Edward Bartholomew Ignatius Featherstone-Harrington de la Fontaine-Bumblewick III sighed, a breath wasted on the putrid aroma of Eldoria's back alley. He was only twenty-four, but his long brown hair already showed signs of thinning, an unfair premonition of early baldness for a young man who should have been in his prime. He stood 178 cm tall, but his build was scrawny, like a dry twig ready to snap in the wind. And his face... oh, his face. Often mistaken for an Orc or a Goblin, Edward's countenance was a masterpiece of genetic misfortune that could even make street thugs think twice before approaching.
"Damn it," Edward muttered, his sunken eyes sweeping over a pile of wet garbage. "Where's the treasure? Where's my first angelic wife?"
Edward's motivations were as simple, and as complex, as that: to become the richest person in the entire universe, and to have a thousand wives as beautiful as angels. A very noble ambition, of course, for an orphaned wanderer with no connections, no capital, and not even an adequate physique. His only truly valuable asset was his Extraordinary Luck, a cosmic anomaly that somehow always pulled him out of the jaws of hell.
Today, that luck had brought him to Eldoria, a city famous for its bustling black markets and rumors of hidden treasures around every corner. Edward, with his keen Thievery (Pilfering) skills, had set his sights on a noble's mansion that was rumored to hold priceless family heirlooms. Unfortunately, the heirloom was not found in a pile of garbage.
"Perhaps this is just a rough start," Edward reassured himself, though his stomach rumbled with hunger. He pulled a stale piece of bread from his pocket and began chewing it with a look of disgust. His physical strength was indeed weak, and he knew it well. But his brain... his brain was his sword, his shield, and also his map to wealth.
With perfect Social Manipulation, Edward had managed to extract information from several drunken vagrants about the location of the mansion. He also mastered all common languages, allowing him to absorb rumors and gossip with ease.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the end of the alley. Edward froze. This was his true weakness: fear. If there wasn't a big reward on the line, he could become completely paralyzed. He immediately hid behind a large garbage bin, his heart pounding like a war drum.
Two large figures appeared, their shadows looming tall on the wall. They were city guards, with dull armor and cruel expressions. One of them kicked an empty can on the street, producing a deafening clang.
"What's that smell?" grumbled the first guard. "Seems like a big rat scurrying around here."
The second guard snorted. "Leave it be. I heard there's a new fugitive in town. Their heads are worth a bounty."
Edward held his breath. A fugitive? Could it be him? He did have a bad reputation that tended to precede him, even if he had never met the people who spread the gossip. This was one of the downsides of having a "terrifying" appearance.
The two guards slowly approached Edward's hiding spot. Panic began to creep into his mind. If they found him, his days were numbered. He had no network or support whatsoever.
Suddenly, a black cat leaped from atop the garbage bin, meowing loudly, and slammed into one of the guards. The guard stumbled, cursed, and their attention was diverted.
"Damn it! Stupid cat!" yelled the first guard, trying to kick the cat.
Edward knew this was his chance. A small window, thanks to luck from who-knows-where. Without wasting any time, he darted out of his hiding place, slipped between the shadows, and disappeared into the labyrinth of back alleys.
He didn't stop running until he was breathless and his legs felt like jelly. Edward leaned against a cold wall, trying to catch his breath. Luck, once again, had saved him.
"Alright, Plan C," Edward muttered, a thin grin on his face. "The mansion is too tight. Time to find something... easier."
His eyes now fixed on a dimly lit tavern across the street, where sailors and adventurers gathered. The perfect place to listen to gossip, steal information, and perhaps, just perhaps, find a shortcut to a thousand wives and piles of gold.
Edward Bartholomew Ignatius Featherstone-Harrington de la Fontaine-Bumblewick III knew full well that his life was a game. And he, the money-grubbing coward, intended to win it, by any means necessary.
---
The "The Rusty Flagon" tavern was a perfect den of thieves.
The smell of stale ale, sweat, and tobacco mingled to form the characteristic aroma of poverty and false hope. Edward grinned thinly. This was his natural habitat, a place where information flowed freely for those who knew how to steal it.
With a deliberately hesitant step, Edward entered the tavern. His Terrifying Face immediately drew attention. Some drunken sailors choked on their ale, while others stared at him with a mix of fear and disgust. Edward ignored them, sauntering to the bar as if he were a lost nobleman.
"A glass of plain water," he ordered the portly bartender who glared at him. "And whispers about anything valuable in this city."
The bartender snorted. "We sell ale here, not gossip, kid."
Edward smiled, a grimace that made his face look even more goblin-like. "Of course. But gossip, when properly processed, can be more valuable than pure gold, can't it?" He pulled out a worn copper coin. "For the best gossip, this coin is yours."
The copper coin was actually worthless, but his manipulative abilities began to work. The bartender, seemingly unaccustomed to someone as blunt and strange as Edward, wavered slightly.
"Alright, freak," the bartender said, taking the coin with suspicion. "There are rumors. Rumors about a dragon's gem."
Edward's eyes sparkled. A dragon's gem? That sounded expensive.
"Go on?" Edward urged, leaning forward.
"It's said the gem is hidden in an old dragon's cave in the Blackfang mountains," the bartender continued, his voice a little lower. "Many have tried, none have returned." He added with a cynical tone.
Edward ignored the last part. "Old dragon's cave," he repeated, his brain spinning rapidly. That meant there was a dragon. And dragons meant danger. And danger meant... a big reward! His inherent cowardice was still present, but the potential for immense wealth and a thousand wives began to erode his fear.
While the bartender was busy serving other customers, Edward turned his attention to a group of adventurers in the corner. They seemed like the type who liked to show off their stories and plans. With his honed pilfering skills, Edward approached, pretending to be interested in a bounty poster on the wall.
"So, we're agreed?" said one of the adventurers, a muscular man with a braided beard. "We'll raid the Goblin lair in the Silent Forest tomorrow morning. There's bound to be gold there."
"Goblin gold? Peanuts," Edward suddenly interrupted, his voice sounding dismissive. The adventurers turned, staring at him with hostile gazes.
"Who are you, scrawny?" growled the muscular man.
"Me? I'm someone who knows that Goblin gold is just crumbs compared to true treasure," Edward puffed out his chest, though his posture made him look like a toothpick. "You're talking about a Goblin lair, when there's a dragon's gem waiting to be found in the old dragon's cave of Blackfang."
The adventurers exchanged glances. There was doubt in their eyes, but also a hint of intrigue. Edward knew he had sown the seeds of doubt.
"Nonsense!" snapped the muscular man, trying to save face. "Who believes such superstitions?"
"Fools, of course," Edward replied casually, shrugging. "But for those with guts and brains, the dragon's gem is real. Imagine, a treasure that could make you retire and live in luxury." He let the words hang in the air.
Then, with a sly smile, Edward feigned a yawn. "But never mind, it's none of my business. I just want to drink water and find information for a truly profitable adventure." He turned, pretending to leave.
"Wait!" The muscular man called out to him. "How do you know about that gem? And why aren't you looking for it yourself?"
Edward smirked inwardly. His bait had worked. He turned back, his eyes narrowing mysteriously. "Because I'm not stupid. That dragon's cave is dangerous, very dangerous. I need a truly brave team, not a bunch of small-time Goblin hunters." He looked at them challengingly.
"So, you're saying we're not brave?" challenged one of the adventurers.
"I'm just saying, the dragon's gem requires more than just brawn. It requires strategy, information, and... luck," Edward raised an eyebrow. "But that's your problem, not mine."
Edward left them in confusion, having already gotten the information he needed. There was a dragon's gem. Located in an old dragon's cave in the Blackfang mountains. And more importantly, there was a group of greedy adventurers he had just manipulated into considering the idea. He knew full well his blinding obsession could make him take foolish risks, but this time, he would let others take those risks for him.
Perfect.