Finally… I can see that damn village up ahead now.
His legs ached, but his eyes stayed locked on the damaged rooftops barely visible beyond the trees.
I wonder what the panel meant when it said that this attribute I got was born of blood, light, and war..
Well, no use pondering on it too much.
After some time, the sun began to rise, heralding a new day.
Abraham managed to finally reach that village and decided to make a quick visit to his old friend, the bartender!
"Hey! You set me up, you prick!" He yelled, bursting through the door.
The bartender looked at him and froze, mouth gaping.
"Y-You're alive?!"
Abraham scoffed.
"I'm standing right in front of you in the flesh, idiot, of course I am."
Abraham moved towards the counter and sat in the exact seat he had sat in when he first entered the bar.
"I was way angrier before, y'know," he murmured, "But when there was treasure there, albeit nothing crazy, I changed my mind!"
The bartender tugged on his collar, "Changed your mind from what…?"
Abraham grinned. "Killing you, of course! I mean, that treasure did something to me in all kinds of ways."
The bartender wiped a cold sweat off his forehead.
"L-Look, to make it up to you, how about I actually give you a treasure.."
Abraham raised a brow. "Oh?"
Inside lay a broadsword — unmistakably old-world in design, but impossibly pristine. The metal shimmered like it had never known rust, its edges honed to surgical precision. From the center of the blade, a soft yellow glow pulsed gently, as though the weapon itself still breathed.
"Okay, sins forgiven, gimme," Abraham said eagerly.
The bartender picked it up and placed it inside the sheath, which he also grabbed from inside the box. The reason why the sword wasn't just sheathed inside the box? Abraham had no idea, he just wanted the sword.
He snatched it from the bartender's hands and opened up his panel into which he placed it. He opened up his panel to check out what it was:
[Daylight: "Forged in silence at the edge of a forgotten dawn. It is said the blade first drew blood in a war where the sky refused to darken, and no shadow could exist. Those unworthy feel its weight like guilt. Those chosen feel nothing at all."]
Abraham whistled low. "Thank you, good sir. Appreciate this gift…"
He leaned back in his chair and smirked. "Though, I would've loved to get it before I fought off a psycho dog, y'know?"
The bartender exhaled heavily in relief.
"Is there… Anything I could get for you?"
Abraham had flashbacks of the horrendous porridge, causing his face to contort in disgust.
"No… you've been forgiven by me! Truly an honor, really, for someone like you.."
The bartender nodded and glanced down at the ground while rubbing his hands together, probably from the cold, maybe from being nervous.
Abraham stood back up and asked in a relaxed manner:
"Actually… could I get some new clothes?"
The bartender suddenly looked up and hastily went to the back and picked out clothes for Abraham.
He came back and placed them onto the counter.
Abraham picked them up and went into the toilet in a room behind the counter and got changed.
A few minutes later, a man stepped out of the small room behind the counter. He wore a black button-up shirt, the top two buttons casually undone, paired with clean, ironed black trousers. Draped over his shoulders was a midnight black overcoat that seemed to swallow the light around it. His shoes were matte black, polished but understated. Atop his head sat a black homburg, its base wrapped with a subtle grey ribbon.
The bartender looked at him and smiled nervously.
"Ah this is much more like it, thanks."
The bartender nodded eagerly and offered him a new map.
"Another map? Is this another set up or…"
The bartender suddenly said "No! This is… an actual map. It should take you to the nearby port." He paused for a moment, "I'm assuming you need a boat right? I know someone who can help you out."
Abraham raised a brow before saying, "and who might that be?"
"He's a pirate… but not your generic kind — he's a nice guy, he's one of the reasons this village is even alive right now." The bartender replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Once you meet him just say 'timmytentfas.' It's… an inside joke between us."
Abraham sighed. "Okay, cool I'll trust you. But if this ends up being another stupid trap — best believe I'm coming back and gutting you."
The bartender nodded violently.
"Alright then. I'll see you around then, yeah?"
'Why was he being so nice to me this time..? Huh.'
And with that, Abraham leaves the village for the port.