Looking for a Good Read

[Flames of Hyperion]

The marketplace of Scara Brae - Ingwe preferred to think of it as a marketplace, rather than a bazaar; to him the word "bazaar" conjured up images of sand and sun, and right now it was raining a cold wet drizzle - was a melting pot of people and items of all descriptions. Welcome to Scara Brae Fair! proclaimed the large sweeping banners set over the entrances to the marketground, as they lured in the greedy, the rich, and the unwary. The cobblestones were soaked and grey, the clouds overhead downright overwhelming as they sought to blanket the city, but nothing could dampen the spirits of the shoppers and the enthusiasm of the shopkeepers within the stone-walled quadrangle.

Of course, nothing could quite drown out the raucous music in the background, either. Or smother the unique aroma of blackpowder, charred wood, molten metal, random exotic materials, and the general stench of massed humanity.

But that was all par for the course, was it not?

His dark blue cloak and white tunic may as well have been lost in the swirl of soaked colourless clothes as he half-forced, half-pleaded his way through the crowds. He wasn't exactly the distinctive figure, although his jet-black hair may have been a tad more noticable on a brighter day, but he certainly did stand out from the average citizen in that he was practically the only person actively making way for everybody else.

Past the stalls of weapons he walked, past the shops for leatherware and armour, peering inside with some semblance of interest but never slowing his pace. For it was neither sword nor shield that he sought today, but instead something of a rather more... intellectual nature.

Yes, he sought a book. Or two.

He just hoped that there was a good seller in town.

[Slayer of the Rot]

"This sucks."

The skinny form of Cyril Lagarius was nearly hidden behind the hastily built wooden plank counter of his booth. The long blond haired merchant was hunched over himself, hair hanging toward the ground, trailing from the upturned hood of his jacket. Smoke was pouring up from the sides of his face, from the cigarette in his mouth, but when he took the chance to look up, a hissing sizzle let him now he was done with his smoke. Growling in the back of his throat, Cyril snatched the cigarette and crushed it in his hand before tossing it to the ground.

"I hate Scara Brae. It's cold and wet, and the rain keeps putting my cigarettes out."

His assistant, the animate burlap sack with coin eyes named Bagley, waddled a little farther out from under the shelter that the counter was so dismally providing. "Ooh, so you can't smoke huh, ya crybaby? Well, if I stay out here any longer, I'm gonna mildew and rot apart!"

"Shut it, tool," Cyril growled. He'd gotten maybe three customers today and it wasn't the rain's fault. People were more drawn to the better known merchants than Cyril and his junky pieced together stand. He was becoming desperate and irritated, so when a young man with copper streaked black hair came near, the merchant leaped to his feet, then hopped off the spongy, wet ground onto his creaky counter.

"Hey, you! Guy! What're you looking for?! I got a little bit of everything. And I do mean everything."

[Flames of Hyperion]

A little bit of everything...

Well, it wasn't as if he'd had much success finding a bookshop as of yet, and trying to slide his way through the crowds was indeed getting a little tiresome. Glad for the excuse, Ingwe slipped out of the stream of market-goers and managed (with a little skill, and a lot of luck) to end up just about where he wanted to be. The stall wasn't exactly the best constructed - the counter-top was slightly rickety, and the head-board askew - but thankfully he had long ago given up any pretense of judging based on appearance alone.

"Good morning," he began, inclining his head in polite greeting. "If I may, I'm looking for some books... a detailed map of the region, both islands and continent... maybe a couple of tomes relating to history and customs... a traveller's guide, perhaps, if you stock such things."

He paused for an instant, and then explained with a slightly sheepish grin, "I'm new to this part of the world, and looking to adjust myself quickly. There's nothing quite as rude as a cultural faux pas, is there..."

Another pause as a second thought struck him, and his eyes did a quick and subtle sweep of the vicinity. Was it just him, or did the booth not stock any items at all?

And was it just him, or did that burlap sack on the counter just move?

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Believe me friend, there's worse to worry about than a cultural faux pas. Like getting eaten by the walking dead or some crazy three headed wolf. Or something." Cyril grinned crookedly down at the customer, but decided it was best to get back down onto the muddy ground when his rickety stand began to groan and protest the new stress he was giving it.

"Just some books then, eh?" The merchant bent and dumped the bag onto the shoddy countertop, still grinning. At some point, a new cigarette had found his lips, and before he said anything, he crammed his hand into the bag, which shuddered and mumbled a great deal. From it, he drew an umbrella, which he hooked to his head-board, affording him a bit of relief, at least from the rain. With the spark of a palmed match, he lit the cigarette and turned his attention back to Ingwe.

"What'd you say? A good map of the island and continents, something on history and customs, and a traveller's guide, yes? Bagley, gimme the Scara Brae Map, Moderne Valeena Edition, Alexander Knighton's Growth and Way of a Nation, Scara Brae Edition, and Codrig Ludwig's Places to Peruse and Visit, Scara Brae Edition."

The burlap sack pushed itself up, it's gold coin eyes full of scorn, and sighed as it's middle began to swell and pulsate. "Ya owe me two bottles of rum when we get back. Two! And the lady in red velvet. Eh heh heh he - " Bagley's sordid laughter was cut off as his ragged mouth stretched open and out came all three off the books, bound with a buckled leather strap for easy carrying.

"Easy stuff to find around here, since Scara Braens are so patriotic, but with the influx of visitors for the fair, they've been flying off the shelves. The tourists gobble this stuff up. Some people collect, but they're the type with hard jobs that can only afford a vacation once every few years. Anyway, that'll be fifty crowns for that little wealth of information. Ya need anything else?"

[Flames of Hyperion]

Ingwe chuckled politely at the merchant's point, but didn't belabour it. To each his own, he knew, and personally he felt that he'd rather face down a horde of zombies than unknowingly commit a rude offence. Whatever reply he was going to make, however, was lost in the next few moments as...

... he just pulled an umbrella out of that burlap sack.

Eyes widened silently and in wonder as he considered the source of the magic... an interdimensional warp-pocket, perhaps, or a mass storage spell? Maybe even a more powerful cousin to the simple enchantment that kept his personal tome supplied with blank pages to write on. In any case, as always happened when he stumbled upon something new and exciting, Ingwe couldn't quite conceal his curiosity.

Not to mention that it must be very useful to...

It talked.

Not only did it store an entire inventory within it, not only did it move... but it also talked. And, judging by the innuendo behind the words, did much else besides... although Ingwe wouldn't quite catch on to that until much later, and even then would put it promptly out of his mind. There were some things to which even his curiosity did not extend, and indeed, were probably best left alone.

Somehow he managed to gather his wits, to stop himself from staring at "Bagley" and respond instead with a courteous half-bow.

Seeking permission from the blonde trader first, Ingwe unbuckled the leather strap and quickly skimmed through the tomes. The book on history and customs was concise but comprehensive, and with Scara Brae being such a culturally diverse nation, he had no doubt that it would cover all that he needed to know. He could always pick up anything else on the fly. The traveller's guide would suffice for now; he could always pick up another when he moved on.

The map, however...

"Many apologies," Ingwe addressed both the man and his bag this time, inclining his head slightly and indicating the map of Scara Brae. "I was wondering if you had anything that covered the northern continent in depth, including Raiaera, Salvar, Alerar, Corone... something that would be of use to an adventurer and a traveller, perhaps?"

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Huh? Oh, yeah, no problem. Gimme a second to think, though..." Cyril pursed his lips, holding his cigarette before his face as he stared out to the crowd. After a moment or two, he put the thing in his mouth and clapped his hands.

"Yeah, got exactly what you need. Hey, sack, spit out Arkakroth's Cross Continent Travel Journal & People I'd Like to Bludgeon. Err, Arkakroth was a barbarian from one of the northern Salvar tribes, up wher the snows give way to cold blue water. He spent a great deal of his life travelling, and chronicled it in a book. The scholar clique shunned him, but he was a great deal more intelligent than a lot of them. Well, except when it came to bludgeoning." Cyril trailed off and stared out towards the sky, frowning. He seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, as though he was remembering something distant.

"Arkakroth loved bludgeoning.

"Anyway! The man drew detailed maps of Raiaera, Salvar, Alerar and Corone, and wrote down a number of customs, holidays observed in each continents, places he liked to eat at, and uhhh...people he liked to bludgeon. There's even a few chapters with drawings and information on the floura and fauna." Bagley doubled over and vomited out an enormous leather bound tome, it's pages bone white. Cyril scowled, staring down at the huge book. The familiar seemed to read his mind, and spat out next a carrying sack.

"I'm afraid with how detailed and big the book is, I'll have to charge you a total of fifty crowns for it. But the sack is free." The merchant stuffed the book inside, and then reached over and pushed the others in as well.

"Your total right now is exactly a hunnert crowns. Anything else?"

[Flames of Hyperion]

Aha!

Ingwe's eyes positively sparkled as Bagley produced the massive tome. To the abyss with its size, you could almost hear him think, this was going to be a read!

"Thank you," he bowed, this time holding the courtesy appreciatively; his gratitude was directed to both the merchant who had divined his exact need and the bag who had coughed up the sack to go along with it. "This is precisely what I require."

He'd have to work to filter out the bias, mind, but as a scholar of many trades and a little experience he considered himself to be up to the challenge. Ingwe had no doubt that the book would be his new fireside companion, whether on the road or at an inn, for many nights to come. And in comparison to the knowledge that could be gleaned... well, the warrior-mage thought fifty crowns to be a price more than fair.

Reaching into the folds of his cloak, Ingwe extracted from his travel pouch a small money-bag made of exquisitely-threaded silk. Carefully, but not parsimoniously, he counted out the equivalent of a hundred crowns in gold pieces and set them upon the counter top. He waited politely until the trader had confirmed the amount, and then with another grateful nod he gathered the sack of books into his arms.

"May the winds be favourable and your trade prosperous," he bid the pair, reciting a polite farewell from his homelands.

Turning to be swept away by the steady stream of marketgoers, it was not long before he was once again just a speck amongst the crowd. But even the constant mistlike drizzle did little to dampen his rising spirits... and was that the sun peeking out at last from beyond the low-lying clouds? A white feathered shape soared down from the skies to settle onto the scholar's shoulder, and then Ingwe was truly gone, walking once more the streets of Scara Brae.

[Slayer of the Rot]

((Flames of Hyperion gains the following:
-Scara Brae Map, Moderne Valeena Edition
-Alexander Knighton's Growth and Way of a Nation, Scara Brae Edition
-Codrig Ludwig's Places to Peruse and Visit, Scara Brae Edition
-Arkakroth's Cross Continent Travel Journal & People I'd Like to Bludgeon
-One free leather carrying case for the books
-150 exp for excellent writing

He loses the following:
-100 gp))