Glyndallagan ' s Confession Content . My name is Glyndallagan , and this is my confession . I should begin at the beginning — as if there were such a thing . I came to the city as a mage of modest means . Nothing but holes in my pockets , and a rattling cart full of knickknacks . I suppose you could consider me a con - man . My game was simple : lure affluent , small - minded people to my cart and make a wager . " I bet you — " I said , " I bet you I can turn whatever you have in your pocket into an apple . " Of course it wasn ' t always apples . It could be a thimble , or a button , or an old shoe . Inevitably , they would bite and take up the bet . I would cast a simple translocative spell , whisking their item into my cart , and replacing it with whatever garbage I had managed to gather up the day before . Such a transfer is child ' s - play when compared to an actual transmutation . Thus , my gain was two - fold : I acquired whatever item they happened to be carrying around , as well as the balance of the wager . This earned me a decent living for a while . Until I ran into the Rattle - Man . He was tall , certainly — and very , very thin . And when he walked , his coin - purse made an unnerving clatter . A rattling of what sounded like bone on bone . I didn ' t have to flag him down , or lay out my pitch . He simply reached into his pocket and produced a handful of random objects . Teeth , bone chips , glowing shards … . His silence was unsettling , and the items were so random and macabre I could barely keep my composure . But I was greedy then . Greedy , and foolish . He eventually spoke in a low , rasping voice , " Shall we make a wager ? " " Of course ! " I said . " Eight drakes for eight trinkets ! " " Make it fifty drakes if you succeed . And if you fail … . " he replied . A fifty drake wager ! It took me a moment to process this . I had never even considered the results of a failure . " Well , if I fail , I suppose I ' ll owe you fifty drakes . " This seemed to rub him the wrong way . He put the items in his pocket and turned to leave . Even now , I will wake from a dead sleep , gasping over the horror of this moment . Reliving it in my mind , over and over . If I had just let him walk away . If I had been distracted by another mark , or taken my lunch early , all of this might have been avoided . But as I said , I was greedy and foolish . I shouted over his shoulder , " What would you have instead , sir ? " He turned on his heel and smiled . At least I think it was a smile . I don ' t remember his face , you see ? No one ever remembers his face . He spoke in a whisper , " I only want a vow that you ' ll return the items to me when the trick is done . " He knew my game . No corner - cob hustler would weave a transmutation spell for five drakes . He knew I just took the items into my cart via a translocation cantrip . So why worry ? I would simply reach into my cart and hand him the items after the spell was cast . There was a fear in the pit of my stomach , but I took his clammy , pale hand in mine and shook on it . " You have my vow , " I said . And with those four words , my fate was sealed . I cast the translocation spell as normal . There was a brilliant flash of light , and a puff of colorful smoke . All according to plan . And just as I expected , his handful of terrifying trinkets had been " transformed " into a handful of buttons , bent silverware , and scraps of shoe leather . " Excellent . " he rasped . " Now , if I could have my items back , we can conclude our wager . " I was elated . Fifty drakes ! Fifty drakes for a small - time hustle . I was practically dancing when I opened the cart . But something was wrong . All my items were gone . Everything . I searched everywhere — my pockets , inside the cart , the street beneath . Nothing . " It appears that you have failed , " he said . And thus began my endless service to the Rattle - Man . I will search for his missing items for the rest of my days . My life is a curse . My nights are filled with bad dreams , my days with waking terrors . My bones strain and creak . My hair grows thinner and paler by the day . All for a handful of bone scraps and teeth . So , I make this compact with you , dear reader . Bring me your frightful trinkets — your bone scraps and bloody claws . Bring them to my trophy vaults , and I will grant you riches beyond imagining . Do not trouble yourself with thoughts of where these riches came from . I have had to become very … resourceful . Scruples are a luxury that the cursed cannot afford . No , only the trinkets matter . Perhaps one day I will find all of the Rattle - Man ' s trinkets . And on that day , I will kill myself and leave this accursed world behind .