Inktober VI: Husky

Quinn hefted the last of the cargo from the ship, balancing the enormous ornate chest on his shoulders as he walked down the gangway. His eyes swept the port until they met that of an older woman flanked by three brawny men. Though the woman was only concerned with the package, he saw the men stare at him in a mixture of disbelief, awe, and most definitely scorn. He kneeled before the lady and carefully unloaded the chest, extending it out towards her. Two of the guards took the handles at the side and hefted it up, wheezing and straining their muscles as they waddled towards an ornate carriage nearby.
The old woman approached Quinn, roughly eye level at his position, and gave a bubbly laugh. "My my, I wasn't aware they made men as large as you are! And so strong, to boot! Tell me, are you looking for work any time soon?"
Quinn stood back up, shaking his head. "No ma'am, I'm perfectly fine as is." He looked over her to the carriage and saw the third man had run over to help the pair, all three now attempting to heft the chest over the top of the cabin, their faces turning a bright red.
"Are you quite sure? As you can see, I could really use the help. I pay these men a good deal, but if you were able to pull your weight, I'd make it well worth your time. In money as well as..." she batted her lashes at him, unaware of several becoming stuck to the bottom of her eyebrow. "Other things."
"Good day, ma'am," Quinn said. He turned away from her and started back towards the ship, his job done. He ignored the gawking faces of several other women disembarking from the ship, the only thing on his mind being a cold drink in a quiet tavern. He wordlessly gathered his belongings from the ship's stores and made his way towards Flannigan's.
The smell of pine and sage hit Quinn as he scanned the age tavern. A weathered pair of men playing a game of cards near the stone hearth, a woman at a table captivated by a thick tome, and a well-groomed barkeep quietly polishing glasses at the empty bar. Quinn felt the odd trace of a smile pulling his facial muscles as he took a seat at the farthest stool in the back.
After several heavy, cold drinks with only the soft crackling of the fire or shuffling of paper to interrupt him, Quinn heard a soft creak as the front door opened. A figure stepped out from behind it, leaving only enough room between the door and wall to fit the width of his body through, and promptly swung it shut. He wore a charcoal suit with long coattails dancing behind him just above the ground. His equally dark hat had a wide brim and stood just high enough to nearly match Quinn's standing height.
The stranger took a look around before strolling to the bar and plopping himself down in the stool next to Quinn's. Without a word to the barkeep, he swiveled around to his neighbor. "Howdy there, good sir!" he said, his casual voice seeming to have the volume of a holler in the quiet space. "My name is R.K. von Brushmel, and I believe I have an exchange that will help out the both of us!" With a twinkle in his eyes he looked up to Quinn, who paid the stranger no mind and only continued to drain his glass.
R.K. continued. "You see, my career is going around this great big beautiful world and seeing what it has to offer. Not for my own personal collections like some of the old fuddy-duddies who simply hoard everything for themselves, quite the contrary! My goal is to find these rarities and showcase them for all the world to see! Picture it!" he said. Quinn suddenly felt the pressure of a rod against the bottom of his chin. He looked to R.K. and saw a cane now in the man's hand. He swept both across the interior of the tavern, the cane dragging Quinn's eyes along with him.
"Imagine hundreds upon hundreds of men, women, and children standing there now, having toiled all their lives and known only potatoes and poverty, and before them, they see it," he said in a breathless tone. Quinn waited for a moment before using two fingers to gently push the cane under his chin to the counter. "See what?"
"Well, that's just the magnificence of it, my big buddy! We get to find that out for ourselves! Together! The thing to enliven those huddled masses' lives is a mystery to us, and only we can solve it!" R.K. extended his hand. "So, what do you say?"
Quinn stared down at the man and turned his attention back to his ever-draining ale. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw R.K. rubbing his chin with a slight grin.
"Ah yes, I understand completely... trepidation. It is not so uncommon among my future employees, but that is what makes them all the better candidates! They know to think when an offer sounds all too good to them. But let me assure you that I am being one hundred percent genuine with you when I say that it will be an unforgettable, regrettable experience. Why, I'm sure that many will look at what we find in awe, and their lives will never be the same again."
R.K. squinted at Quinn, who seemed to have completely forgotten about his presence. He loosened a slight grin. "I'd pay it good mind, good sir, that I had never said that you were to be the spectacle on display." Quinn stopped drinking. R.K. continued, "I know you must surely suffer under hundreds of stares and questions a day, whether they're from potential suitors or charlatans wanting to parade you around as their toy or freak. But I am neither. I am only an honest individual who believes he can make the world a better place. Should you be willing to assist, of course."
Quinn sat in silence, looking straight ahead to the wall of drinks in front of him. After a moment, he motioned to the barkeep, then held up two fingers. The barkeep quickly filled two flagons and set them down before the pair. As R.K. took a sip, he heard a husky voice beside him. "No freak show?"
"The farthest thing from it, really," R.K. said, leaning precariously back on the stool. "You can be in front of the people as much or as little as you desire. The only thing you'd need to do is help me find these wonders and marvels. All else is simply... a cherry on top, as it were."
Quinn took a large swig and set his elbows on the bar, pressing his digits together. "What's the catch?"
R.K. chuckled. "Dear sir, I do not blame your astuteness, but what would I honestly have to gain from tricking you? My honest heart would split into two were I to lie or deceive." He removed his top hat, and showed his watering eyes to Quinn. "For instance, let us say, for instance, I am offering you a terrible deal that will exploit you severely." R.K.'s eyes widened as he clutched his chest and gave several sputtering breaths before falling off his stool and collapsing to the floor.
Quinn made the half-inch drop to the floor just as R.K. sprung straight back up, dusting off his coat before looking to Quinn with an open palm. "You see? Slain completely." He looked up to Quinn's glare. "But as a more serious answer, you'd be union." R.K. stuck out his hand and gave a full smile to Quinn. "So, what do you say, good sir?"
Quinn stared down at R.K., face giving away nothing even if it weren't shaded so far up. After a brief moment of silence, Quinn sighed and met R.K.'s, giving it a firm shake.
"It's not 'good sir,' just so we're clear. It's just Quinn."