Veronica
Prince Nickles
Northwind

"Rodrigo, *Rodrigo*— stand down!" Nickles called. The rat stepped back two paces. Nickles came back up the stairs, approaching cautiously. "You couldn't take your punishment like a man? Hm?" He said, crossing his spindly arms and sneering at Arin. "*Shouters* Do not survive long around these parts."

Rodrigo stomped his four feet vigorously on the wooden floor. His tip-tapping echoed through the halls; a song of blood and terror. Nickles raised his hand and Rodrigo ceased. 

"You see? Do you see what you're dealing with?" Nickles hissed. He reached up and snatched the gold necklace from Arin. "This will pay for a single portrait. The small nude." He pocketed the necklace and motioned for Rodrigo to fetch the painting.
Carol
Arin Cragton
Northwind

"Nude?" Arin asked, before the rat somehow dragged a small portrait from the corner of the room. "How.. What.. How did you get me to pose nude? Can I get a straight answer around here?" Arin asked, shaking his head. The portrait was nice. It looked like Arin, with shorter hair and cleaner nails, but it still looked like him. 

"I just realized I never got your name. However, I have more pressing issues on my mind. What is it exactly that I want? You say you know but I have heard nothing. But who cares. It isn't important." Arin said, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.
Veronica
Prince Nickles
Northwind

"You did so willingly, I assure you. See, your eyes are open," Nickles said, pointing to the exaggerated bug eyes that the portrait version of Arin possessed. "My name is Cardwell Constantina De Busediri. And let me tell you, Cardwell Constantina De Busediri knows your heart's desires. I have had close relations with your soul and it revealed to me the purpose of your entire existence. Do you even know what you want, Arin Cragton? You don't even know who you are. Not truly. You don't know what you've done." 

Rodrigo snickered.
Carol
Arin Cragton
Northwind

Arin took a closer look. He paused like he was going to say something but didn't. "I know what I am today. In this moment. I know what I have done for the good of all, and the bad. I do not know, however, why any of this matters. This whole soul business. Why should there be a purpose to my existence, Cardwell? Why is there a need. Why can I not just exist, be alive for the sole purpose of living? Why must there be a higher meaning to it all?" Arin asked softly, staring at the painting. Every second he stared at it, it seemed more and more realistic. The hands and feet seemed to twitch slightly, the skin seemed almost, living. He blinked and the image went away. 

"You said your name was... Cardwell.. Right? I'm sorry about that. I lost track of time there for a moment." Arin said, his mind clearing up slightly. "I love this painting though." He said, being nice.