Traveller Trove of Lost

Everyone has that place in their town they avoid during set times and for just because it never safe to. Be it may a alleyway that runs behind houses, a market area that has infamous stories of horror or just it is a unassuming and uncomfortable place to walk near.

The Island of Mage's has many of these strange craved holes dotting between or behind places. You would sometimes assume only the inhuman types among the veils would only be able to travel through such hazard sections. But do to not be fooled, there are plenty of such places across the world. From myth within the community or simply unspoken norms dictate to not go there a 12am.

These free spaces are where many of the ghost types lurk. No doubt that most you will find are demon lords, hunters of oath of above gold ranking and even the Damned or Clothus. Places that are connected by hidden doorways for spirit crossing and make for the best way to set up stalls for lost items, cursed objects or spell component oddities.

It is said that the universe needs a few these poke holes to allow the amalgamation of what is called the 'land of the living' to work. Doorways that release energies to free flow into other sections. A symbiosis of Gaia. It is said that the seven seas are all one large mass - even the one land locked Caspian Sea. Just an example of how far linked Sigil is to our world as we know it.

That is of course as the dead are able to see and do, no living man without aid can learn these truths. Be it a curse placed on you or a divine gift that protects you in times of passing near. Primal instinct to avoid these odd spaces.

It are certain stretch of these strange eclipsed corridors that draws the most strangest of attentions. A small alley hidden among the small cobbled streets of the once must go for pilgrim walkers. It's not the famous one unlike the others, just off cut for trash bins for business waste to go.

It not that fair from York Minister. Small medieval houses warped bend wood of age still a miracle of standing. Nearby the alley that is inspiration for Diagon Alley if you must know. A very popular place for history or TV viewers to what could be the film sets of their favourite shows.

The alley that were interested is always in shadow, unassuming and doesn't actually physically exist according to the many living or work in the area. It often only ever shows itself in the presents of dark magic or dreaming wonderers.

The most perfect of clients to trade with and whom will not scream at the sight of weird. Lavished in drapes of shimmering iridescent folds that make up what little of the stall table surface is exactly. right up against a wall where the 2 dimensional sketching of the owner hides on.

There is hung three very strange parchments papers at the head height, only able to read off them if you knew the languages of the dead or slayers. They were proof of permits to carry stocks, as such anyone whom happened to cross a death gods last stand could come forwards to return the syth and book. These permits showed allowance of cursed objects of the nightmare lands to be gave in. There is such permit that showed their above god rank as a myth status hunter of oath.

A strange souled spirit whom didn't originate from this event of history as the known clients around them. A peaceful and welcomed peddler whom seeks to return items from lost soul tomes. A monster whom is actually a human soul, another trapped in a complicated situation of his own and had became free flowing to how it has became.

"You need some equipment and some metal replacements, Copper." The scaled strange crow coos at resting on the shoulders of a rusting shape, the carpets of sea life have ate away at some the vial sections of itself, "Thankfully I know just the perfect sort to help us. A strange fella but a good heart. He fixed my wing once, and i bet he can fix you too. Not new but able." the scaled crow hops about with a slight swaying, a wing at directing to the long stall down the bottom. Past trash bins and stacked years of lost and eclectic items.

"Mind the shield, the last fool simply ran off in panic." The soft tones was a little rattled and throaty. Nearly garbled words.

"Mr Deer mask, I came to help my buddy here with his rust. I am quiet happy to pay in death coins for any measure to get this guy working smoother. Not asking for any new stuff." the live sketch of graffiti pulls out from the drawing world and into mist, soon sizzling or bubbled into what is indeed a deer skull. The alters hung many strange stone beads, metal charms or the occasional rat or bird skull. the threads matted like a spiderweb of cheese cloth, veiling their eye sockets. the thin stick claws or many jointed fingers came to pose at hovering around the objects lining the alley. At observation, the alleyway's graffiti walls had also been display of items that didn't belong to the land of the living or been the very rib cage of this unorthodox being.

"What model or make are, if you do not mind me asking?"

"I was built as part of a series that protected bubble shelters." the deer skull tilts in thinking about this deeply, "I were only a simple grounds keeper."

"A newborn then... You are new to how things work and unaware of the curelity of times changing. A lot in you scales to be worrying for, Scale Crow." The monsterous figure has gathered a pile of strange pieces and brought out a a tall machinics iron draws of tools. Most importantly was a stool, "I am happy to see to it that we can fix your machine freind. In the timescape I come from, machine and man acted no different to each other. Some of my closet freinds were AI."

"How rare of you to talk of your personal life." the scale crow sits on the stall table overlooking the work. Walked out from within a wall was a human shape in bandages, whom go to working on the removal of disconnected sections. A handy human man whom was good with knowing what parts were considered 'painful' to a machines inner workings.

"I have a interesting request in return of helping... as I wish not to ask for payment in coins. Nor would I impose the cost of the replacement parts. I ask a dangerious request, as I am unsure of what state the being I want to contact is in." At least he was down to the bar circuit wires and metal frame. Able to look about in watching something within the wiring and make soft hovers in area that needed magnetic polarizing.

"You are seeking this timelines Ender?" the scaled crow asked gentle and at the wrong language to say such name.

"Indeed. I have many objects of interest to them... I wish to return such items back to where they belonged. These items are not for the public to have awareness of and worse is my fear of what gods would do with them. I can't even trust the death gods of the return of syths that... well... and books. A very matter but I have truth in you and this machine tin man to deleiver my worries to the lord protector of this timeline. I just hope that this timescape is the one I have been seeking."

"You would be interested to know this then... because like you... I am not from this timescape. Nor is tin man here. We are just lost fella of sigils crossings." Scaled crow cooes soft back, "In my information gathering among the birds, I learned something very good or terribble news."

"Name the price..." the deer mask hollowly huffs.

"No price... Because your fixing Copper here." All striaghtened up and proud at pose to speak. stopped with the deep stare of some strangers walking this way, "I will have to wait as it of no nose to god followers." the crow landing on the top of Coppers head. there is pause of fixing work, Protective in covering hover and shielding unaware humans from turths.

"Welcome to the the trove of lost, no deal is done in souls, alterations or names." The deer mask face is slide over the humanoid in bandages, walking softly around to stop them from entry at a set point. The stall of cloth magically appearing at the lip edge in front of the bandage wraps, be it a safer version with no hard truths on show. Not even the paper permits that no human should understand.

"I need a refill of grave dirt, bone dust, rooted wick and anything at interest to my lord." Quite a Celtic traditional outfit of druidical practices, complete with how the request was asked for, it were how a living follower should know of such items by faith practise. The payment is equally as offerings from such a god of nature would give. Corpse bone fragments of myths Celtic creatures, pelts and a cooler of meats.

"A word of warning about one your requested amounts." each was of such small amounts but one... which is the grave soil, "This is highly potent, as is all of this. Yet the more dangerous of this any possible cross contamination. When you use such, only be for burning rituals. The oppressions the contains in this soil is not balanced with the realm around you... so be careful. It is all I ask. This is strong enough alone to summon strange things from dark corners. Be it that attention of the creeps."

"You're warning is highly valued, peddler deer skull." the voice of a god that can't be seen. Left as soon as they arrived, and that of back to focus in working on the machine man. None other god followers seemed to come by after that.

"We are currently in the timescape of a Elder Ender, well... a Elder ender whom has passed on this title to a new learner, a flex of timescape that is continued the work of the Elder." The Deer face freezes with a complexity of gestures following after, as will as a gurgle of many sounds that could have been language. The two had not understood what it was all about but eventually there is a jitter of sudden words that do. A sort of cursed prayer.

"We should see about trying to fit in with this world and its many connections. As it seems a nexus of many timelines are being connected here in order to fix any broken parts. Its as if the very cloth of their time is relying on the many broken others to create patterns of history for itself." The scaled Crow continues, "We will deliver our message to the Elder if he is able to take up such words." Copper nodding in agreement of this promise and having it all recorded carefully into memory to be retold later. Even the long prayer of the deer mask was included.

At this moment, what was on their minds was each beings idea of how to go about finding a place among a sort of society, while hiding truth of being non-existent to the living world or this timeline of events as of yet.