The Spoils of War [Closed]

[Simon Kinsley]

(( A shop buried in the back alleys of Verdant Row, with an... "eclectic" inventory, a confused shopkeep, and a compact layout. Simon's been busy following up on a tip for a book of peculiar importance, acting quickly in case of possible competition - such as from fellow book-delver, @Edward Sterling. ))

It had been near impossible to find the place; for starters, it lacked any kind of signage denoting the building as a place of trade - only a very creatively dressed mannequin soliciting in the window, wherein the storekeep forgot what clothes were appropriate for the season midway through and invented a couple extras. Such as the upside-down basket for a hat, or the arrangement of pan flutes filling in for a skirt.

The second inconvenience of the shop had been the spacious layout: either the owner was expecting a massive influx of inventory in the next few days or she had completely forgotten to order display furniture, instead opting to pile all the items in exactly half of the shop. The eastern half, to be precise. The western half was as vacant as a bordello on orc night, with an imaginary line demarcating the middle that even rugs wouldn't cross, the few that should instead arranged to fold over themselves and remain on their side.

The end result was a catastrophic hodge-podge lacking any rhyme or reason, tea mixes packed in between gauntlets leaning against potions balanced on chairs aligned against paintings wrapped in scarves and decorated with a smattering of randomly-sized spoons - well and truly, just an utterly chaotic mess. It was no wonder that it had taken forever for any sightings of the book to reach Simon; it seemed entirely reasonable that the blasted thing had simply been buried here for years, not stolen away or locked up in collections.

He had been spending the better part of an hour just sifting through all the odds and ends of the far corner of the shop, having finally worked through everything tucked away in an old chestnut dresser. Spoiler alert: most of it was junk. The most interesting item in that particular pile had been a charm bracelet tagged with a hand-written note that read, "Greater Ward of Fish Concerns," which honestly only lingered in Simon's mind for the sheer absurdity of it. Was it supposed to be anti-anxiety jewellery for marine life? Or maybe it was to cure a land-dweller of their icthyophobia? And most importantly, what in the frozen reaches was a lesser ward of fish concerns?!

The ue'drahc was still slightly pondering the thought as he worked on a new pile, moving baskets of swimwear sprinkled with jars of preserved small animals as he made his way to the bottom of the mountain. He had tried to ask the shopkeep earlier for help, inquiring as to where he might find the book collection. She had merely shrugged, and smiled, and said, "I like the talkative pictures too," only to grab his wrist and hover near his ear - a feat that in itself took the tall researcher by surprise! - and added, "But don't believe the blue covers - they are not on sale today."

Needless to say, the draconic book-finder had not sought out her wisdom again, and proceeded to find his treasure the old-fashioned way. He tossed aside an assortment of black boxes, all of which seemed to be marked from a limited run of pocket watches and finally found the bottom of the pile: a perplexing portrait of an elderly lumeacian who was evidently still very proud of his birthday suit. And, no, the fruit bowl he was posing with did not cover what it needed to.

What he wouldn't give to have the fish bracelet consuming his thoughts again...

Understandably dumping all the idol-embroidered throw pillows back on top of that cursed heap, Simon paused a moment to rub at his eyes beneath the glasses, doing what he could to empty his mind and reignite his will to brave the depths of the curious shop again. After all, was a long-lost tome of forgotten enchantments written by a possible-genius,-possible-crackpot really worth this kind of sacrifice...?

And then he spied it: one of the boxes of watches he had tossed out before wasn't quite the same shape as the others and lacked any enumerations. It was a black-bound book with no title cover hidden in the sea of camouflage, and only very faintly engraved along the spine, 1001 Rituals by Uliri Morro.

(( Abstract Advicing Shopkeep: #b3090c ))

[Edward Sterling]

Our scene begins with a lust-driven howl, sweat-drenched frames of varying size collapsing to their respective sides of the bed. On the right is a merchant - of no particular relevance mind you, who happened to travelling when he happened about The Preamble; Anna Sterling's stopping grounds. She'd been in the process of studying when she discovered the man had a particular set of wares on him. Wares that would infer he'd been delving deep into the arcane; rather recently to be specific.

From his pack stuck out a trio of books, each more ancient than the former: The Deep Mind: A Look at Dream Manipulation, Unveiling History: Story of An Age, and finally 1001 Rituals. Now, the final book in particular left Anna slightly bewildered for a few reasons. First, 1001 Rituals was the ultimate compendium of Invocation Spells. Each and every word written was to be considered gospel to any self-respecting book-delver; especially one as obsessed with historic literature as Edward. If he were to possess that book, he would be one of the most hunted men in all of Khy'eras, let alone Ajteire...Which is where we reach point number two; that book is clearly a fake.

Let us, for a moment, assume he was truly in possession of such a powerful piece of literature. You wouldn't imagine he'd be not only frolicking about but doing so with enough carelessness to let the piece be seen by any other potential delvers; it's a classic bait. However, not all was lost in this-- there was still hope. If he knew enough about the book to perfectly replicate it, that means he knew something about his whereabouts; it was that information he needed to obtain.

Fast forward to the current moment in time, Anna Sterling to the left of the merchant. An overconfident expression plastered The Merchant's face as he inhaled a freshly lit cigarette and chuckled. "What they say about you is true then, that you'll do anything for your husband." The answer, for Edward, was far simpler than the man was to expect "Yes. Anything". Momentarily shocked by her response, the merchant took a moment to ponder it before proceeding on to business.

"Well, a deal is a deal; I'll tell you what I know about the book"...

-

Time rushes forth once more as the book-delver known as Edward Sterling slowly crept through the vulgar, nigh offensive streets of Verdant Row. Due to the nature of the area, the locals hadn't any reason to approach him during his stroll. While he hadn't any outward strength of any kind, it's often common amongst killers to be privy to a nigh-telekinetic reaction when in the presence of kin; and Edward could be spotted as clear as day.

"You don't look like yer from 'round these parts".

An old beggar with far more talent than he let on approached from behind - however, Edward's eyes had been trained on knife he held behind his back. "Tell me something, old man; do you believe in miracles?" The Old Man clenched it tighter "What'sit to'--?" Edward cut him off, sighing before widening his smile "I do. I believe in Miracles. I believe that my being here is a miracle as well as your decision to keep me alive". The Old Man couldn't help but cackle upon hearing his outlandish claim; someone so bold hadn't come around in some time. "And h'what makes ya think imma do that"?--

Yet again, his answer was more simple than anyone cared to realize; if only they did.

"Well, it's easy really" in that one fraction of time, a switch flipped as Edward's bright expression fell behind the thick, fog-covered glasses."I am a hardcore book-delver- an extremist really, who is absolutely obsessed with magic of many kinds..." his eyes narrowed "...including Necromancy".

An aura of a very violent determination exuded from Edward as the old man stepped back, fear violently plastering his visage. Nothing about him suggested he had plans to attack the elder, however, by the mere utterence of Necromancy in a place such as this; it left him weary. "Kind sir, by attacking me you would immediately be volunteering yourself to take part in my research-- which I'm quite sure you wouldn't enjoy. With that being said, you may be old but you aren't that old. You've still got a few years left on you, don't you? It'd be a shame if that went to waste".

At no point did Edward Sterling stop smiling. Throughout everything he's experienced and will continue to experience, his smile would never fade. Now this hadn't been due to particular stretch of lore or anything of the like, instead it was due to the sheer joy he'd felt with learning something new; the fear of death well among them. "R-Right then...o-of course I wasn't gunna' kill ya what with us bein' friends an'all." Hearing this incredible news, Edward clapped his hands together as he let out a gentle laugh of glee. "Friends you say?! See? A Miracle! Aren't they incredible"?!

Nothing more needed to be said to stave the beggar, he had no intention of bringing him any harm - however, he still had some use to him; Edward had a book to find after all. Leaning close, Edward was now inches from the old man's face. He took a moment to breathe in the man's stench as he sighed happily and began to question him.

"Now, I'm in need of an ancient text of great value and was told it may've headed in this direction. Might you've seen anyone or anything strange in the area lately"? The old man scratched his chin as he pondered the question, tapping his foot lightly before slamming it abruptly. "Haven't seen anythin' strange recently, but if yer lookin' fer strange you'd do best to head north up the street to an ol' run down joint up the street; can't miss it".

With a pat on the old man's back, Edward had been on his way; the joy of yet another experience filling him to the brim.

-

The storefront was as dysfunctional as he might've expected. To stay a tornado claimed this place would be an overstatement and an unjust one at that. This was repulsive from head to toe, nothing that the neat freak of a book-delver would be able to stand for much longer. With that in mind, he entered with one foot in front of the other. A determined look across his visage, as he approached the shopkeep with the intent to begin questioning. . . that was, until he looked to his side; noticing an Ue'drahcian eyeing what fit the exact description given to him by The Merchant.

"N-n-no way!" Edward hollered "T-t-there's no way someone happened to be looking for the book at the exact same time as me; it's not real, I must be dreaming". Everything he'd endured to get to this point; he'd lost his virginity for Vetovia's sake! And now, someone was just going to take that way from him? No, there was no way! "W-Wait! I need that book! D-Don't take it"!

@Simon Kinsley