Lucian's gaze lingered on the two objects in Patches' hands.
One was something he recognized from the original game — an item Patches would sell; Margit's Shackle. Or rather, the Shackle of the "Fell Omen". But Lucian knew that "Margit" was only an alias, a mere vessel.
This was in truth the shackle of Morgott, The Grace Given Lord, a fact known to almost no one.
Roots twined around a cracked stone bearing the mark of the Elden Ring — a fragment of something once whole. Lucian guessed that the original shackle that had once imprisoned Morgott must have been massive, and that when Morgott broke free, the device had shattered.
This piece held only a faint remnant of magic, able to restrain Morgott's movements for only a fleeting moment.
But the other object Patches produced caught Lucian completely off guard.
It was a statue of a baby — but not of any ordinary infant.
Its skin was rough and thick, its surface dotted with countless round cross-sections painted a vivid, blood-red. It was an Omen Bairn.
Under the Erdtree's shade, people believed that Omen babies were born under a curse. These infants emerged into the world bearing grotesque, hardened horns. At birth, ordinary mothers would die from the blood loss caused by these horns tearing them apart.
The horns were always cut away, and most of the children perished in the process. Whether alive or dead, they were then discarded into the sewers.
The Omen Bairn were crafted by those tasked with this work — offerings meant to placate the spirits of the discarded, so that the dead Omen children would not curse or resent them.
Lucian's eyes moved between the two objects. Just who had Patches robbed to end up with these?
"Where did you get them?" Lucian asked.
Patches didn't answer. Instead, he set the items aside and held out his hand.
"Pay first. Then I'll tell you."
Lucian didn't hesitate. Even without considering the Omen Bairn, the shackle was something he absolutely had to obtain.
"All right. Name your price."
Patches paused, unsure how to value the pair. The Bairn could be infused with magic to summon strange creatures to attack enemies — a handy effect.
As for the stone fragment, he was certain it was connected to the Fell Omen — he had once glimpsed the creature from afar and could not be mistaken. But he had no idea what the fragment was truly for, and in his mind it was little more than a secondary prize.
And as for his earlier claim that these two items could make it "not impossible" to defeat the Fell Omen? Well — Patches prided himself on being an excellent part-time merchant (and full-time bandit). What was wrong with adding a little sales pitch while moving some stolen goods?
"How about… 7,000 runes?"
Even he felt a twinge of anxiety — it was an outrageous sum, far more than most Tarnished could muster. Looking at Lucian's soldier's armor, Patches assumed the man would need to go scrounging for months.
That was fine by him. As long as the loot moved eventually, it was profit — big profit. And besides, there was a secret tied to these items that made them even more valuable.
His only fear was that Lucian might balk at the price altogether.
But Lucian simply nodded. "Reasonable enough."
He extended his hand toward Patches.
"Good," he said.
Patches froze, momentarily confused.
"Uh… what's this? You're not going back to gather the runes?"
"What are you talking about?" Lucian asked, brow furrowed. "I'll just pay you now."
Patches was skeptical, but placed his hand against Lucian's.
Hhhsssss!
Patches sucked in a sharp breath — the temperature in the cave seemed to rise a degree. He had never seen so many runes in one place. It's over 9,000! Enough to buy the goods and still have plenty left over.
He looked at Lucian again — this man was a wealthy Tarnished indeed.
"Well… I'll just take my payment then?"
"Go ahead."
Lucian released his control over the runes, allowing Patches to draw them out.
Patches carefully extracted 6,500 runes.
"…Huh? That's not quite the amount you said."
Patches' grin spread, unsettlingly wide.
"Oh, I just felt you were a friendly sort. Gave you a little discount — no need to thank me. And of course, if you come buy from me more often, you'll be making a killing."
Lucian smirked. He could stand to give Patches some business now and then — who knew, maybe one day he'd dig up a +22 Sword of Swords from him.
"All right. Now hand them over, and tell me where they came from."
Patches passed over the two objects and began to recount a certain robbery from not long ago.
"Their previous owner was a man who had fled the Royal Capital, Leyndell, long ago."
"He was born in the shadow of the Erdtree, blessed slightly more than most. That's why he'd managed to keep his mind this long."
"Thanks to that, I learned some things about the Capital from him."
Lucian nodded thoughtfully. Someone from Leyndell would indeed have had the chance to acquire such relics.
Patches continued:
"He once served the Cheheid Family, those responsible for dealing with newborn Omen babies. He made that Bairn himself."
"During the Shattering, the last time he discarded a hornless Omen child into the Capital's sewers…"
"…he heard two beastlike roars echo from below — one after the other."
"And alongside them… the sound of something being destroyed, piece by piece."
"He hid in a corner and saw two terrifying figures burst out from the sewers. From his description, I'm almost certain one of them was the Fell Omen itself."
"After that, he found that mysterious stone fragment and fled."
"In the chaos of the Shattering, he joined the masses escaping the Capital, and eventually hitched a ride down from the Plateau with Godrick's forces. Since then, he's wandered Limgrave."
Patches licked his lips. There was a wealth of hidden information behind that story.
When he'd first heard it, he'd been shocked — the supposedly eternal, abundant Capital harboring such cursed creatures. And not just one or two — enough that an entire family and profession existed solely to dispose of them.
And that the Fell Omen — the monster who bathed the battlefield in hero's blood during the Shattering — had once been imprisoned in the sewers beneath the Capital.
Normally, Omen babies had their horns removed before being cast away… but not the Fell Omen.
What kind of birth could grant such a privilege — to remain horned, to grow up whole — even while cursed?
Patches was clever enough to guess. But he dared not think too deeply.
The thought itself was far too… blasphemous.