Ulysses
02-25-10, 08:18 AM
Despite the vast assortment of colors, people from different lands, and exotic and exciting merchandise, the thing that struck Ulysses most about the Bazaar were the smells. Here, a delicatessen of foods from Fallien smelled spicy and with a hint almost of cinnamon. There, the fish-market district attracted him with its familiar odors (he had once been a fisherman, after all). And then it was on to some new smell, some new sight, some new strange and wonderful thing to see. He felt like a child who has suddenly been dumped in the most wonderful and curious sweet shop. Everything was new, everything was exciting.
He shook his head. He was here for a purpose, after all, not to just gawk like a tourist. Eventually he found the shop he was looking for—although he almost wished he hadn’t, just to give him an excuse to wander about a bit more.
The shop had no sign or name, but it was obvious enough what it was from the outside. A low, stone building with a shield over the door, and two crossed swords beneath it. The heraldry on the shield showed a hammer and anvil over a blue and red checkered background. Ulysses pushed the door open, and walked into the store.
The inside seemed deserted, except for rows and rows of metal. The shop supplied the needs of warriors from all sorts—he’d heard about it from a man in a local tavern. There were suits of armor of every variety, not to mention the weapons. Anything could be found here: swords, maces, axes, hammers…even more bizarre weapons, like flails and tridents.
The gold pouch on Ulysses’ belt jingled. He had a bit of extra gold, and it would probably be smart to spend it on equipment. Trinkets and fine food might be fun and entertaining, but a new piece of armor could save your life.
He looked around for a bit but didn’t see what he was looking for. The place hardly seemed organized; probably only the shopkeeper knew where everything was. Hesitant to ask for help, but trying to sound like a confident and experienced warrior, Ulysses went up to the shopkeeper and asked.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m, um, looking for an oak shield? Perhaps a wooden buckler? I don’t know if you would have anything like that. I’d like a new sword too, probably an iron one, unless I could afford steel.”
Ulysses rubbed the hilt the sword of his hip, a nervous tic he’d picked up. “Not sure how much any of that would cost, really,” he admitted. He felt stupid. Probably not many adventurers could tell you the market price of trout but not the cost of a new sword.
He shook his head. He was here for a purpose, after all, not to just gawk like a tourist. Eventually he found the shop he was looking for—although he almost wished he hadn’t, just to give him an excuse to wander about a bit more.
The shop had no sign or name, but it was obvious enough what it was from the outside. A low, stone building with a shield over the door, and two crossed swords beneath it. The heraldry on the shield showed a hammer and anvil over a blue and red checkered background. Ulysses pushed the door open, and walked into the store.
The inside seemed deserted, except for rows and rows of metal. The shop supplied the needs of warriors from all sorts—he’d heard about it from a man in a local tavern. There were suits of armor of every variety, not to mention the weapons. Anything could be found here: swords, maces, axes, hammers…even more bizarre weapons, like flails and tridents.
The gold pouch on Ulysses’ belt jingled. He had a bit of extra gold, and it would probably be smart to spend it on equipment. Trinkets and fine food might be fun and entertaining, but a new piece of armor could save your life.
He looked around for a bit but didn’t see what he was looking for. The place hardly seemed organized; probably only the shopkeeper knew where everything was. Hesitant to ask for help, but trying to sound like a confident and experienced warrior, Ulysses went up to the shopkeeper and asked.
“Hello,” he said. “I’m, um, looking for an oak shield? Perhaps a wooden buckler? I don’t know if you would have anything like that. I’d like a new sword too, probably an iron one, unless I could afford steel.”
Ulysses rubbed the hilt the sword of his hip, a nervous tic he’d picked up. “Not sure how much any of that would cost, really,” he admitted. He felt stupid. Probably not many adventurers could tell you the market price of trout but not the cost of a new sword.