Several hours later, after a deep, restful sleep, Conrad felt much better. He threw a few things together for breakfast, then went to the front of his shop, opening the shutters and unlocking the door. He stared at the little shop and sighed, blinking his icy blue eyes in the early morning sunlight. He wasn't exactly wealthy from his business, and the storefront showed it in its decrepit state. He sighed softly and headed back inside, taking stock of what was on the shelves and what still needed to be brewed. Not long after, the usual stream of customers came in, asking for magical remedies for all manner of incredibly simple problems. As Conrad took gold and handed over potions and scrolls, he swore he could feel the intelligence of his clientele dropping a little more every day. As lunch rolled around though, the crowds disappated, and Conrad prepared to put up his 'closed for lunch' sign. As he shut the door though, a heavy iron boot caught in the doorway and forced the door back open. in the doorway was a man nearly as wide as he was tall, and Conrad pondered for a moment if he would fit through the tiny shop doorway.
"Conrad Declan?" the man inquired. His voice was deep, and had a demanding, authorative tone to it. Conrad eyed the gilded crest stamped into his armor, marking this gargantuan man as an Imperial Knight. He swept his matted hair out of his eyes, blinking slowly. His hair was a dark brown, but Conrad wasn't entirely sure it started out that way.
"yes... Sorry, but we're closing for lunch. Come back in an hour." he said, and made another weak attempt to shut the door on him. The knight pushed the door aside, snapping it off its hinges.
"My name is Sir Adac, and I require your help, not this cheap, haypenny magic you sell to the locals. I need a professional." Conrad eyed him suspiciously. The Imperial Guard were at the same level as paladins in their strict moral code, so hwe doubted this man was trying to con him. Perhaps he was insane then?
"Look, I don't do anything else. What you see here is what I got" Conrad hjumped as he noticed a particularly sharp knife pressed into his throat. Drake had fluttered into the room and perched on a bookshelf, keeping quiet.
"Don't play stupid with me. I know for a fact that earlier this morning, you attempted to rob the Royal Arcane Library, and, although you were unsuccessful, you did see something we didn't. The real thief. Now, if you help us find this thief, I will spare your life, and even reward you for your efforts. If you refuse..." he pressed the knife harder into his throat. "Let's just say prison is the least of your worries" Conrad growled softly.
"Under the Statute of Justifiable Force, you can't kill me unless I threaten your life or resist arrest somehow." Sir Arac didn't seem to expect to have his own code quoted at him. He smiled and put his knife away.
"Fine then... but I'm going to get your help one way or another." he stated simply. Conrad crossed his arms and grumbled slightly.
"Look, I'm only going to say this once. I don't do work like that..." Sir Arac dropped a large leather purse on the shop counter. "... for just anyone one" he finished, smiling wickedly. He hefted the purse in his hands, mrring slightly. "Five hundred?" Sir Arac nodded. "Fine. I'll use whatever resources I have to find your thief, but I can't guarantee I'll find anything..." The knight nodded and turned to leave, kicking the door aside as he did. Conrad slumped into a chair, sighing.
"Charmin' guy..." Drake muttered, curled up on the counter around the leather purse full of gold. Conrad smirked slightly. For a creature supposedly descended from dragons, he was remarkably catlike. Drake churred softly as he nuzzled the satchel of coins. Conrad sighed and picked up the door, and with a few angrily muttered words, set it back on its hinges.
"So it seems I'm not the only one interested in our mister thief..." Conrad muttered, sitting back in his chair. "Interesting..."