointed figures in the middle that resembled a lobster's claws.

“My companians… we all wore these. It's our– it was our party symbol. If you retrieve these from them, if they're still there, and you bring them back to me, I can pay.” He pulled out a small sack. “I don't have much but, uh...”

The sack plunked down onto the table between them and Delirious and Marcel quickly shared a look before nodding their heads enthusiastically. “Yeah we can do that for ya.”

—

The trek to the echo caves was only a half days journey as long as they kept moving.

This was no problem for Delirious, who'd been on the move for most of his life. And though Marcel never talked about his past, he knew the same was for him as well.

They made quick work up the mountain, dodging branches and fighting off hungry wolves and even directing a few lost halfling boys back to town. Once they came face to face with the mouth of the cave, Delirious took a halting stop.

“Before we go in,” he said, and took two vials out of his bag. The potions Scotty leant them. “Healing and, uh… well, I'm not sure. Scotty said it'd make you tougher.”