“No”

You stand behind the counter, tense. “No.” That's what comes out.

The leader sighs like a disappointed father.

“Wrong answer.”

He gives a small nod. The short, scarred thug immediately grabs a shelf and yanks it forward. Glass bottles and crystals smash onto the floor in a loud crash. The tall, silent one sweeps his arm across another display, knocking over lanterns and other merchandise. The leader just sighs and watches it all unfold.

“You see,” he says, tilting his head back. “this is what happens when you don’t pay.”

The short thug laughs as he kicks over a whole rack of potion vials, sending colourful liquids spilling across the floor. Another shelf is torn down, potions and trinkets tainted and dirtied.

The leader leans on the counter, completely relaxed amid the destruction.

“Thirty Lentimes. Next week.” He looks around at the shattered mess, then gives you a cold smile. “Have a safe week, Miss Yera.” As he turns around, he shoots you one last look. “Come see us on Main Street. We'll work something out there if you really can't pay.”

The three men turn and walk out, leaving your shop in ruins. Spilled potions, and merchandise everywhere. It'll take a good chunk of money to recoup the things lost. But you stood your ground. And that's what matters... right?