Location [Syliras Location] Undeniable Interests

[Alistair deGrey]

A small flash of irritation surged in deGrey; although it was quickly dismissed as he decided that hypocrisy was not becoming. He eyed the decrepit thing as it shuffled away, no doubt off to lose more precious and rare objects, with a cocked eyebrow. The anger was quickly muting itself, and deGrey composed himself before calling back after Dominac. Though the shop was nigh empty, it seemed like Alistair's voice did not project far enough for the old man to hear. Picking his way through the labyrinthine shop revealed the ancient creature in the back.

"Very well then, my good sir. If you do happen upon any books on the requested subjects, then do not hesitate to contact me. Anything on architecture, engineering, philtering, mathematics, or even philosophy will do. Any tools or machines you happen upon would be greatly appreciated as well. " Alistair found himself turning around to leave, but remembered a very important detail, "Oh, yes, I am Alistair deGrey. You may find me at Mechanical Marvels in Stormhold Castle, if you would like to contact me." With that deGrey reoriented himself for the door, a navigator among a dusty sea, and moved for the exit.

[Marcus Delamurr]

Timestamp: 1st Day of Spring, AV 510

Opening the door with a creak, Marcus was greeted by the musty odour of dust and cobwebs not dissimilar from the smeel he remembered from his time at home in the attic, playing with rats. What a small, weak little thing I was back then he thought to himself as he looked around. Musty tomes and alchemist equipment decorated the store, though what said tomes were about was beyond Marcus for he could not even read the names due to the dust. But Marcus wasn't interest in that, So much knowledge in such a small place. This must be a repository of power if only I could learn it all he thought in amazement, not believing how much power could be had from just this one store. It just shows how much knowledge there is for me to acquire. Returning to the matter at hand, Marcus called out for a shopkeeper for he could see nobody present.

"Excuse me, is anyone there? I would like to inquire about some books and some information, I was recommended that this place would be the place to come for both things. But I must warn you the information I require is not the most freely given." Hearing no reply, Marcus decided to search around the store to see if there were any books that stuck out as being worth buying. "I'm looking for any books you might have on summoning. The knowledge I am looking for is on the same subject. I have had no practise of the art and the little knowledge I have on it is from a book from the academy I used to go to. I was wondering whether you knew of anyone who could teach me for I take it is the sort of thing I would not be able to learn from books. However, I would still be grateful if there were any books you had on the topic for I want to know as much as I can."

After looking over the books for a few more minutes, Marcus was beginning to wonder where the shopkeeper was. Isn't it his job to keep the shop ready for visitors. I do not have time to wait. Deciding to look deeper into the shop, Marcus set out, being careful not to trip over anything valuable.
How hard is it to help a simple customer?

[Gossamer]

Marcus

"Don't you be warning me, lad, on what information I'll give freely or not. What are you? One of those boys someone's chopped the manparts off and turned into a Konti seer now?" Dominac Ariva said, grumbling as he came into view after the man walked into his shop. He moved with a cane, stiffly, as if he was being bothered by his bones in the rapidly changing Syliran Spring.

Dominac Ariva simply furrowed his brow, laughed, and poked his cane at Marcus. "You, lad, think I'm a summoner? That's one of the funniest things I've heard yet. Funny in a sad little way, mage. Although, that doesn't mean I couldn't be one if I wanted to be. I could. Easily. If I wanted too. But I have no desire to rub shoulders with that which don't belong here. Don't mean I don't know nuttin about it. I do. But I don't CARE to do it, got it?" He said, then huffed off, his cane making a clicking sound on the wooden floor as he moved through the shop. Dust puffed up about him, giving Marcus (if he didn't follow) a good idea where he was located by looking over the top of the shelves.

He was back soon enough with a dusty book and a small chest. "This here is a book on summoning. It costs 35 GM, and its not original. I copied it from my own original. It will teach you the basics of beginning to competent summoning.. and I've been told its decently written. I don't know no Summoners unless that crafter up at the castle is one.. but he doesn't teach. This chest here.. this is a summoning kit. It contains all the things you need to make your circles and offer your sacrifices. String, charcoal, chalk, rulers, nails, small hammer to nail a peg into the floor to make the perfect circle chalked out with string... instructions on how.. and the like. I'll let go for 10 gold Mizas cause its an antique. But everything works. " He assured the lad, letting him look at both the book and the kit himself before making any decisions.

[Marcus Delamurr]

[i]Who is this proposterous old man, constantly blabbering on in a most uncivilized fashion. I mean, me, a shape-shifting, eunuch seer. This man must be senile, he definitely looks it,/i] Marcus raged inside his head. Trying to contain the idea to teach this old man some manners, Marcus turned his attention to the dust-covered items in front of him. He looked at the small chest, deciding that back when it was made it must have been quite elegant. However, inconsiderate use and age had left the red paint peeling as well as there being a somewhat unsecure lock holding it all together. Not trusting the rigidity of the box, he decided not to pick it up and moved on to the book. Marcus picked up the book, blowing off the dust in a breath and looked at the front cover. The book was plain and simplistic but looked as if it contained what he needed within the pages and it was the knowledge inside not what it was wrapped in that was important. But it was copied by someone who did not look to be the most reliable of people so how valid the information within the book was another matter.

Looking at the proprietor of the store, Marcus arrived at the conclusion that a little bartering was in order. With some scepticism in his eyes, Marcus said "The chest I will take, though I must say your lucky I'm buying it for ten gold mizars in that kind of repair but I'm not so sure about the book. The book itself is a copy, and you could easily have made some errors when you copied it, and if my life is on the line I want to know the book is correct. Could I compare it to the original? Furthermore, the cover is plain and simple and hardly worth the thrirty five gold mizars your asking for. If I can't see the original I will not buy it for any more than thirty gold mizars. After all, it is not you that is practising dangerous magic with a chance of being killed." After he had finished his quick appeal for a cheaper price. Marcus flicked the lid of the chest over to make sure that everything he had mentioned was inside from string to chalk. Seeing, everything was in order Marcus flicked through the book trying to take in all the diagrams he could while the owner was considering what he was going to say.

[Gossamer]

Marcus

Dominac was entirely unphased by Marcus' rudeness. He was, after all, the king of rude himself. Did he bother to dust for his customers? No. Did he bother to organize things for his customers? No. They came anyhow though, not because they liked him.. it was because he sold good quality and didn't like to be questioned.

"I'm lucky, am I, lad?" The man grinned slightly, toothlessly but in a sly dangerous manner. "Perhaps you shouldn't be doing things that put your life on the line if you aren't sure. Learning from a book is probably one of those things, boy. Any idiot knows that. And I did the copy myself... or that worthless shop boy did. Either way, its good and no you can't see the original. It's behind lock and key where idiots can't ruin it. I told you the price. Thirty five Mizas. If your that worried, leave it here and go find one elsewhere." Dominac wasn't above haggling. He loved it. But he didn't haggle with those that insulted him. "And if you take too long deciding, the price will go up to forty for rudeness and wasting my time." He added. Dominac let him look, in fact, he didn't mind him looking at all. But he wasn't going to let an arrogant young summoner come in and insult him.

[John Vicari]

1st, Spring of 510 A.V.

Dominac was someone John knew now and then and saw in the city. John did not know much of the old man other then he made sure he was always polite and well mannered for his Mother Amy talked of the man in well terms. He remembered a time when he was 12 or so and came to the store in mid fall while his Mother gave Dominac some herbs and plants from the family garden.

However on this first of spring he was not here with his Mother nor any family member but by himself, his cotton clothing felt nice along the soft touch of the north wind as he opened the door making sure it was shut tight behind him.

The smell of old books warped around him as he felt like he was in a peaceful place, cobwebs and dust lined the floor but he paid no mind as he smiled his smile walking past them. "Mr. Ariva?! It's John, John Vicari. You might remember my mother Amy Vicari?" He said out loud not really in a rush or anything as he was sure the man was working on something or taking a cat nap.

He would wait for a reply of some kind as he looked around for a set of quills, John was slowly getting good with Calligraphy but he knew the shop keeper was far better as he was still a student yet he was always on the outlook for better quills and inks. What people did not know is that he was learning Forgery as well by mocking his parents and sisters signature when it was dead of night then throwing the items away.

[Alistair deGrey]

37th of Spring, 510 AV

Is the pursuit of knowledge noble enough to cast our humanity to the wind as the price? I think not, but as in many pursuits I am unsure. Will I one day be this ancient creature, dying in a self imposed exile? Will I share my prison cell with books and trinkets, scraps of knowledge to barricade the door against Dira's hand? Perhaps it is not an admirable state, but it may be indubitable as the ticking of a clock. I think not, but I am unsure.

Alistair deGrey had smelled this small corner of Syliras before. He did not like it. The dust draped itself on everything, it was the lifeblood of the proprietorship. Frozen in time, it longed to course through the shop's veins and allow it breath once more. But Dominac sternly rebuked the dust, revelling in stagnation.

Not a sound broke through the hazy silence, deGrey forged ahead, into the surreal realm of junk and treasure. Gold and filth were found in equal quantity within these confines. Alistair's eyes fell upon a set of vials, the same he had seen upon his last visitation. There were more interesting things at the moment though.

The inventor spoke, cautiously as he had the first time, "Err, hello. I would like to purchase some texts again..." Alistair stood stock still, for all he knew Dominac could be hiding underneath the small mound of unidentified (and unidentifiable) objects to his right. As last time, anything on engineering, machines, or philtering would be appreciated. Oh, and any philters themselves, or unique tools. I do not suppose you have anything pre-valterric do you?" deGrey hushed himself, feeling like a fool for going off without even being sure if Dominac was here, or alive.

[Dusk]

John Vicari A rustle and thud from one side of the store, then shuffling steps as Dominac's head peeked out from behind a row of shelves. "Vicari?" he said, eyes darting up and down the boy. "Vicari. Didn't seem one to let her boy go wondering off by himself in the big, bad world," he cackled, making his way over to John and peering up at him. "Then again, she was always a tricky one, was Amy. I imagine you've a few tricks up your sleeve as well, yes, young man?" Shrewd eyes met his for a moment, and then he laughed again, a little less nicely this time, and shuffled around John towards the other side of the store. "I'm sure you didn't come here to reminisce with some old man your mother knew. What do you want, boy? I'm a busy man and I've a lot of work to do," he said, coughing a little as he slammed a palm down on the (nearly over-flowing) desk at the front of the shop, stirring up a cloud of dust.

Alistair deGrey "Why are people always yelling when they coming through the door?" came a haggard voice from behind a stack of papers and dust. A cane was slammed into the floor with a thunk! and then Dominac hauled himself back to his feet, a grimy book tucked under one arm. "No one ever knocks or rings a bell or anything. Just stands in the front and hollers and expects me to magically appear just because you need something. One day I'm going to be at lunch and one of you demanding little buggers are going to just stand there and scream yourself hoarse." He grumbled a little more under his breath, crossing in front of Alistair to put the book under his arm onto an entirely different shelf. "Do I have anything pre-Valterric," he repeated back with a scoff. "How old do you think I am, boy? These wrinkles haven't seen the fall of Alahea," he said with a rusty laugh. Then, in a swift change of direction, he grinned at deGrey. "Of course I have pre-Valterric artifacts! Why, I've a brick from Suva, brought to me by Charoda child who played in the ruins. But I doubt that's the sort of think you care for. Philtering, engineering, machines, hmm, yes, and architecture as well?" he chuckled, puttering back over to a bookshelf and drawing down a tome. "Here, boy, I saved this one just for you. It's a description of the architecture of Ahnatep, and all the blatant luxuries that the Eypharians could dream up. Illustrated, too, though I had to get someone else to do that for me since I've no hand for that. Fifty gold mizas, since it's got all the pictures," he said, waving the book at him before dropping it on a pile of things, puffing up another cloud of dust. He took off across the shop again, step-step-tap with his cane, and disappeared behind another shelf. "I've the same tools I had last time, and I'll tell you again - you let me know what you're looking for and I'll tell you if I've got it," he cackled, the thump! of falling books indicating another search. He appeared again, and dumped three more books on top of the other one. "Now, this one has some more philtering recipes, but the ingredients get a bit more hard to find. That one," he said, pointing to the slim volume with an intricately-patterned cover, "is a drafting guide. Mathematics and measurements and such to teach you how to properly sketch out your plans so you don't end up having to revise everything once you've got it cut and you're trying to stick it all together. And the last one is a book on religion," he said, glancing up at him with a shrewd glimmer in his eyes, "that I think you'll find most helpful. Now. Fifty for the architecture, thirty for the philtering, let's say another twenty for the drafting since it's on the thin side. And fifteen for the last one if you take all the rest."

[Alistair deGrey]

Objects hold secrets. Everything has a history, and only the civilized speak of it. Think of the enormity of this realization once one considers it. We are a fraction of a fraction of what exists. So much history is buried beneath the sediment of time, we should uncover it.

The inventor's eyes widened for a second as Dominac materialized from the shop's inventory. Though the thought that the proprietor was concealed somewhere had occurred to him, where he came from was still a surprise. The surprise lasted for a few moments before fading back to calm.

Dominac wasted no time in either greetings or stillness, launching into a torrential monologue as he hobbled around the shop. He collected a few books, mentioned a brick, the same tools he had mentioned last season. He must not sell most of... deGrey arrested the idiotic thought as he glanced around.

The downpour from the shop keeper's mouth ceased, and Alistair weakly took it up. "Right good sir. I believe the Ahnatep text is of interest to me. I will also take up your offer on the drafting guide and philtering text." deGrey paused for a few moments, contemplating the last text. Religion, was it really something he- oh well. "I will take the text on religion as well."

There was something else that resonated with deGrey. The brick. It might be interesting for a materials analysis. It could even reveal a few pieces of information about Suvan. Any object could be made curious if one asked the right questions. "What is the price of the brick? I might like to purchase it as well."

[Dusk]

Alistair deGrey The old man nodded as Alistair decided to take all the books, and he picked them up and brought them over to the front desk, scrounging around for a bit of string to tie them together with. He gave another cackling laugh as Alistair asked about the brick. "Every time you come in here you ask about instruments, and every time I tell you, 'Let me know what you want!' and you never do. I don't think it's instruments you want. I think you just like to waste my time." He finished tying the knot, and turned back to Alistair with a scowl. "You give me two hundred, I'll give you all the books and the brick," he said, waiting to see if the inventor would try to haggle.