SMILE (Post Forest Temple)

The Golden Skulltula. This notorious pub in the deepest belly of Castle Town slums is one of the most famous place for all the unsavory characters to meet, for those who's in the know, of course. For the regular, law-abiding citizens, even the exact location of this long-serving rathole will be out of reach. The ones who can find it, however, probably will find whatever it is they seek. Or at least some who can be paid to do it.

And one of the men who always delivers, who consistently delivers, through hell or high water, is him. Yours truly.

His gaze sweeps on the various characters in the establishment, watching with satisfaction the faces he knows -or more accurately, the silhouette of those he has ever encountered. For it is the norm for those who visit here to obscure their faces with something, or sometimes not having face altogether. The majority of those here even is not who they claim to be. Of course, considering what kind of deals usually done here, it is only natural.

He taps his chin. The offer he got a few days ago was... intriguing. He didn't know that the thing he found at random had any value. He had half-jokingly showed it to some folks here, and was really surprised when he was contacted for an actual offer. Of course, he is too savvy -and too experienced- to swallow any offer at the first chance. He tested these mysterious customers first, and only when they exceeded his expectation he knew that they were serious. So a deal was agreed, and here he is, already taking his comfortable place behind one of the tables, eyes facing the door while her right hand held a half-drunk mead.

He heard that the little princess of Hyrule was having an official visit downtown: her first after the supposed injury she picked up while accompanying and expedition somewhere. Not that he cares much. His world and their world are literally, well, worlds apart. He has to admit that the sharp shaping up of the Kingdom led by the princess recently has made it somewhat herder for him and his fellows to conduct their businesses. But they will find a way. They always will. Well, lets hope his clients don't get lost in the commotion by the princess above.

Hm? Is that them?

Two hooded figures in black robes, their faces of course unseen, come through the door. Some throw a glance at them, but most pay them little heed. These mysterious figures are everywhere in this place. And to each their own.

It doesn't take long for them to catch sight of him and approaches his table. Good. They know who to meet.

"I'll go straight ta' business," he says before the two figures even take a seat. "How much ye offer?"

The figures doesn't even glance at each other. Oho. Well-drilled, eh?

"That depends," says one. A young woman, it seems. "On how much you can handle."

He lets out a hearty chuckle, slamming his glass on the table. "Hah! Haha! Hahahaha! Girl I like ye."

"Likewise," the figure replies without missing a bit. Its hard to know whether she is joking or not from her tone. "But first-"

"Yeah yeah 'course." A small sack is lifted and he drops it on the table. "The usual."

With a bit, just a tiny bit of flair, he unties the sack and reveals what is under wraps. He isn't a showman, for sure. That is how he survived this long.

The two figures lean closer to the table. One of them, apparently, is more averse than the other. The speaker is the one who draws closer.

He leans back, gauging their reaction. "Not my business, of course, but what see ye here? Way I see it? It's corpse."

"One man's trash, is another man's stash."

"Heh. Yeah yeah. Ain't gonna complain 'bout that."

The speaker then pulls out a sack of her own. "Do you mind?"

"Nah. Do what ye want."

But the thing she pulled out of her sack, was something else. Even he winces as the -thing-whatever- that is under wraps there, something behind a crystal case, emanates an aura so foul it sickens even him.

For a moment, a few tables around them stops buzzing. People turns their heads towards the table. Some disgusted. Most afraid.

And as fast as it happens, the miasma ends. The strange thing is once again secured inside the hooded figure's sack. He whistles.

"Damn, girl. I've seen my share of rotten things, I have. But that thing. That thing is evil."

Strangely, he can sense the girl under the hood is smiling.

"But it did confirm that what you've got is a real sample from that world. You should be grateful."

She leans back to her chair.

"So. To actual business."

He grins. Oh he's going to get it big. He knows it.

"Yea, girl. To business."