A New Pair of Gloves

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul walked into the Bazaar, for the first time in what felt like years. He could see that not much had changed in the time he had been gone. Shops still lined the street, some reputable, others known for deals that were technically illegal. Some apothecaries carried lethal poisons that had been outlawed years ago by the nobles, but usually kept them in their component parts until someone with a recommendation would walk in and ask for it to be made, or someone with knowledge of herbalism and poison making simply bought the legal ingredients to create the poisons themselves.

He walked through the myriad street vendors and into the nearest clothing store he could find, a leather worker's shop. He had learned from a previous lesson handling his own magical weapons that he would require some kind of defense against his own magic, at least until he could master his magic to the point of having an elemental resistance.

He browsed the shop for quite some time, but was unable to find anything that suited his needs and interests. Sighing, he began to turn to leave when he noticed something behind him, a light thrumming of energy. He turned his attention to the source of the sound, and ceased to hear it. Sitting on the shelf directly in front of him was a pair of white leather gloves. He touched them lightly and could feel the magic running through them.

"I wonder if these are the items I've been looking for," he muttered to himself. He grabbed the gloves and walked up to the counter.

"Excuse me," he said, not seeing anyone at the counter. "Are these gloves resistant to elemental magics?"

[Lye]

"Perhaps?" replied a voice from a doorway draped in fine cloth.

From behind it emerged a man with skin as leathery as his wares. Dark and tattered with scars likely from combat with the creatures he turned to merchandise, the skinner summed up his customer with piercing grey eyes. In his hands, he cleaned a bloodied blade with a cloth stained in red both new and old.

"Those, from a mountain troll in Slavar. Albino, hence the white finish. Wanted for stealing children away in the night. Took the better part of a season to track him back to his den. Poor children, couldn't tell how many of them he ate. Meat, bones, and all, but I wasn't 'bout to prod his excrement for an exact number. Left that to lawmen."

The skinner approached his counter, paying more attention to the story and blade in his clutches than the boy opposing him.

"The short answer is yes. The beast lived in the harshest of Skavian elements. The gear made from his skin can take the edge off most mana formed elemancy. Are you interested?" he asked, placing the knife against the table with his rugged hand firmly atop it.

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul looked at the man in front of him with a curious expression. The man regarded his own tool more often than he did his own customer, but as the story continued, Rehtul wasn’t sure whether this was a gimmick to up the desirability of the item or not. The man didn’t seem to care whether he really sold anything or not. He seemed more inclined toward the leather making portion of his job, skinning and tanning the animals that he killed.

At least, that’s what Rehtul figured from looking at the bloodstained knife sitting in front of him, with the older man’s hand resting upon it in a semi-threatening manner.

“Am I interested?” Rehtul considered the question carefully, or at least pretended to before patting his coin purse with a smile.

“I practice elemental magics, and something that can prevent me from getting frozen, burned, or electrocuted every time I try to wield my own spells in my hands would be most appreciated,” he said, not bothering to hide the reason he needed such things for himself.

“So, how much will it take to walk out of here with them today?” he asked simply.

[Lye]

"Four hundred for the pair," the skinner spoke firmly.

As he let his client mull over the price, he lifted the knife from the counter and began to examine its edge. His keen eyes search for knicks, hangs, or any other sign which would require honing. With a silent smirk, he found none and shot a confident glance to his craftsmanship in the boy's hands.

"What'll it be, lad?"

[Rehtul Orlouge]

Rehtul thought for a moment as he viewed the gloves in question with an disinterested expression.

"You've got a deal," he said as he counted out the money from his pouch, laying it down reverently before picking up the gloves.

"I look forward to doing business with you again," he said as he walked toward the door, stripping off his normal leather gloves and putting on his new pair. He opened the door and shut it behind him, journeying back out into the Bazaar with a smile on his face. He'd gotten a good deal, and now would be able to wield his magically crafted weapons with impunity.

[Lye]

The skinner scooped the gold from the counter and poured it into his strongbox below. When he looked up, the boy was gone.

"To be that youthful again," he mumbled as the door swung shut.

"Jomil! It's trying to get out of its cage again!" shouted a feminine voice from the darkness of the doorway.

The skinner smiled, lightly tossing and catching the knife in his leathery hands.

"Coming~"


Transaction complete. Rehtul pays 400 GP for a pair of Arctic Beast Leather Gloves, white, and enchanted to resist a majority of elemental energies for standard duration of handling. (Up to an hour straight.) Gloves cannot block or neutralize hostile spells, but may be used as a means to deflect or resist damages.

[Lye]

GP Removed