The Thing That Makes a Hero a Hero

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Amidst the bustling chaos of Obelus' black market, Freddie, a merchant with a discerning eye, stood out. While others sought legendary artifacts, Freddie specialized in the overlooked, the ordinary items that others dismissed as worthless.

It was a gift from the gods, this uncanny ability to appraise the true worth of an object. Yet, instead of using it to seek out legendary artifacts or powerful enchantments, Freddie had turned it into a profitable venture. He scoured the market, the taverns, and the homes of adventurers, searching for items that others had dismissed as worthless.

A young adventurer once approached Freddie, brandishing a tarnished locket and claiming it was a relic of ancient dragons. Freddie, with a knowing smile, offered a copper coin, explaining its true worthlessness.

Amidst the clamor of the black market, Freddie's stall stood out like a beacon amidst the chaos. The market itself was a sprawling labyrinth of temporary stalls, their colorful signs advertising everything from magical potions to stolen goods.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat, smoke, and unwashed bodies. Horses, their coats slick with sweat, were tethered to makeshift hitching posts. Dogs of all shapes and sizes roamed the market, sniffing at discarded food and barking at passing strangers.

Beggars, their eyes filled with desperation, held out tin cups, hoping for a few copper coins. Guides, their voices raised above the din, offered to lead adventurers to the best deals or the most dangerous parts of the market.

Freddie's stall was a simple affair: a collapsible table piled high with a variety of objects, each with a small label detailing its supposed properties. The sign above read, "Fair Deal Fine Finds for Heroes Only," and beneath it were three rules:

    All sales are final.
    No return, no exchange.
    Handling of merchandise is not allowed.

On a typical weekend, the black market would be teeming with activity. Adventurers, merchants, and thieves would mingle, haggling over everything from potions to weapons. Freddie, however, remained calm and collected. He knew his clientele.

As the day wore on, a steady stream of adventurers passed by Freddie's stall. Some were young and eager, their eyes wide with wonder. Others were grizzled veterans, their faces etched with the lines of countless battles. Each one had a different goal, a different desire, but Freddie could see it all.

The proud young mage of the S level party Victorious, his robes adorned with intricate symbols, approached the stall. He paused before a glowing Orb of Elements, his hand hovering over it. Freddie knew what he was thinking: "This must be a powerful artifact." But Freddie also knew that the orb was nothing more than a glass sphere filled with shimmering dust in the hands of the wrong person.

"All sales are final," Freddie said, pointing to the sign.

The mage hesitated, then nodded and walked away.

A group of young rowdy adventurers, their armor clanking as they moved, stopped by the stall. One of them picked up a rusty sword and examined it closely. "This looks like a relic from the ancient Dragon Wars," he said.

Freddie chuckled. "It's a souvenir from a blacksmith's forge," neglecting to say the blacksmith held the title of the Anvil of Gods, because there was a difference between one who owned it and one who could use it.

The adventurer frowned but put the sword back. "No thanks," he said.

Freddie continued to watch the crowd. He saw the longing in the eyes of the young adventurer, the desperation in the eyes of the struggling merchant, the greed in the eyes of the thief.

As the day wore on, a young girl and her father approached Freddie's stall. The girl's eyes sparkled as she gazed at a small, heart-shaped pendant. Freddie knew instantly what she was thinking.

"That's a very special pendant," he said, holding it up. "It's called the Heart of Gold. It's said to increase your charm for every good deed you do, and decrease it for every bad deed."

The girl's eyes widened. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Her father looked at Freddie skeptically. "How much?" he asked.

"Five gold pieces," Freddie replied.

The father hesitated. Five gold pieces was a lot for a simple pendant. But he could see the longing in his daughter's eyes.

"Five gold pieces?" the father echoed, his voice incredulous. "For this? The pendant is quite nice, but I notice a small scratch here."

Freddie held the pendant up, its golden heart shimmering in the sunlight. "That's right," he said, his voice firm. "Ah, That's not a scratch, Father. That's a mark of authenticity. It shows that the pendant has a history, a story to tell."

The father raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Really," he said.

Freddie leaned into the story. "Legend has it that this pendant was once worn by the powerful sorceress Thalia who used it to protect Qialoria from a terrible curse. The scratch is said to be the result of the battles she fought to overcome the curse, a testament to its resilience and power."

"Is that so?"

Freddie nodded with sincerity. "And just look at the color. It's a deep, rich emerald green. A color associated with wisdom, prosperity, and love. This pendant is more than just a piece of jewelry. It's a symbol of hope and protection. Besides," Freddie tried another approach, "it matches your daughter's eyes perfectly," holding the pendant nearer the girl. "Don't you want to be a hero?" Freddie asked the girl.

The girl's eyes smiled.

The father held back his daughter and said, "That's quite a story, but five gold pieces is still a lot for a pendant. Try one gold piece," the father proposed a much more reasonable price.

"Five gold pieces."

The father shook his head. "That's far too much. I could buy a dozen of these at the market for that price."

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "And where exactly did you find those dozen pendants that could increase your charm?" When the girl looked at her father with puppy eyes, Freddie knew the deal was done.

The father was taken aback. He hadn't considered that. "Well, I-"

"Don't tell me," Freddie interrupted. "You're just trying to get a bargain. But I'm not selling this pendant for anything less than five gold pieces."

The father hesitated. Five gold pieces was a lot for a simple pendant. But he could see the longing in his daughter's eyes.

"Five gold pieces?" the father echoed, his voice incredulous. "For this?"

Freddie held the pendant up, its golden heart shimmering in the sunlight. "That's right," he said, his voice firm. "Five gold pieces."

As the father and daughter continued to haggle with Freddie, several men in uniform approached the stall. Freddie, however, was so engrossed in the negotiation that he didn't notice them.

A carriage pulled up nearby, and a figure emerged. It was Uther, the legendary hero of the now infamous War of Endless Attrition. He was now old and wizened, his once-mighty frame stooped with age.

Freddie, oblivious to the arrival of the hero, continued to argue with the father. "Four gold pieces is my final offer," he insisted. "Take it or leave it."

The father sighed. "Fine," he said, reaching into his pocket.

Just as he was about to hand Freddie the gold, Uther approached the stall. He watched the exchange with a knowing smile.

Freddie, finally noticing the hero's presence, pointed to the sign above his stall. "All sales are final," he said firmly.

Uther nodded. "I understand," he replied. "But I would like to make you a different offer."

Freddie raised an eyebrow. "What kind of offer?"

Uther looked at the father and daughter. "I will pay you five gold pieces for the pendant," he said.

Freddie, taken aback by Uther's interference, berated the hero. "How dare you interrupt my sale?" he exclaimed. "This is a private matter between me and my customer."

Uther, however, remained calm. He simply smiled and held up a small, unassuming ring. It was a simple band of gold, with no adornments or engravings.

Freddie examined the ring with his discerning eyes. He quickly appraised it. "That's a worthless ring. It has no magical properties," said Freddie, while pointing to the sign "All Sales Are Final".

Uther smiled. "You're right," he replied. "But it's more than just a ring."

He held the ring up and looked at it fondly. "This is the Ring of All That Is Lost," he said. "It was sold to me at the beginning of the War of Endless Attrition. For 5 gold," Uther added.

"And this ring helped you survive?" Freddie asked.

Uther nodded. "Yes," he replied. "It was a simple ring, but it had a powerful effect on me. It reminded me of everything I had lost. And it was endless."

Freddie was silent for a moment and said "Good."

"I apologize for interrupting your sale," Uther said. "I just wanted to express my gratitude. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here today," Uther said. "I would have perished in that damned war."

"It was just a ring," Freddie said. "A worthless ring."

Uther smiled. "No, it wasn't."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch. He poured the contents of the pouch into Freddie's hand. It was a handful of gold coins, five in total.

"And thank you for selling me the ring," Uther said.

"You are welcome," Freddie smiled.

Uther turned to the father and daughter. "And thank you for your patience," he said. "I hope this will help you, little heroine," he said to the little girl solemnly.

The little daughter nodded gravely. Father and daughter thanked Uther profusely for the gift, but Freddie was already busy hawking his wares to other people passing by his stall.