Post by Sire Halfblack on Aug 4, 2014 19:58:23 GMT
Septus IM 1003
Fade ran his hand along the crowded shelves. Mr. Barkle’s Outfitters was surprisingly good, the wares not always new but of a quality and variety that showed the business to be rather a good one. Stacks of packs, pouches and belts hung upon a series of pegs on one side, scabbards, sheaths and simple leather armour to the other. Flasks and skins were piled by the door and all manner of coats, blankets and hats hung from the ceiling. In a series of drawers could be found wet-stones, leather needles, spikes, laces, wedges and wax. Under glass lay a vast array of curious tools that would no doubt set a scout to slathering and axes, hammers, saws and other practical tools were in racks above and along the shops door and barred window.
There was actually not a lot of room to move about and so it was that Fade turned to Mr. Barkle with a grin and outlined a few salient points regarding himself, his tribe and the city. The reformed tribesman blanched.
“I’m a shopkeeper! I pay my taxes!”
“Really..?”
“Yes, really! We all do. Big city, new start, we understand tithing.”
Fade stared hard at the man and was surprised to note that he was probably telling the truth. That, more than anything else caused him to alter his attitude to one more friendly. He pressed Mr. Barkle once again for the answers to his questions.
“Shaman? That colossal wanker?” He spat. “Be the death of us all. I told him, ‘we have to move with the times Proud Stamping, move with the times’, that’s what I said. We came here to escape from the Hordehost and its Spiral nonsense. But Stamping, oh no, he was visited by some lost totem and off he goes with the chieftain and most of the tribe. We stayed, we like it here!”
“Good for you.” Fade nodded.
“Yes? Yes! It was the merchants I blame that fat bastard, Pendel Reeve. He came and said that he’d got something we needed then went on about a statue. Old thing it was, dead too, which is bloody odd for a statue. Part of his little cult, couldn’t tell you the name. I know they wants to exchange for it somewhere, couldn’t say where, and then take it to Keys where it’ll go to some island. Sorry, we wandered off half way through the discussion, have to open when it gets dark after all.”
“I… see…”
“Oh, magic you asked about? Brown of course. Decent stuff, not that I do much nowadays. Generally the rest of the boys find, repair or make this stuff. I sell it. Good line in this city.”
“The shaman..?”
“Oh yes, can’t say too much. But I can tell you this: he’s very odd. Often acts real strange, starts walking and moving different and uses odd names. He’s spent most of his life in the warbands, he’s pretty powerful I suppose. I stayed with the tribe well, you got to think of the long term haven’t you? Take this business. It’s a start but we’ll save the money and expand! Way to go now, can’t spend our whole lives in a hut can we? ‘Course not! Weaknesses? Tricky, he’s very driven but quite easily distracted. Wyrmish, see? He’s got this knack of finding things, see’s them in dreams. He’s a sucker for hearing things as well, that’s why he’s so well versed in this statue knows about walking gods and the like. You won’t tell him I said this, will you?”
“Don’t worry.” Fade smiled.
“Only I’d be in dreadful trouble! You’ve no idea how the others would frown on it. Woegrimm would probably kill me. Honestly, they have no idea of the advances the world has made! Oh, must you go? We were just about to put the tea on, got a blend from this little place in Cheapside. Lovely it is, very tidy.”
Fade made his excuses and left.
By Alan Morgan (CI5V10)