Chapter 42 - Almanac goes shopping

Almanac strolled down the street, winking at the occasional girl, glaring at the odd rude gesture towards his pigman friends.

"They don't like my kind here," Hoggar rumbled, his huge mace sitting on his shoulder seemingly begging for use. "Just wish they'd try something so I can put them in the ground already."

"And have the guards use it as an excuse to drag you away? Not likely, keep it together big boy," Alamanac grinned, but his insides felt like water and his life in the edge of a very fine line.

Why did no one ever take thing seriously but him? Sure he fooled around, but that was his persona, the inspiration the Golden Goose Guild and public service to ladies everywhere. That didn't mean everyone could go swaggering around thinking themselves invincible, for armour or no, the tip of the spear that was the law could pierce even the hardest hide.

And to speak nothing of the following shaft of the spear, the will of the rich, and what ending to the matter might earn them the most power...

"Just keep out of trouble," Almanac muttered ruefully, "you too Arti. Your kind is a rare commodity here, better not to test what a human will or won't do if you get my meaning."

Halting his pitter flattering steps, Artis turned his little fuzzy head to look up with those gleaming dark eyes.

A sharp aura pierced Alananc's chest, a simmering rage that billowed off the little furbolg dense as honey and dark as space.

"I agree with the talking pig, should the need for blood arise, I will leave the streets overflowing with the juices of their owners and the skies filled with the ash of their burning homes all while a chorus of screams - no, no...my apologies. I understand and will comply." The fire winked out from the little furbolg's eyes, and when Almanac could breathe again he found the street vacated, as townsfolk hid wherever they could and the furbolgs intense bloodlust receded like a great invisible tide.

"You there, are you, adventurers, by chance?" said an excitable woman with huge glasses and a bundle of maps and scrolls under each arm. She had messy brown hair cascading into curls on all sides, a rather squeaky voice and a complete lack of concern for her own safety as she came right up to them and stared Almanac right in the eye - before she fell to her knees and grabbed Taki in a big hug.

"He's so cute! What is he - a bearman? Oh - no he's a Furbolg isn't he?" Taki's growls turned to sighs as she scratched behind his ears, the previously murderous Furbolg Patriarch became a simpering mess in the stranger's hands. Peering behind her Almanac spied a trio of bruisers, humans all with more muscle than sense and a dark look in their eyes that said they'd happily kill whoever they needed too.

"Don't mind them, they're with me. Come you lot, if you're looking for work then my store has the highest paying contracts in Oldeth!" Dumping her scrolls and maps in one of the thug's arms, she held Taki's hand and led them down the street.

"We don't have time, lady. But if you could point us to a certain Antique store-"

"There's only one in all of Oldeth now," the woman grinned, "just one. The Antique store, all others have been taken into our management. They can't compete, you see? We pay the highest rates to have adventures fetch priceless artifacts from tombs, dungeons, ruins and monster lands all over Alandria!"

Sceptical, Almanac's mouth fell open as they came upon a street marked as 'Antique St' and was filled with row after row of gleaming storefronts. Dragonscale armour, Cryptlrod cloth, Ancient Redeemer Rune Stones, Lizardman folk art, gemstones, weapons, pots and pans. Everything was incredible, from every culture imaginable, and with a price tag to match. Nobles flocked from store to store like rats, armfuls of purchases in their servants arms, their bodyguards watching the patrolling thugs warily.

"Don't mind them, adventurers, we made a deal for protection is all. When you have rarities in such quantity as this it makes sense, and it means these misfortunate souls need not return to a life of crime either. Here's our stop, the World Headquarters for Antiques, Mysteries and Unidentifiables!"

With a title like that Alamanac could appreciate why the gigantic seven-floor store known as The Antique Store had a simpler nickname. Adventurers streamed in and out by the dozen, most covered in brand new steel armour, three times thicker than the usual, and without the crack of deformity or common smiths either. Each seemed a masterwork, but so many, how had they the master craftsmen to produce such quality?

"Do you make weapons and armour around here?" Hartog muttered, staring at the great number of high-quality steel equipped adventurers with jealousy, then turned his sad eyes to the heavy old iron plate he wore.

"We trade for them of course, The Antique store has a partner in New Leningrad that makes steel equipment at an incredibly low price! More importantly, we have the sole right of trade for Oldeth, so if you want cheap gear of incredible quality at unbeatable prices, you'll only be able to get it by going through us!"

Entering the first-floor Alamanac's mouth fell even lower. Magic crystals were studded behind magical barriers, ancient wizard staves, spell tomes, summoning clothes and bright magical spirits and familiars too. He drifted in the direction of the spellcasting area before he knew it, and immediately joined a conversation with a great many other excited wizards, mages and warlocks.

Hartog was insnared instead by an armoury filled with shining steel, but not just regular steel. Dragonsteel, Cobalt, Mandrake scale, Runed Steel, in heavy plate, light armour, chainmail and designs of the like Hartog had never seen. Knight's plate that was so easy to move in one could sprint, currently obsessed over by a gaggle of Oldeth knights, a blade that had a stiff spine and only one sharpened side to maximise the cutting power of the Razer edge that was being stared at by a rather hopeful orc. The orc had bright red skin and bleached white tusks, but checking his pouch managed to pull at a great handful of gold that a servant soon traded for the one-sided blade.

Hartog drifted into the masses, admiring all the equipment and making easy conversation with human nobility and mercenary alike.

"And you? Want to see what gear we could offer a berserker?" the woman's eyes gleamed.

"No," Taki said flatly, "I'm looking for Antiques actually. Artifacts of a particular style."

"Aren't we all?" the woman said wistfully, "but do tell, what has caught your eye?"

"I am looking for anything related to a black web, and spiders. It's a shame, you haven't seemed to have any in all the displays I've seen so far."

The woman froze.

"Do you...happen to own any such relic?" she whispered, several nearby servants, bringing out free drinks, food, they ushered Arti into another room, tried to separate him -

"Leave him be! Furbolgs are introverts by nature, your annoying him!" the woman flared, other patrons giving her odd looks, but the servants vanished nonetheless. Breathing easier, Taki nodded his head in thanks.

"Do you...have what I seek or not?" Taki said through gritted teeth, the sounds of so many creatures talking, so much visual stimulation, so many smells, glinting objects...it was giving him a headache. He could barely feel the love of the earth in here either as if the artificial city of the humans had eroded the spiritual energy right from the land.

"Taki," the woman said gently, and steered him to a quiet corner, "I've heard of what you're looking for. But it's always purchased, no matter the price. You won't find any here, although if you have anything 'they' want to sell, you'll be richer than a noble come sundown."

"Where are they then, the people buying these things?"

"Better to sell through us, it isn't safe to-"

"Where?" Taki may have been much smaller, but he managed to stare the woman down.

"Fine," she sighed, "the Grand Casino. Venom is the guy who runs it, most lavish place I've ever seen. And for whatever reason, Venom is absolutely obsessed with anything spider related, valuing even simple Spider related artifacts the same as high-tier adventurer equipment. Where are you going?"

Taki paused, and looked back at her, "thank you for your help. Me and my companions better be going now."

"Wait, won't you be coming back? I was so excited to speak with you - I heave herbal teas, wouldn't you like to try some?" the woman spoke with hones eyes, her hands tight around Taki's own.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, I need to be going now."

"My name is Elizabeth, please come again at any time. I really would like to hear about you and your people, even just a little," Elizabeth smiled brightly, yet her smile fell away as her eyes flickered to a dark-skinned man in a deep green suit staring at her from a higher level of the store.

"Farewell Elizabeth, I might come again."

Collecting Almanac and Hartog, Arti pulled them into the streets and told them what he had found.

Putting away a crystal with a small fire crystal in it Almanac nodded, "we'll go back to base and inform them of what we learned then. And muster up some money too, with the goods there we cold really increase our power levels by a ton. Include the fact they don't have much-enchanted stuff, and we could start an insanely lucrative trade route between Oldeth and Tariak."

"The plate too, I want our Tank classes geared in that steel as soon as possible. We should be able to get the coin to see it done, and it' worth it. My mace made way less damage than I expected in the test piece, and when they showed me what happens when you layer chainmail and a thick woollen gambeson beneath..." Hartog shook his head and whistled. "I want it for our guild members because I guarantee it WILL save lives."

"And the Casino?" Taki grumbled, "It's where we can learn more, I think we should go immediately."

"Hold on there Taki, that's a serious thing you're suggesting there. Right into the enemies fortress? And no to mention it sounds high-class, we'll need fine clothes, some lessons on how to work with nobles and...an invitation."

Taki's growl only grew.

"Let's report what we found first, and if we need fine clothes we can just come back here. Wouldn't you like a chance to talk to your girlfriend a bit more?" Almanac's smile faded as Arti grew several times his size into his bezerker form, and stared down at Almanac with raw fury in his eyes.

"Do not look down on me, human."

Gulping, Alamanc smiled away his concerns and promised never to make light of the little furbolg again. When Arti returned to his usual fuzzy state, the crowd clapped, apparently thinking Almanac had performed some kind of magic trick.

In a foul mood, Arti stomped all the way back to base, Almanac careful not to make light of the furbolg again. Even if Arti did look forward to seeing Elizibeth again, he had really enjoyed his teas back in the old days, as a shaman they were a large part of his culture. Perhaps he would teach her a thing or two about them - to make sure she wasn't making light of the culture of course - and perhaps he might bring some of the teas he brought in his travel bag too.