Arctorus shrugs, and starts to speak before remembering what Asta had said. He clenches his teeth and says ”Wha ya go? Any’hin’ da kew trows?”
Making note of Arctorus' direction of travel, Arabeth does pause to peek into the beckoning wagon labeled "Globorb's".
Still being careful about whre she's placing her bare feet as she walks closer.
The Crone's question causes Torod to stop. "Does he want to know?" He asks himself. "I did not consider that." He looks to Asta.
"This, my friend, is Antetrallitus!" He unsheathes a gold-gilded bastard sword with engravings depicting trolls fleeing, trolls dying, and trolls transformed into statues. "The champion who wielded it before trading it to me was crippled in battle in the Loric Fells, and with no heir to wield the blade in his stead, he traded it to me in exchange for...well, a different weapon more suited to his leg-deficient state. The price of this weapon is the head of a troll of uncommon lineage, to be paid immediately, but it should be noted that not all that glitters is gold, and it's not anywhere near as potent when wielded against non-troll foes."
He sets Antetrallitus on the counter and reaches for another weapon; this one is a longspear, with the blade-end carved to look like a snarling devil. "This one has no name, but when its head bites into flesh, it cauterizes on its way out. Its former owner was preparing for a venture into the heart of the Worldwound, where fire was less serviceable than other sources of damage, and so it came into my possession in exchange for a glaive of demons' bane. The price is loyalty to the weapon forevermore, or until you trade it to a new owner."
A large orb-weaver lowers herself from the ceiling, descending with eight legfulls of potions and elixirs, which she sets inside of a display case suspended from the labyrinth of webbing to hover a few inches from the floor. ”Welcome to Globorb’s Motionary Potionary. Can I hel–”
The littler spiders quickly interrupt the big one. ”What’s your name?” ”How do you walk with so few legs?” ”Where’s your web-spinner?” ”Who’s your mom? My mom’s Globorb!”
”AS I WAS SAYING, CAN I HELP YOU?”
Arctorus looks at the man, confused. ”Mithtah, I dunno halth ob wha yuh thayin’ meanth. Buh I eitha uth a big axe or my clawth,” he says with difficulty, holding up his claws as an example.
"Immaterial. At the time the baby... whatever happened, Oleg was a member of the Council and steward of Tradeford. An attack on them is an attack on Stagland. It is not about "want". It is about "need". Especially since other families might be endangered if a culprit is left free to roam."
"Truth for an ally at the price of a lie for an enemy? Are you ready to pay that price?"
The Witchmarket (Arabeth):Inside the wagon is a surprisingly spacious room, almost all of which is covered in spiderwebs. Stuck inside the webs are various decanters, alembics, and a crucible filled with a boiling, silvery metal, and moving between them are a number of spiders the size of Arabeth’s hand. A small, spiderweb-free section of the floor is roped off near the door.A large orb-weaver lowers herself from the ceiling, descending with eight legfulls of potions and elixirs, which she sets inside of a display case suspended from the labyrinth of webbing to hover a few inches from the floor. ”Welcome to Globorb’s Motionary Potionary. Can I hel–”
The littler spiders quickly interrupt the big one. ”What’s your name?” ”How do you walk with so few legs?” ”Where’s your web-spinner?” ”Who’s your mom? My mom’s Globorb!”
”AS I WAS SAYING, CAN I HELP YOU?”
"Well... The lands abounding us are soon to be strife filled with rather unsavoury seeming Trolls." Arabeth begins,
"And I would be seeking things that can aid the people against such a plight." She responds directly to Miss Globorb before turning her smile to the myriad youngsters scuttling about.
"As for all your questions? I would love to settle and chat but I have a freind whom I'm wandering the markets with and.. I don't wish to lose track of them." She offers a polite curtsy towards Miss Globorb.
"I do so look forwards to spending more time with you and yours Ma'am. However I think I must be off. Later we should definately chat about possible wares, yes?" Arabeth is polite as she can be while glancing about the wagon's interior but her concern for her freind weighs more upon her mind than the current polite company.
So saying, she takes her leave
Stepping back outside the wagon, again with a freindly and polite wave gooodbye to the seller inside, Arabeth looks about both for arctorus as well as for where she shold place her bare feet as she resumes wandering the market place.
"If I can be the one to spin that lie, I should be delighted," Asta says, her blue eyes flaring ruby-crimson. "I have just the one in mind."
The Crone's Cart
"Hahahaha, hehehe..." Aggys shines her lantern's light on Asta, looking her in the eye with a single, rheumy orb. "You...I like you. Heh. You may craft the lie, but I will deliver it. Once you've done your part, your friend shall know the truth of the child." She holds out a gnarled, arthritic hand to shake. "Agreed?"
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
The Witchmarket
A few smaller fae move out of Arabeth's path as she makes her way through the Witchmarket. Before long, she can see Replaced Weapons, and Arctorus's huge form inside it.
Meanwhile, at Replaced Weapons, the shop's proprietor looks Arctorus over as he resheathes the sword and picks up the spear. "A...big axe? Very well, I'll see what I have in the back." His voice gets fainter as he steps through the cloth barrier. Not much call for big axes anymore. Heroes and adventurers all seem to want swords or bows, and no one gives a tinker's cuss for the weapon of the common folk."
The man comes back and lays a beautiful felling axe on the table. The haft is nearly a yard long, made of thick oak and inscribed in Ulfen runes, while the blade, clearly not made for war, is nevertheless sharp and solid. "This one has a sad story, if a short one. It was used by a woodcutter only a few miles from here. He and his daughter lived in the Narlmarches near here, until the trolls came. They slew the woodcutter first, and then his daughter when she took up his axe. However, Gorum saw her bravery and blessed the axe; it carries her spirit. The price is an oath to find her killer and defeat him, but it could be a challenge, as she's never spoken the troll's name, nor described what he looks like."
Arctorus looks at the axe quizzically, and back the the shopkeeper, before kneeling down and asking the axe ”Whath the twollth name? How do I kew it if I dun know ith name?”
This guy is dumber than me. Even I know axes can’t talk. They chop!
Torod still hesitates. "Will we also know the truth? If we agree to this deal, will I still be able to negotiate for a better weapon? What if Oleg doesn't care about the truth and still hates me?" That last question seems to be a surprise Torod. Almost like he didn't mean to actually speak it out loud.
Arabeth wanders up to the 'Replaced Weapons' cart with a smile, being as freindly and efferential to all who cross her path.
She offers a curtsey and greeting to the proprietor quietly as arctorus engages in his axe ritual.
"The first two questions," Asta says to Torod, "our hostess must answer. As to the third... we'll deal with it. Somehow."
To Aggys, Asta shows the smile of a Winter Witch as she shakes her hand.
"Bargain met is bargain sealed, lady queen of the Witchmarket.
And here is the lie for an enemy: "I am your kindred soul and you should straight away come to see me and reveal yourself. I shall shower you with gifts.""
The Crone's Cart
"A wonderful lie. I'm sure your enemy will believe it." Aggys claps her hands twice. "Vitalion!"
The satyr appears in the door scant seconds later, as if he'd been listening outside the entire time. He bows, and the hag speaks. "Deliver the following lie to an enemy of our queen. You'll know the one, I think. And then, deliver the truth about their child to both Oleg and Svetlana." Once again, Vitalion bows and then disappears out of the wagon's door.
"To answer, you'll know the truth if the truth's recipients deem sharing a good choice. Now, Torod, you wished for a better weapon? There are a great many weapon smiths in the Witchmarket, but if you'd prefer to negotiate with me instead, that can be arranged. A bow, is it? What are you looking for in a bow?"
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Replaced Weapons
Arabeth arrives at Replaced Weapons just in time to see Arctorus talking to an axe sitting on the counter. The shopkeeper glances, then double-takes. He looks at Arabeth expectantly. ""Greetings, adventurer. Are you looking to buy? I have a wonderful selection of used and pre-owned weapons."
Arctorus's sits there, listening for the axe to speak. As he does, a short rhyme bounces into his head, though no one else seems able to hear it.
"In dead of night, trolls did come,
led by a titanic one."
Though it seems like a small bit of information, no more is forthcoming, no matter how long Arctorus waits.
The shopkeeper clears his throat. "You got the first rhyme, I presume. To be clear, she's talked to me before, but I'm a salesman, not a warrior. If you agree to help her, be prepared to commit to it. Will you take her?"
Torod shudders as the deal takes hold. He bows respectfully to the Crone. "All I wish to trade now is coin and I fear your bargaining prowess would leave me penniless or even owning more than I have. I will test my fortunes in the market." Torod makes to leave, but stops just inside the door. He turns back, "This is just what I feared for you, Asta. Torod often spoke of his fear of Asta's ambitions, but he just made a deal himself, how could he argue she not make one too? They are off to war and his deal was not to save the kingdom, but a matter of vanity, so that one man would like him. At least Asta's deal would matter to the world, though he worried how it would matter.
In shame, Torod walks out the door.
Replaced Weapons
Arabeth arrives at Replaced Weapons just in time to see Arctorus talking to an axe sitting on the counter. The shopkeeper glances, then double-takes. He looks at Arabeth expectantly. ""Greetings, adventurer. Are you looking to buy? I have a wonderful selection of used and pre-owned weapons."
Arabeth offers the shopkeep a polite curtsey and smile but shakes her head in the negative. She is far more interested in watching Arctorus' ritual with the axe.
She doesn't want to disrupt anything so she remains quiet for now.
"This was dicey, but it was not my ambition that guided me," Asta says as she catches Torod up. "It was the best way I could think of on short notice to get the information we needed. We need Oleg and Svetlana if we can get them back. We need to find out who swapped their child and stop them from doing further harm.
This is about the kingdom. If it allows us to get our friends back, that is a happy bonus. If the lie brings an enemy into the light so we can cut them down, that's gravy.
Please believe me when I tell you these things. I rely on you to keep watching me and to warn me if I go too far. I trust you."
The axe's haft is longer and thicker than is usual for a human woodcutter's felling axe, although the head is more-or-less correctly-sized. Its grips feel about the right size for Actorus's claws, as well. It's clear that, whoever this woodcutter was, he was a big man.
As Asta and Torod talk, they make their way toward Replaced Weapons. There, the shopkeep looks up, double-takes, and looks at both Asta and Torod expectantly. "Greetings, adventurers. Are you looking to buy? I have a wonderful selection of used and pre-owned weapons."
The others arrive just in time to see Arctorus stumble back in shock and land with a heavy thud on his rump as he hawks at the axe. He blinks dumbfoundedly at the shopkeeper, then to the others with a look of confusion on his face. ”The axe! It talked!”
Arabeth reaches out and places a comforting hand upon Arctour's shoulder.
She looks to the shop keep, even as she acknowledges Asta's and orod's arrival with a freindly nod.
"You weapons are magic?" She asks the man.
"I'm not much good at melee," Asta says, "but my friends are good at it, and I'd like to add to their trading power."
The Witch places her darkwood quarterstaff on the counter.
"This is fairly precious to me, as a memento. But securing the future is more important than fond memories. I hear you like to trade."
"Yes, it did talk. Or, more accurately, it talked to you only." The shopkeep picks up the axe. "I told you that Gorum allowed the woodcutter's daughter to live on inside of it. There's one thing that must be done, if you are to embark on the sad Miss Elena's vengeance quest. Do you, Arctorus, take Miss Elena to be your lawfully-wedded axe, to cherish and protect, in sickness and in health, 'till death do you part?"
Having asked the question of Arctorus, the shopkeep turns to Asta and Arabeth. "It's a fine staff, to be sure, but the value of a weapon is the stories it's been part of. Tell me the weapon's story, and I'll tell you its value. And no, miss, not all of my weapons are magic, but all of them have a tale, and all of them wish to continue it."
Arabeth frowns a little at the shop-keeps reply. Though, wether it's to hiswords to Arctorus, it's not easy to discern.
"Sadly, I left my sword with my other clothes." Arabeth explains to th ship-keep indicating the thin silk dress and cape she has on at the moment. She offers Arctorus another freindly pat on the shoulder before stepping (Carefully) outside to see what else the market has to offer as she waits for Asta and Torod to finish, having some information about the market to share with them.
Though she does enjoy the warmth of the day's sun upon herself as she waits. Shifting her cape open a tad more to bask quietly.
The issue is that, perhaps, the axe is haunted by the soul of some one and that the shop-keep wants to 'Wed' said haunted axe to Arctorus.
A lot more going on with the fellow than meets the eye.
"Uhhhh..." Arctorus looks at the man rambling off a bunch of weird words at him. "I mean, if you want me to use that axe to kill one certain troll, then uh...yeah...I guess I can do that. What's 'wedded' and 'cherush' mean? And how does an axe get sick?" he asks as he takes the axe from the man.
"Err.... yes. I am looking for a weapon to help me defend our nation. A bow would be preferred."
"Wonderful! I now pronounce you...er...lizard and axe." The shopkeeper pulls Arctorus aside. "The marriage oath will suffice, for an oath to defeat the woodcutter's daughter's enemy. And, since she never got to marry in life, it'll help her experience it in death, at least until she can have a peaceful afterlife. She likes poetry, long walks in the woods, and slaying trolls."
The impromptu weapon wedding completed, the shopkeep hurries back past the cloth barrier. He returns with two bows and a quiver of arrows.
"The arrows are recovered from a Kellid hunter who stalked mammoths. They're Hushing Arrows. The worst thing you can do when hunting a mammoth is let it trumpet, since it can send the rest of the herd into a panicked stampede - at least that's what the hunter told me. Their price is your voice, six seconds per arrow."
He points to the first bow. It's a shorter bow, the kind a cavalryman might carry, made from layers of horn and yew. "This was a crusader's bow in the second Mendevian Crusade. Arrows fired from it that miss return to your quiver. Though the crusader fought hard, he wasn't able to stem the flow of the demons from the Worldwound, and in defeat, he traded it to me for a song. Unfortunately, the cost of this item is in coin - 8300 of your finest, to be precise." He sniffs, turning up his nose at the weapon. ”It’s the price it was consigned to me for, not one I’d ask.”
The second bow is a greatbow, formed from a single branch. "If you know much about your target, this bow will be of great help. It was an elven bow, wielded by an archer against Treerazer in Kyonin. Its shots will, on occasion, be more effective when placed against enemies you know something about. However, its price is antithetical to its power - a loss of knowledge.”
While she awaits Torod's decision and Arctorus' gathering his composure and his new axe, Arabeth points out the potion wagon to Lady Asta.
As Arabeth indicates across the way to where the wagon rests amongst the carnival bunting Arabeth leans closer to talk quietly.
"The Lady of the wagon, a Miss Globorb, seems quite welcoming to the purchasing of potions and such." Arabeth smiles. "Just be aware of the Miss Merchant's rather... exotic... nature." Arabeth's great cloak rustles as she adjusts it setting upon her shoulders.
"Be welcoming of the Lady's family which is ensconced with her as well." Arabeth adds pleasantly.
"Thank you, but... I am unsure," Asta says. "I would prefer to get my hands on a healing wand, if such a thing can be found here. Potions are second choice."
"No. No thank you." Torod begins to fear this place. "It is time for me to be on my way. I'll be taking my leave of the market." He leaves.
Arabeth nods in agreement/understanding of Lady Asta's words. Though she takes note of where the 'Potion' wagon is in the carnival, she indicates to Asta that perhaps they should seek a vendor of wands?
So saying Arabeth begins to wander the festival again seeking out what wares are for sale and trade.
Her bare feet still being careful of where they might step.
Arabeth is able to dodge, tiptoe past, and otherwise avoid a swarm of grigs and two red-hatted, angry-looking little men who are arguing with each other as they make their way through the Witchmarket. After wandering for a while, she and Asta find themselves in front of a locked box on a stand. Nearby is a handwritten sign: Back in a few moments - Pay-What-You-Will Wands. Near the locking mechanism is a small slit and a pile of papers, along with a pen and ink.
Desired Effects:
Number of Uses:
Number of Wands:
Payment:
Conditions, Stipulations, and Warnings: Pay-What-You-Will Wands does not take responsibility for cheapskates or those who fail to pay, not for the consequences of cheating Pay-What-You-Will Wands. Wands are not to be used in any unintended ways, and Pay-What-You-Will Wands does not assume liability for unintended uses. Wait two hours after eating before using Pay-What-You-Will Wands' wands.
Near the box, in the shadows, it's possible to make out a few figures moving. When they stray into the light of the lamp above, however, they disappear.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
As Torod and Arctorus (I think) make their way back to the edge of the Witchmarket, they see a single troll with two heads talking to a green-skinned shopkeep at a tinker's stand.
Though the troll (or trolls, perhaps) is trying to be quiet, it's easy to overhear that he's trying to get a necklace's clasp fixed. "For the boss, you understand. Have to fix it for the boss!"
Arabeth tries to indicate the place where some... one might be watching to Lady Asta.
Taking a black feathered quill from her belt pouch Arabeth gently take some paper and deftly begins to craft a reply.
Desired Effects: Cure wounds
Number of Uses: Standard 50
Number of Wands: As many as can be supplied within a limited, coming two week period.
Payment: The standard, reciprocal, agreed amount of minted currency OR barter for services of agreed upon equal value.
Setting the quill down with the other writing materials, Arabeth shows her note to Lady Asta.
"I thought to keep the innitial request... limited?" She explains. Arabeth glances towards where their watchers may still be.
Asta casts a cool glance in the direction indicated by Arabeth, but does not otherwise react. Instead, she replies to the Oracle: "Try for wands of fire, the kind that Torod can use," Asta counsels. "What is the name of that spell again…? Oh, yes. Fiery runes, Fire sneeze and Flaming sphere."
Arabeth smiles. Happy that Lady Asta has found her skills of use. Taking up her black quill Arabeth scritches out three more notes.
basically the same form as previously. Just changing the names of the spells required/requested.
When fininshed Arabeth sets her plumed stylus aside as she casts her glance about. Her eyes seeking for stalls and places trading in more fripperous goods.
Arctorus sees the big green guy, and starts to approach to see if he can help. Then he remembered that was what a troll was, and instead looked to Torod. He lifted his new axe and gets a toothy grin, but waited for Torod to give him an idea of what to do next.
The box clicks and clatters before coughing out the requested wands, each with an identifying paper attached. As the first (a Wand of Cure Light Wounds, 50 Charges, 750 coins) falls out of the box, it creaks to a halt for a moment and Arabeth feels her coin purse grow noticeably lighter. The tag changes to (Cure Light Wounds, 50 charges - 18 Pre-Paid, 750 coins - 266 coins Pre-Paid). The other wands have similar tags (Fiery Runes, 50 Charges, 4,500 coins), (Fire Sneeze, 50 Charges, 4,500 Coins), and (Flaming Sphere, 50 Charges, 4,500 coins).
With their wands purchased, the party regroups, re-collects their weapons, and is faced with a choice. Back to the city, or off to fight the trolls?
Arabeth happily shares around the wands. (^_^)
Arctorus gives the two headed troll a cold glare as he walked by, but figured the Queen wouldn’t want him making trouble here. So, once outside of the witch sale thing, he took up his original axe and placed it on his back as he said ”So...we want to take this two-head-troll out while he is alone?”
"We dare not violate the neutrality of the Witchmarket. Besides, we can trail him, instead."
Turning to Torod: "You feel up to a little stealthy tracking, my friend? Oh... Arabeth secured these for you -- with coin."
Asta indicates the three wands of fiery magic.
"That I can do." Torod's hand goes to pet Strawberry, but he pulls it back once he touches fur and realized that it's Chuffy instead. He then extends his hand again for a few strokes. The pair skulk off after the troll.
Stealth
Chuffy Stealth
Arabeth takes note of the hulking creature. Her fears about its nature causing her to stand a little closer to Asta.
The troll stomps his way out of the Witchmarket, then stops, sniffs, and turns. "Nag smells a man!"
"Rundi sees a rat!"
The troll fumbles with the necklace he's been carrying, clips it around his neck, and stomps toward Torod, claws out!
Arctorus, seeing the beast intends to fight too, charges forward wielding his new axe. Once he reaches the troll, he swings it around in a powerful arc, aiming for the things chest!
Arabeth closes her eyes, seeks that place of inner peace, before reaching out nad casting her influence over Torod.
The big troll rocks from the fury of Arctorus's blow, a huge wound opening it his chest, but he roars defiance, and even as he does, the wound begins to close.
(Arctorus is Shaken (-2 to attacks, saves, and skill/ability checks) for 1 round.)
Surprised this thing was still standing, as well as roaring at him, Arctorus reels a bit and flails his axe harmlessly at the trolls faces.
__________