Jim Fear

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Where in Hromagh's name did these come from?"

His face twisted up in annoyance, the demon lifted a pair of heavy plated gloves into the air in one hand, and a long bladed mythril dagger in the other. Every single piece of his arsenal was laid out across the long oaken table before him; and honestly, there were a few pieces he couldn't so much as recognizing. Scowling, he tossed the gloves up into the air gingerly, and they promptly delivered a painful jolt through his arm as they dropped back into his palm. He let out an irritated grunt as they thumped back to the table, all of the weapons vanishing. "It's about high time I cleared out my little collection here. There are some things I don't even use...and while I'm there, maybe make a few preparations."

Candlelight fell across a piece of printed parchment, advertising the reopening of the Dajas Pagoda in Scara Brae. The small room fell into darkness as he snuffed the candle with a swoop of his hand.
_____

The shop he'd settled on was simple, yet remarkable in it's cleanliness and order. His boots thumped heavily on the floorboards; most of his long, sharp ears were hidden under shaggy, blond dyed hair, and his bladed teeth were hidden behind pursed, scowling lips. Either hand was tacked beneath the swell of his bicep, crossed tightly over the breast of a neat, clean dark gray collared shirt. Such a tidy appearance was relatively new to him. It wasn't uncommon to see him swaggering about with bad posture and loping strides in worn ripped cloaks and smudged clothes. But, with an assumed identity, one couldn't appear as they once did.

"I'm afraid I've collected a little too much..." He grumbled to no one in particular, the shop keep not visibly present. Waving his hand over the counter; he presented the heavy arctic hide and titanium plated gloves, the stash of old iron throwing knives, the long plynt and nihon pike, and the glowing damascus broadsword. He'd realized why most of his arms went unused; he'd never liked polearms, the knives didn't do enough surface damage, and what the Bhidyate could not do, the broadsword surely would fail as well. With an after thought, he produced the long mythril dagger he'd held from earlier, and three rywan stakes, still bound with the twine he'd bought them in.

"I hope the service is a little better than the wait," he announced, rapping the counter loudly with his knuckles.

((Most of this stuff can be found in the link in my signature; what is not present there can be found here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=3251&page=2).))

[AdventWings]

The heavy footfall announced to Kieda that a customer had entered. Emerging from a small door to the side of the counter, the unmistakable form of a bipedal feline approached the clerk desk and immediately went to business.

"Ello, sir." The brown-coat Neko smiled, glancing curiously from the scowling visage of the demon to the wares laid out on the table. "Looking to sell some unwanted items, I see?"

It took only a few moments for the feline to realize many of these objects - the wooden stakes and glowing broadsword seemed to even had been bought a few doors away from here to begin with. The other assorted items would indeed fetch very good prices on the open market, if one knew how to capitalize on their value.

"Good wares, sir." Keida nodded knowingly as he admired the titanium gauntlets in the sunlight. "I will need a few moments to tally up the prices. One moment, sir."

Taking out a small quill pen and a large brown parchment from a drawer, the cat whipped through the tome of items and scratched down the prices in Feline Script. The shrewd need not tell the customers all they knew, right?

"Alright, sir." Looking up to meet the customer with a lazy expression on his face, the merchant declared his price. "I'll be willing to buy all these here items for... Three thousand Coronian gold pieces."

A fairly high price to pay. But with so much worth in them, it was a price the feline was willing to make.

((OOC Note: 3,000 GP in exchange for the following:

- Titanium-plated Arctic Hide Glove
- 24x Old Throwing Knives
- Plynt-Nihon Pike
- Fire-Enchanted Damascus Broadsword
- Mythril Dagger
- 3x Rywan Stakes

If there is anything missing, please contact me via PM))

[Slayer of the Rot]

For the greater majority of it, Dan had ignored the old cat as he talked. Instead, he turned his thoughts inward, perching his elbow in the palm of his hand, his hand in turn reaching to massage his temple. While he did indeed enjoy the glow of the sun as they glinted off sharp metal, he was going to have to start thinking practical. The Bhidyate, it filled the slot for a mid-range weapon that could deal incredible amounts of damage. His revolver forever asserted itself as his long range killer, and for a while, the knives had done well to do the same, without the pesky roar of gunfire. His combat knife was exceedingly useful if someone was lucky enough to get in beneath the Bhidyate. Logically, he didn't need anything save for a replacement for his throwing knives, but when was the last time he'd operated with logic inside of the bazaar.

"A sum of three thousand...I hope you're taking into account that a few of these items happen to be enchanted. The titanium gauntlets release a painfrul shock into anything organic you connect with them. The mythril dagger there, doubles any pain felt from a wound it causes. And the damascus broadsword...well, it's fairly obviously enchanted with the element of fire." Settling a hand on the counter, the criminal sighed, and looked about the shop again.

The walls were decorated mostly with an odd assortment of relics and artifacts. He could only assume that perhaps this merchant was the one to see, when you were looking for...the stranger objects of Althanas. "Would you happen to have anything that could perhaps be of interest to a person like me, feline?"

((I'd like to put that gold to good use, instead of buying a bunch of weapons I won't use again. I was thinking of something like a large, living shield that attaches itself to the user's arm. In the center is a mouth with large white teeth, which will eat and spit back low level magical and physical projectiles. If you can think of anything else to throw in, I'd really appreciate it, Raven.))

[AdventWings]

((Right... As we discussed on IM some time ago...))

"Hmm... Something of interest....?" The sluggish feline murmured, rummaging through the mess of drawers and tomes that was his memory. "...Yes, perhaps this may be it..."

The cat walked nimbly across the wooden floor, not a single pawstep sounding amidst the worn oak floorboards, and disappeared into the storage room. Shortly thereafter, he emerged with a large tower shield that seemed to nearly engulf his entire being - the merchant being a mere 5-half-feet tall did not help him much when it came to lugging items of such size around.

"Urf-!" With a grunt, he lifted the sizable shield and placed it on the well-worn counter and looked back at his customer.

"This..." The feline paused to catch his breath, feeling overworked simply from carrying the item for only a short distance. "...Should suit you well, sir. Shield of Vanguard, it was rumored to belong to a great sorcerror drom ages of old. Weak magical projectiles... Well, this thing'll will eat it right up an' spit it out like it was nothin'. Arrows an' bolts'll probably do the same thing, I reckon. Dunno what kinda material the shield's made of, though..."

The design itself was strange to the merchant. The silvery sheen of the edges told it was of some fine craftsmanship - silver, it was not. Neither was it Prevalida nor Titanium. For all he knew, it was simple steel of some sort. The mouth-like depression with its row of odd ivory teeth, however, did look menacing enough to not make the merchant careless.

"Consider that this is a specialty item, sir." The feline smiled, glancing up at the large customer who stood head and shoulder taller than he would ever be, "I'll let this go for... 3,000 gold pieces. That fine with you, sir?"

[Slayer of the Rot]

The criminals eyebrows arched in curiosity as the feline set the large shield down upon the counter, again ignoring most of what he said, save for the price. Thisd time, however, it was not a cause of ignorance, but one of wonderment...he felt drawn to the shield, somehow as he did to his own brother, despite the hatred shared between them. As though, they were somehow the same kind.

'Impossible. This thing is just a chunk of metal he thought,' the expression on his one of disgust, shown well in his scowl. His hand carefully touched the metal...and drew back. Strangely, it felt warm, and seemed to throb, as though...his scowl deepened. There was something very wrong with the item the merchant had brought him. His lips parted, his mind preparing the disdainful speech he gave to nearly everyone else, but they shut tight as a breath warmed the skin of his hand. His eyes flared wide as his gaze was drawn to the lipless teeth in the center of the shield.

'A breath? This thing is...alive?!' The metal around the teeth stretched, an impossible feat for any simple shield, and the mouth yawned wide. Demirci blinked, wondering if he had been drugged at one point or another -- and when he opened his eyes, barely a second later, the enormous shield was bound snugly about his arm. A thick band of metal had trapped his entire forearm top the back of it, and now, he could clearly feel the warmth of life in it.

And hear it.

The criminal stood rigid, silent and wide eyed as memories of it's birth of previous owners poured into his head. Two minutes passed as the living shield relayed it's "life" into him, and when it was finished, he shuddered, drawing in a deep breath. "Th-three thousand gold, correct? Just take the credit form the weapons I've sold you. I'll take this thing off your hands." The shield vanished then, carried away into the pocket dimension his other possessions called home.

"Well then, I've one last order of business in this bazaar. Do you know any good armories that sell imported chakram? I want the stuff from Fallien, none of the cheap Coronian knock-offs. I'd go straight to the source, but I'm afraid I lost my ability to teleport several years ago." Thje criminal realized suddenly, he was shaking with excitement, and with great strength, he suppressed it. "Or, for convenience's sake, maybe you'd happen to have some?"

[AdventWings]

"Well, then. I think that there's one store that specializes in those kinds of weapons, sir." The feline glanced at his customer lazily, clearly not at all surprised by the shield's strange affinity and reaction. And as if trained since birth, he pointed out the door and made a sweep with his finger towards his right.

"That would be... Weapons of the Outlanders o'er yonder... Shouldn't miss it, since it's the only place that still has firearms comin' in from Alerar..." He paused, taking in a deep yawn that could have split his mouth apart. "...Oh, yes. Sign out front has a sickle with a chain and an overlayin' gun. Can't miss that sign, 'specially not from here."

The merchant casually pocketed the payment before turning to the customer one last time, his eyes creaking just a tiny bit larger than it initially was.

"Seems the shield likes you, sir. Take care of him well."

And with a smile that could send chills down the spine of a grown man, Kieda disappeared into the back of his shop to resume his afternoon nap.

[Slayer of the Rot]

The feline merchant's words echoed strangely in his ears, the first time he'd actually cared to pay attention to the merchant's voice. Even as he stood, his eyes on the feline's back, moving with an agility that the criminal would have been able to guess, coupled with his age, he could feel the shield. It was tucked a world away, yet he could still feel it's presence...it's breath. It's pulse. As though it were a part of him, now.

The shop was silent, and several minutes passed. The soft snores of the feline drifted into the sales floor of the shop. It was the only sound present. Even the sound of his own breath was muted, drawn and locked in his lungs, frozen in place, standing as still as a statue. That sensation of breathe was gone, but as his pulse gradually began to slow, he could feel the second, in the space that would have been silent between his own, falling out of cadency.

'Is it some form of symbiote? No, it's nothing so simple.' He released a long exhale, and began breathing as normal again, finally moving to look out of the open shop door. Beyond was the sign and the other shop, just as the feline had indicated. Counting his money as he moved, he extended his reach into beyond reality, and a second later, he felt the warm, heavy iron of his revolver in hand. A holster had appeared on his hip as well, and he quickly set the gun within.

Weapons of The Outlanders had the exotic atmosphere you'd expect of it; Fallien incense burned in the air, the fine materials of Raiaeran woven rugs met the soles of his feet. Sunlight glared off the polished barrels of Alerarian firearms. A quick circle around the racks and cases set up found his first items; a dozen steel chakram, five inches in diameter each. Six had a clean, normal edge; and the other six were wickedly serrated. He stacked them on the counter as he reached it, picking up a nearby, marked bell, and rang it to summon the merchant.

[AdventWings]

With the fading chimes of the desk bell, a grumpy-looking old man appeared from a doorway with resounding explosions following in his wake. Only after the sturdy oak doors had closed did the gunfire subside, rendered to muted rumbles of thunder in a sunny sky.

"Yes, sir. How may I help you?" Jeff grunted and placed a pair of scissor katars down on the counter. Upon seeing the dozen chakrams stacked upon each other, he quickly ran his eyes through a small book and returned his gaze to the large customer.

"Six traditional chakrams and six serrated ones, I see. That'll be 60 gold pieces total, sir."

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Simple as simple can be," the criminal mumbled, fishing coins out of his wallet. After a moment's inspection, he put six on the counter and dropped the remainder back in, though didn't bother putting it away.

"I've something a little more complex, I'd like to ask for, now." He drew his revolver, and set it lightly down on the counter. The winking brass peeking out of the back of the chamber vanished. "I'd like a blade, of around two and a half feet long, to be attached to this firearm. You deal in imported and exotic weapons; it shouldn't be a problem. I want the blade to extend back along the barrel of the gun, and to curve down over the grip, to defend the hand. Then, I'd like it to continue down to the butt of the gun, terminating in a short double edged spike of sorts, around five inches long. I'll take whatever metal for that that I can get with four hundred gold."

[AdventWings]

Jeff looked down at the revolver with thoughtful eyes, scanning over the surfaces and noting the tiny nooks and crannies within. With a sigh, and hearing the gunfires from the range subsiding, he turned his head and breathed in deep.

"Lisa, you're needed out front." The merchant hollered, taking up the scissor katars and moving to the side. Moments later, a young blonde lady emerged from the side door. The maiden breathed a sigh and placed her shiny black .5 revolver on the counter, turning to look at her customer.

"Welcome, sir. What can I do for you?"

Jeff grunted, muttering quietly to retell what the large man had already said.

"Oh, I see. You need a blade attached to your gun? One moment, sir."

Lisa gently picked the revolver from the table, flipping out the chambers and making sure all of them are vacated, she let the weapon weigh in her hand while her left flipped out a piece of parchment and a quill. Fingers moving rapidly independent of her sight, the girl let the lines formed together into a strange blade design extending from the guntip to the handle - all of what the customer had previously asked for.

"Is this what you need, sir?" She asked, setting the drawn design on the counter. "If this is correct, I believe you will need to take this to a blacksmith. We deal in exotic weapons, that's correct. Mostly imports." She nodded apologetically.

The shop was not very good with custom-made weapons to begin with, anyway. While they had all the weapons known to the known worlds of Althanas, from firearms to chakrams and swords of a thousand blades, they could not create their own.

"You will need to go to the Akashiman for the custom fitting, sir." Lisa smiled apologetically, sliding the man's revolver back to him along with the skematics for the blade. "I believe the blacksmith can help you with the metal and pricing, sir."

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Yes, it is indeed correct," the criminal said as he gazed upon the drawing. Raising one hand, both the paper and the gun vanished, along with the holster that had been strapped to his thigh. "While I appreciate your effort, I've much to do today. This must be taken care of another day. I may be going to Alerar soon; best to get it at the source, hm?"

Reaching towards the counter, fingers splayed, he looked upon his chakram, and they vanished as well. "Ah, take care. After all, you never know what kind of rotten murderers you might be doing business with..." Giving her a wide, pointed smile, Demirci turned and vanished into the rushing crowd outside.

[AdventWings]

The gunslinger merchant raised an eyebrow at the statement, watching his departure in suspicion until the man disappeared out the door.

"Uncle Jeff, I don't like the look of this guy..." Lisa muttered long after the shady customer had left, the gunslinger going about cleaning the chambers of her twin revolvers with painstaking care. "I think he means trouble."

The old man nodded whilst oiling the blades of the scissor katars, strips of leather compressing the grips to keep the blades from closing onto his fingers.

"Aye, lass. But what can you do? He's a paying customer after all."

((Transaction Complete.

Slayer of the Rot loses the following items:

- Titanium-plated Arctic Hide Glove
- 24x Old Throwing Knives
- Plynt-Nihon Pike
- Fire-Enchanted Damascus Broadsword
- Mythril Dagger
- 3x Rywan Stakes
- 60 GP

And receives the following items:

- Shield of Vanguard (Details as discussed in the post. Physical strength equating that of Mythril, but no additional magical affinities other than already stated.)
- 6 Traditional Chakrams of Steel
- 6 Serrated Chakrams of Steel
- Design Plan for Bayonet Attachment
- 100 EXP for great IC interactions

Thank you for visiting. Please come again. :)))