"Care to explain that a bit more please?"
"Simple dear. I take the first forty years of your life. Birth to now and beyond. Don't worry, once you hit 41 you should pop right back into the timestream nice and fine, any wear and tear minimal. And as I said, when you get back in a few years those toxins will be right beside you."
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"Yea, we're looking for something for a special hag in our life. Bad memories, fears, nightmares, that sort of thing."
Well, I do have just the thing then! And I think we can do each other a favor on this occasion. It just so happens that I am in the market myself for a breath of magic — an arcane whisper if you will. A simple jot of mysticism, be it from the gods, from a book, or from the very depths of one’s core, will do the trick! For such a trifle, I would gladly trade you a small trinket from my stockpile.
Taking his large hat into his hand, Mr. Null steps back to his wagon and produces a twisted apparatus of brass and rubber the general size and shape of a sheep’s stomach. Pointing at one end, which is shaped like the mouthpiece of a musical instrument, he continues. Just a smidgen of spellcraft blown into here is all I need.
"Pfft! Why do I even deal with mortals?" the creature mutters exasperatedly to herself as Dailung wanders off.
As Liam makes motion to begin casting, Mr. Null speaks up. Uh uh uh. The machine is a bit sensitive, and requires a direct approach. Just place your mouth on the end and blow. Normal air is fine: the machine will pick up a wisp of might on its own!
As Liam moves around the machine, the astomi's voice echoes in Torean's head evan as he remains facing away. Well, hags tend towards the macabre don't they? I've got a despairing illustration back here that should tickle the lady's fancy. Perhaps all the more so if you and she are on good terms! Torean detects a tone of mirth at this last comment.
Liam places his lips against Mr. Null's contraption and exhales. Immeadiately he feels a tingling sensation in his blood as through the translucent tube he sees a lightly sparking tendril of air flow from his throat into the device. A bulb at the opposite end of the machine begins to inflate.
However, even as Mr. Null claps his hands together staring at the bulb, Liam feels a lingering tugging sensation, as the vacuum of the tub threatens to suck out one last gasp of arcana.
Wonderful, wonderful! Mr. Null says. With a flourish he retrieves a large, rolled up canvas from the folds of his flowing coat and holds it out towards Liam. I do much appreciate your assistance today. And as such, take this with my compliments. May it aid you in your further dealings!
As the bulb fully inflates Liam finally rips his mouth free from the contraption.
Delightful. How was the suction? It appeared a bit strong there - something to be adjusted moving forward. But, such is progress! In either case, this is well deserved!
At Liam's feet lay a man and a woman. The man's throat is slit, his blood slowly spilling out to stone the stone floor. The woman appears horribly burnt, her dress flash-fired and her mouth agape in horror. As Liam gazes down on them, his eyes are dull and light-less.
It's a wonderful confluence of events that brought us together today isn't it? Normally a man is much more keen to acquire a happy memory instead of a lowest nadir, but I am sure that will be just to sort of despair any hag may enjoy.
Hopefully indeed. Feel free to return at another Bazaar. It was an absolute pleasure dealing with you! Mr. Null's words echo in your head as he dips his hat low is proffered gratitude.
As you walk past the crowd and approach the outsider's tables of stones, the trio of turn towards one another, staring (you think; it's hard to tell with no eyes) at each other for a moment before one of them turns backs at steps forward. It's split jaws slide open, and a slow thing string of saliva begins to drip out.
After a moment you hear a voice in your head, flat and emotionless.
We are the caulborn. Each of these stones you see before you is a piece of calcified emotion separated from the pure fact of the memories gleaned from ones such like yourself. Do you wish to purchase one?
The forward most caulborn shuffles and turns his back towards you to face his two compatriots. They stand silent.
Then the first caulborn spins once more, mouth still agape and drooling as flat words return in Vad and the others' heads.
We do not know this Aslynn. Our advice is futile without more information. The stones contain calcified emotion. If you want a moment of joy, it is there. If you want a moment of pettiness, it is there. If you want a moment of anxiety, it is there. All are the same. All have value.
We have no need for physical goods, but memories are hold interest. In exchange for any stone, we would take a collection of recollections from one of you. Memories and learning posses certain things for us. Your word for them is flavors.
We understand this process may result in temporary loss of finer skills and clouded memories of lessons and experiences. This is not permanent. It will fade.
Are the terms acceptable?
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"Anxiety will do- -unless you have more potent emotions- -fright, contempt, despair?"
Vad looks to his compatriots for approval.
"And am I taking this one for the team? Anyone else have memories they want to part with?"
I know Shaine was pretty tore up- -looks like he's not the only one making sacrifices to get Zey back.
The lead caulborn advances towards Torean, arms outstretched.taking the dwarf's head in its long-fingered hands, the creature presses its bulbous head against the inquisitor's skull. Torean's body feels nothing but his mind is filled with fleeting memories of his training in Torag's church. Just as easily as they appear, they are gone, and try as he might, the dwarf has difficulty recalling the exact details of what was just as clear as day.
An audible sigh is let out from the mouths of all three caulborns - the first noise you have heard any of them let out. As the representative pulls back his hands from Torean, he takes two steps towards the trio's table of rocks and with a slow motion points to a lumpy hunk of pumice.
This is the distilled envy felt by a minor lord while watching his bitter rival earn the position that should have been his. Would that suit your need?
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Torean stumbles back grabbing hold of a nearby table to steady himself. Whoa, that was worse than Garvid's moonshine ale!" He blinks several times as his vision grows blurry and then sharpens again. The dwarf slowly makes his way to the stone the Caulborn indicates.
"Yeah, I think this will do. Hopefully it suits her." He glance back at the others, still slightly disoriented. "Ok, where to next?"
Making your way through the market towards the phase spider's web, you hear her before she comes into view again, speaking quickly to a pair of undines in Aklo. The elemental-blooded duo walk away shaking their heads just as you come into view, and Beleth's blond hairs spins as she quickly turns to face you.
"You! Yes, you! Maybe you can help. Come here, come here!"
She waves you closer with on of her front legs.
“Ah. I knew you were kind people. I could see it in your faces. My name is Beleth. See her?" The phase spider extends another spindly leg towards the Xill across the way. "That is Kysh. She has a book that I wish to be mine. Though I have many fine items to trade, she will not deal with me due to the unfortunate — let’s call it history — between our two races.”
“Normally, I would be loath to even speak with one of her kind, but the book she holds is a great treasure, and this place,” Beleth waves a pair of legs around in a gesture toward the entire Bazaar, “is a place of business, yes?”
"If you can get Kysh to understand this and to trade with Beleth, I would be in debt to you. There would be a reward of course too."
Beleth lowers her two front legs and looks at you with a slight smile
The phase spider clasps her front hands together. "Very good! I wish you luck, for both of us!"
The Xill eyes Dailung and the group warily, glancing down at the weapons at their belt before she speaks. "The type wonders that your enemies would wish you hadn't sprung for. I have blades to pierce defenses, armor to guard your flank, crystals to make sure the fog of war blinds only your foes. You appear equipped well enough, with pedestrian supplies at least. Are you here for yourselves or your group: an individual restock or a bulk pruchase on behalf of the commissary?"
Looking at the tables beside her, you do indeed see a blistering array of weaponry and armor, as well as several whose titles (in Terran and Aklo) mark them as works of military history. Several of the texts are large folios as big as Dailung's arm.
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Looking at the wares Dailung is very much intrigued, but in the end... she asks the Xill for something else.
"I guess you are a businesswoman of means and skill. You specialise in treatese of military history. Now tell me, do you know that even the worst enemys have known to trade in war, for gossip, a new dagger in between battles. Heck even shared a flask of wine or two. Now I understand that there is something like a war going on between your magnificent kind and those lowly spiderthings. But this is neutral ground. Here you have the great chance, and responsibility to sell and buy from your sworn enemys even if you would attack them on sight somewhere else. Now, you might think I am foolish, but if that spiderthingy wants something from you, you can... dictate the price. And really make her bleed. Financially speaking."
The xill frowns deeply at Dailung's words. "Harumph. So, your merely reconnaissance for the enemy then. Reinforcements for her games. I've no doubt even the most harmless request from her is just a feint that my people would come to regret down the line."
She starts to turn away but pauses, then looks back at Dailung with a wry grin. "Although, you may have a point. Knowing a trap is there lets you spring it at the time of your choosing. And if they want a future weapon, then so can I."
"The thing has a pair of short swords hidden out of sight. The ones with the amoral auras. If she wants that book so badly, she can buy it in blades."
Beleth waves her front arms in excitement as Dailung approaches and speaks of a trade, only to have her smile wilt as the woman describes the terms.
"Well, wellwellwell. Business is one thing, but I should have known a xill would not change its color. She wants the weapons? I have them, but what does she want them for? To be used killing people almost certainly. Innocent people, probably phase spiders. Hmmmm"
The phase spider climbs onto her large gauzy webs and skitters back and forth on it, moving from one stuck object to another as she picks up multiple pieces before setting them back down and muttering to herself. Eventually she stops and grabs a normal-looking length of metal chain an crawls back down to Dailung and the others.
"Maybe this would sate the xill. The links detach, and let the holders of each remain in constant empathic contact with one another. Safer, much safer. Would you see if she will see reason?"
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Shrugging Dailung speaks up. "Well, I can try. But you sell weapon to everyone else, don´t you."
Going back Dailung tries to offer the magical chain. "Well, he was very cautious, but he offered something MUCH, much better. Imagine, an item that let´s you all feel what another feels. You can easely protect yourself from thievery, and wives and husband will enjoy their marriage even stronger."
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Torean watches Dailung work as an intermediary with the Xill and Phase Spider. While some dwarves made good living as traders and craftsman, his talents usually lay in other arenas. He grunts when she mentioned the chain making marriage stronger, but stays quiet to let her work.
Kysh looks far less affable than Vad and Dailung as they present the counteroffer.
"Feelings? So she thinks feelings is the equivalent of steel, of tangible relics likely stolen in the first place?"
The xill paces, one of her four arms scratching her head.
"I will cede that even excluding sentimental considerations, there could be some limited tactical use with such contact, especially if the effect could be done through atypical means. But compared to the asked upon price this is an insult is it not?"
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Dailung bows defensivly and continues.
"I am awed by your business acumen. I understand you want a fair deal, maybe make a little profit on the side. Unfortunately I am not gifted with your sense of value. You could lay booth next to each other and I would never understand why an old book of old mysteries is worth more than a shiny new chain. This, I have to admit is my fault. But I do understand people, and I had the feeling that the spiderthingy was far from trying to insult you. Far from it. I had the feeling it was an offer of truce. Especially as a weapon is only good for one person. And the chain had many links. So useful for a whole bunch of people. Well maybe we can make him understand that you need a tiny little bit more, you know to sweeten the deal."
Going back to Beleth, the phase spider frowns at first upon seeing you return without the book, but as Dailung explains the situation she sighs in understanding.
"So, Kysh drives a hard bargain? I feared so. Still, progress, yes? At least business is being engaged in."
"She asks for tangible? Here." The phase spider reaches into the web behind her with some of her rear legs without even turning. They come back with a pearl sphere. "This orb pulled from a border between the elemental planes. Held close, will protect from all extremes of temperature. Best I can do."
"Surely you can see if she will trade the book for the chain and this, yes?"
Dailung rushes across the bazaar yet again to present the latest combination to Kysh: the chain and the orb. The xill crosses her two lower arms and stares silently at the objects. Then she abruptly grabs the pair and moves towards a large text.
”They are…acceptable terms. Likely near-equivalent in value on their own. But I have little doubt with these I can utilize more effectively than it. Give that spdier her pages she wants so badly.”
As you turn to leave, Kysh casually calls out to your party. ”Oh! A parting shot.” She crouches and brings up a cold and thin metal rod. ”While I have little doubt you do not have a hidden stratagem at play here, your assistance has been noted. As a token on acknowledgement, take this if you would like. It is an arrow shaft, plucked from the queen it slew on a planet millennia destroyed.” As soon as you take the shaft from her hands Kysh gives a curt nod and then moves back to her stand, already calling out to entice another customer.
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Beleth claps her hands together and crawls up and down on her web in glee when she sees you approach with the large tome. ”Oh, I knew you were kind people. Excellent helpers: and with silver tongues to talk Kysh into reason! Ah, but of course you would like what was promised, yes? Here:” the large phase spider holds out a clay jug with a wide mouth. Even from a distance, you can hear faint echoes of sobs spill from its mouth. ”Always tastes of seawater and renders sadness. Not a big seller, but could be a collector’s item!”