LT Chapter 1

Lein rolled his eyes at the sharp laugh behind him. Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore-

“AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA,” came the noise again, and Lein finally turned around. “Would you PLEASE stop-“, he started, only to be interrupted by yet a third burst of laughter. Lein turned around, sighing raggedly. The sun shone on to him, bathing him in its rays and casting his features in a whole new light.

He was tall for an Agori, with dark green armor and helmet and dark, piercing orange eyes that seemed to give up on you if you could not hold on to his attention for more than thirty seconds. It was nothing personal; it was the way traders worked. If you couldn't make a deal with them, you were dead to them. There was no middle ground, as he was about to find out.

“Come on, Lein,” said Dyra, grin splitting her attractive face in two and breaking Lein out of his thoughts, “just tough it up and walk up the hill. We’re almost to the village.” Lein sighed and started hauling his way up the hill, dragging his cart behind him.

“How did I end up getting stuck with you as my girlfriend?” asked Lein, more to himself than to Dyra. Instantly, he regretted it; he could almost feel Dyra’s stare burning a hole in his back.

“What was that I heard, Lein? I could have sworn you’d said something.”

Lein straightened up in mock fright. “No, Dyra,” he stammered, “I didn’t say anything, love.”

"As I recall," she said, walking faster and gaining ground on him, "you waited and begged for weeks to try and find a date with me, and in the end, it was a pity date. We started talking, got to find some common interests, and here we are two years later, with me being twice as manly as you and us travelling ot a village in the Great Forest."

Lein grumbled and muttered, grunting something like, "Thanks for reminding me."

As Dyra finally caught up to him, Lein saw a rustle in a bush nearby. He stopped and stared for a few moments, but then shrugged and continued on, only to find his path blocked by a cloaked stranger. He was medium height and cloaked entirely in black, save the yellowish glint of the sun hitting his discolored teeth, which were shaped in a half-hearted grin, as if he were being told how people react when they’re among friends. He obviously wasn't a good listener.

“Hey, trader,” said Cloaky, “you look pretty tired. You want me to help lighten your load?” Dyra smiled forcedly. “No, thanks,” she said, “my friend and I here can manage just fine. This isn’t that much.” The stranger smiled. “Then, how would you like it if I could DOUBLE your income you’d normally make today?”
Lein shook his head.

“I’m looking to make a load of cash anyway, man, but thanks for the offer.” He began to walk forward, but Dyra grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He leaned in close to hear what she had to say.

“Lein, maybe this is a good idea…think about how much we could make today if we double our profits. We could take up to three weeks off from travelling if we make as much as we’re expected to.” Lein sighed.

“Listen, Dyra, I really don’t trust this guy. Bandits like this are very, very tricky. If we can distract him and make a break for it, we can get to the village with no problem and make GUARANTEED money. We’re going-“

“Sure!” yelled Dyra, her face bright. “What do we have to do?” The stranger grinned, as if she’d reacted exactly as he wanted her to. He brushed a leaf off his shoulder and caught it lightly in his hand. “We flip this leaf. If it lands dull side-up, then I give you this,” he said, showing a bag full of money. “If it lands bright side-up, though, then I take your cart and all that’s in it.” Dyra grinned, nodding, imagining all they could do with that kind of cash. Lein began to shake his head, but was stopped by Dyra’s hand sliding into his. The stranger flipped the leaf with two of his fingers, catching it deftly in his palm as it landed on…bright. Lein cursed and Dyra’s face fell; her bet had failed.

“Well,” said Lein, “great joke, man, but we’ve gotta hit the village before we’re beaten to the punch. See you around.” The stranger shook his head, almost sadly, and gestured. Immediately, six friends (with quality Thornax Launchers, Lein noted, probably of his own creation) slid out of the branches that made up the trees around the two Jungle Agori, and both mentally cursed. They were beaten.

“Fine,” said Lein, spitting the word as if it were a curse, “take the bloody carts. Let’s go, Dyra.” Dyra opened her mouth, eyes shining as if about ready to explode in a burst of tears, but Lein grabbed her hand and pulled, anger radiating from his body, ready to go home.

Had it only been a different day, a different place, a different kind of man stalking back to his hut, girlfriend in tow, the events that transpired at that point would have undoubtedly turned out drastically different.