PREMISE: originally this was going to be a stinky smut piece. this excerpt is not. i'm not particularly skilled at writing sex scenes so i gave up. thera finds margit's shackle and keeps it in her inventory long after they've met but before the whole realm of shadow hullabaloo, not wanting to admit she has such a terrible item but also not wanting anyone else to get their hands on it. eventually morgott figures out it's in her possession and... doesn't exactly mind. and is very normal about it.
yeah. i don't write smut lol. not out of some """puritan""" disdain for sex, i just tried and realized it's kind of clunky and un-sexy with how i typically write. i prefer to read it. feel free to imagine what happens like 80 years after this excerpt of her getting it from patches takes place. it was super hot in my head, i promise.
In the early years of her stay in the Lands Between, Thera ignored all calls of Grace, choosing rather to search for remnants of her true calling: the Crucible. She frequently abandoned the Roundtable for corpse-strewn ruins and forests in hopes of finding even a hint of the current that stirred her soul. One evening, as she got ready to hide away for the night, she entered a cave. There, she discovered a man hiding in an outcropping with his shield and spear drawn. He attacked her, accusing her of theivery; she screamed and kicked and threw daggers at him until one got too close to his ear, causing him to forfiet the battle. He begged for mercy and Thera granted it, watching warily as he cowered in the mud beneath his greatshield. In recompense for her wasted time -- as well as a blade of hers that chipped from striking a rock -- he offered his services as a merchant. He introduced himself as Patches.
"Just a man of many trades," he insisted upon catching his breath. "Untethered, much like you, gracious lady." Thera opted to ignore whatever that was meant to imply.
He spread the contents of his pack on the floor. Amongst the miscellaneous trinkets and small arms was a black-and-gold hunk of metal, choked by roots and radiating a faint, almost sickly yellow glow. The emblem carved on the object resembled the ancient Erdtree-Crucible insignia, though it was hard to tell with how rusted it was. Curiosity, as it always did, got the best of her.
She turned it around in her palm. "What is this?"
"Hm? Oh, that. I dunno, friend." Patches' sing-song tone and feigned manners clearly did not work to lower his client's guard. He shrugged and instead offered the blunt truth. "Found it up the river -- washed in from the north, by the looks of it. Somewhere 'round Leyndell, maybe. Lots of goodies come down from there."
At the mention of the holy city, Thera's eyebrows raised of their own accord.
Patches noted this subtle expression and perked up once more. "Worth a decent amount if that truly is the case. Seven thousand runes and it's yours, my dear! A fine investment, if I could give my opinion."
With her remaining daggers visible on her belt, Thera haggled the price down to five thousand. The friendly, cowardly merchant conceded to her empty threats, allowing her to walk away with her back turned and a studious gaze upon her new artefact. As she made her way back up the riverbank from the cave, she traced the tangled roots with her thumb. If this truly was an object from the time where the Crucible still was in a seat of power, it was no mistake that she stumbled into that cave and met Patches in particular. Though the source of it -- both seller and origin -- was dubious, there was no denying the magnetic nature of the thing.