Diradem pushed through black clouds of unconsciousness. A round bearded face uncomfortably near his face. Izlude. And he could smell what the merchant had for dinner. He found Izlude's shoulders and pushed him away as he staggered to get to his feet. His head hurt but he seemed to be alright, otherwise.
He was not in the alley anymore. He was in Izlude's shop. His jacket and shirt was off, and bandages run the length of his arms and most of his chest. Several empty bottles lay on the floor near where he lay.
"Green pots. One wasn't enough to save you," the merchant beside him said.
"My clothes--"
"--were ruined. Had to cut 'em off to get to your wounds. Your pack's right there." Izlude gestured him to where his backpack lay under the counter. His buckler lay beside it, scratched and dented.
"Ah. No worries. I've got clothes there--" he clutched his head and staggered as a wave of vertigo assailed him.
Izlude came beside him, held him up. "Easy there. You're still woozy from the poison."
"I'm in a hurry. There's something I need to do before I leave Alberta..." He picked up his backpack, and rummaged through it finding a dark blue silk long-sleeved shirt.
Diradem noticed that one of the merchant's arms was covered with bandages and his face had some bruises. And the shop's shelves had all tumbled down, spilling the merchant's wares all over the floor. A Mr. Smile mask lay amidst the rubble. Izlude shrugged at the thief's unspoken question, "Heh. You be lookin' far worse than I do. 'sides, those smiling thieves were just kids. Darn brats, sent them off crying back to their mums."
He finished dressing, tucking the end of the shirt into his leather pants. He picked up his backpack and buckler. "Where're my daggers?"
"Hmm? They're right there on the counter. Nice work you've had done on them."
"Yeah...hey, listen. Thanks for the help, Izlude von Prontera." He pressed a purse full of zeny into the large merchant's palm.
"Aww, you shouldn't have, you know." But the grin splitting Izlude's beard told him otherwise. And the merchant did drop the purse into his belt pouch readily enough.
Diradem smiled at the man, nodded and stepped out of the shop.
Now to break into that warehouse.
He stopped. The wedding would be three days from now. But by then, he'll be long gone from Alberta. He looked to the north. Past all these buildings is Sea Side Villa. And there, Venris Dastonia is...sleeping right now, probably. Could she have liked him if they met differently? Ah, but she won't. That's for sure. Because you're a scoundrel, Diradem Tarkis, and she's...she's everything you can't have. Don't be foolish, just forget her--
He was almost run down by the sudden appearance of a pair of riders on a single pecopeco. He watched as the giant flightless bird rushed past him. Gah, you'd think Baphomet himself was pursuing them. One of them even had a wedding veil on. Weird. Crazy newly-weds.
Shrugging, he made his way towards the docks, mind surging with conflicting thoughts of mourning for the friend he killed, and longing for the most beautiful woman he had ever met.
