16th of Spring, 520
"Why would I need soulmist? I already know how to make it myself. Besides, Blackrock is crawling with spiritists. I can get this anywhere", the vendor waved dismissively at the jar in his customer's gloved hand.
A soft, amused noise trickled from the Madeira's throat. "Oh sir, I promise you, you've never seen soulmist like mine."
The Open Sky Bazaar was packed and noisy, but this particular booth proving rather unpopular, and thus was a bubble of calm amid the shuffle of shoppers. It had no sign, consisting of only a few tables and a canopy of dark fabric to keep out the heat. The vendor himself was just as austere in his plain robes, which made his only customer stand out that much more. Madeira wore white lace from throat to floor, was gloved even in the heat, and the edges of a bracer crossbow poked from under her long sleeve. Several hundred mizas worth of colourful jewellery were wrapped around her waist, throat and wrist, and the severe braid wrapped around the back of her head was as hard and shiny as lacquered wood.
She had already bought a brick of dried leaves from the vendor, and paid the asking price for them. She had never seen wraith mint in person before and had eagerly jumped at the chance to purchase such a rare item from the Blackrock merchant regardless of the price. The semi-translucent leaves were already in her satchel before she noticed the other items the vendor had to sell. It wasn't much. A few religious tokens, some fine quality paper, and a single, strange vial of ink. When asked about the vial, the man had explained, in the heavy way merchants often do, all about its strange, mystical properties. Apparently the ink inside was completely invisible in the light, and glowed in the dark.
A strange idea, creating written work that could only be read in complete darkness. But regardless Madeira decided right then that she wanted it. She was a world mage, after all, and one who didn't know any glyphing or cryptography. This could be an effective way to keep her notes away from prying eyes. Ennisa and her nosiness came to mind.
But just because she wanted it didn't mean she was willing to pay for it, so she offered a trade; her master-level soulmist for his magic item.
Unfortunately the vendor was not terribly impressed with her offer. "Again, soulmist isn't exactly in high demand. But perhaps I can sell it. How long does it last?" he leaned against his rickety display table, arms folded in a rather theatrical display of dismissiveness.
Madeira's blue painted lips cracked into a smile. "Permanently."
That earned her half a centimetre of raised brow, but nothing else. Fine. With her shoulders back and her voice dripping in confidence, she pushed harder.
“You don’t understand, there is nothing a ghost would not do for even a sniff of what's in this jar", she turned the thing in her hands, holding it in her shadow to enhance its ethereal glow. "It doesn't fade, it doesn't rot, it's barriers cannot be breached and every ghost who's touch it has begged me for more. It's been made from the blood of a unique, magically altered creature, and its traits will carry into the spirit who imbibes it. And if its mettle you want, then you'll be pleased to know its been tested against one of Uldr’s Desolate Ones. It shredded the creature like paper, and told it the sweetest Lies. Whatever kind of soulmist you have in Blackrock..." She placed the jar purposefully on the table between them, her blue eyes boring into his. "Mine is better."
Finally she had his attention. The vendor was squinting into her face, as if he would be able to see a lie rattling around inside. Madeira met it coolly, daring him to see more than her absolute confidence in her abilities. This was the one area where she was certain of her mastery.
The man finally looked away, his arms loosening as he sighed. "Those are some bold claims. If they're true there is probably someone who wants it. Blackrock has many ghosts."
"More ghosts than people who want to write notes in the dark, I assume", she pressed, fighting the curve of a smile.
"I suppose so. Fine, you have a deal.”
"Took you long enough."
Madeira had edged her way around a group of shoppers obscuring the front of the small stall and was tucking a vial of ink into her bag to join the brick of wraith mint when a voice echoed from the narrow alley between two partitioned stalls. From the dark slinked an enormous black feline, the bone plates along his back reflecting a greasy yellowish in the lamplight. He brought with him the powerful and unmistakable smell of liquorice. Madeira rolled her eyes.
"Don't even pretend you were waiting for me, Spooks. You know if whatever pass for Shinya here catch you killing their doves, they'll rip you apart."
"They will not. They practically worship cats."
"You're not a cat."
The two bickered in low voices as they wandered further into the Bazaar.
A soft, amused noise trickled from the Madeira's throat. "Oh sir, I promise you, you've never seen soulmist like mine."
The Open Sky Bazaar was packed and noisy, but this particular booth proving rather unpopular, and thus was a bubble of calm amid the shuffle of shoppers. It had no sign, consisting of only a few tables and a canopy of dark fabric to keep out the heat. The vendor himself was just as austere in his plain robes, which made his only customer stand out that much more. Madeira wore white lace from throat to floor, was gloved even in the heat, and the edges of a bracer crossbow poked from under her long sleeve. Several hundred mizas worth of colourful jewellery were wrapped around her waist, throat and wrist, and the severe braid wrapped around the back of her head was as hard and shiny as lacquered wood.
She had already bought a brick of dried leaves from the vendor, and paid the asking price for them. She had never seen wraith mint in person before and had eagerly jumped at the chance to purchase such a rare item from the Blackrock merchant regardless of the price. The semi-translucent leaves were already in her satchel before she noticed the other items the vendor had to sell. It wasn't much. A few religious tokens, some fine quality paper, and a single, strange vial of ink. When asked about the vial, the man had explained, in the heavy way merchants often do, all about its strange, mystical properties. Apparently the ink inside was completely invisible in the light, and glowed in the dark.
A strange idea, creating written work that could only be read in complete darkness. But regardless Madeira decided right then that she wanted it. She was a world mage, after all, and one who didn't know any glyphing or cryptography. This could be an effective way to keep her notes away from prying eyes. Ennisa and her nosiness came to mind.
But just because she wanted it didn't mean she was willing to pay for it, so she offered a trade; her master-level soulmist for his magic item.
Unfortunately the vendor was not terribly impressed with her offer. "Again, soulmist isn't exactly in high demand. But perhaps I can sell it. How long does it last?" he leaned against his rickety display table, arms folded in a rather theatrical display of dismissiveness.
Madeira's blue painted lips cracked into a smile. "Permanently."
That earned her half a centimetre of raised brow, but nothing else. Fine. With her shoulders back and her voice dripping in confidence, she pushed harder.
“You don’t understand, there is nothing a ghost would not do for even a sniff of what's in this jar", she turned the thing in her hands, holding it in her shadow to enhance its ethereal glow. "It doesn't fade, it doesn't rot, it's barriers cannot be breached and every ghost who's touch it has begged me for more. It's been made from the blood of a unique, magically altered creature, and its traits will carry into the spirit who imbibes it. And if its mettle you want, then you'll be pleased to know its been tested against one of Uldr’s Desolate Ones. It shredded the creature like paper, and told it the sweetest Lies. Whatever kind of soulmist you have in Blackrock..." She placed the jar purposefully on the table between them, her blue eyes boring into his. "Mine is better."
Finally she had his attention. The vendor was squinting into her face, as if he would be able to see a lie rattling around inside. Madeira met it coolly, daring him to see more than her absolute confidence in her abilities. This was the one area where she was certain of her mastery.
The man finally looked away, his arms loosening as he sighed. "Those are some bold claims. If they're true there is probably someone who wants it. Blackrock has many ghosts."
"More ghosts than people who want to write notes in the dark, I assume", she pressed, fighting the curve of a smile.
"I suppose so. Fine, you have a deal.”
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"Took you long enough."
Madeira had edged her way around a group of shoppers obscuring the front of the small stall and was tucking a vial of ink into her bag to join the brick of wraith mint when a voice echoed from the narrow alley between two partitioned stalls. From the dark slinked an enormous black feline, the bone plates along his back reflecting a greasy yellowish in the lamplight. He brought with him the powerful and unmistakable smell of liquorice. Madeira rolled her eyes.
"Don't even pretend you were waiting for me, Spooks. You know if whatever pass for Shinya here catch you killing their doves, they'll rip you apart."
"They will not. They practically worship cats."
"You're not a cat."
The two bickered in low voices as they wandered further into the Bazaar.
Ledger :
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