Completed A Trader's Word

[Alistair Wren]

Fields spanned for miles, drawing Alistair further into the embrace of the farmers who maintained them. The hems of his robes brushed the grass, their stems swaying back and forward beneath the caress of the wind. A big, string bag around his shoulder, he raised a hand to his forehead and squinted, his eyes drawn to the creaking of a sign in the middle of the field. The grass was the colour of a dead rabbit. Pale yellow, flecked with stems of brown, it rushed back and forward, tickling Alistair's knees as he walked towards the sign. He was still on the search for an amulet which could break the curse Vereshin had cast on the faculty and had uncovered only a single lead which revealed a name.

Anton.

An Elven trader who bartered across the land.

Top lip turned up, Alistair shoved his hand inside his hood and scratched his head, hoping Anton wouldn't expect payment in exchange for information. Alistair couldn't hunt, so he had spent all his gold on meat and new boots. He had nothing to trade with, so he hoped that Anton would accept work instead. Huffing, the young mage trudged through the grass and walked past the sign. Once he reached the top of the hill, he saw the inn nestled at its foot. Hills, barren as the corpse of a deer and stripped of the lively hue they once had entombed the building, the sun hidden by clouds. Alistair jogged down the hill and ran up to the front door, his chest heaving with all the strength his lanky frame could muster.

Straightening his robes, Alistair took a breath and walked up to the door. He knocked, but nobody answered, so he shoved it and found it was ajar. A bard played a flute in the tavern inside, it's smooth notes lifting the breeze from the dry grass. Dark and warm, there were no candles and the mood of the men sitting around the bar was as lively as the farmers suffering the losses of the drought in the area. Alistair withdrew. He was depressed just from looking at them. The wind thrust through the door and blew up his robes, slamming it shut behind him. Startled, he jolted up and darted towards the bar, where a woman was serving ale.

"Ahem, hello milday," he stammered, his voice monotonous and quiet as a ghost, "I'm looking for a man named Anton, is he here?" Blushing, Alistair smiled, his cheeks dented with dimples.

"In the back, love," the woman nodded in a thick, lower-class accent, "I'll sort you out with a room," tugging at the laces of her bodice, she gave it a yanked and turned away.

"Thank you," Alistair smiled. Slugging his bag over his shoulder, he turned around and walked down a narrow corridor, where all the doors were open, save for the very last one. A single candle flicked, brightening Alistair's peachy complexion. He stopped in front of the door and breathed in, then knocked.

"Erm, hello?" He called.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Taking up a mug right to his lips, Anton took a long sample of his drink provided by the place he was finding himself staying at, for the time being. Someone had been seeking, asked to meet. He had sent a message back, that he would be here. Of course, not without some kind of assurance on himself. With his only blade, and an easy escape, Anton trusted his faith in survival in this.

Setting the mug down to about his chest height, he let out a light gasp from the taste. It was a nice tingle it caused on his tongue, all the way down. A fizz all the way, that caused a sigh once it was all down. Sure it may have been cheap, but good nonetheless. Feet cast up upon the table, mug in hand, Anton looked quite relaxed. Till at the very least, a certain someone came in.

Peeking one of his closed eyes open, Anton looked towards the door. His spare hand was already moving towards his hilt of the blade, just in case.

"Do come in. Nice and easy, and all of that business" he calmly instructed to the one on the other side of the door. "Then we can get this underway, yes?"

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair had never trusted ravens ever since a dark mage had assumed the form of one to trick him. The door opened and he beheld a gaunt Elf, his tunic embroidered and fancy, conveying his taste for finer possessions. Anton's raven had messaged him justly with the location of the inn and he followed the coordinates provided by the stars across Alliria. Thankfully, the raven hadn't turned into a dark mage.

Closing the door behind him, Alistair smoothed out the front of his robes and stammered a bout a laughter. He tried to speak, but no words came out, so he coughed to clear his throat.

"Heh, yes," he chuckled.

Slugging his string bag off his shoulder, he carried it over to a chair and sat down, his throat parched from travel. The woman from the bar poked her head in, a horn in her hand.

"Here you go love, your room is ready," she chimed.

Alistair took the glass. Blushing, he stammered what sounded like a "thank you" and took a sip. Mead. His favourite. Looking down at the glass, his widened in a sudden panic when he realized he had no means of paying for his room and the food at the in. He took a breath, eyes darting and swallowed, then smiled as he looked up at Anton.

The barmaid curtsied and turned around, then walked out of the door and closed it behind her with a thud.

Alistair watched her leave. Once they were alone, he took a much needed sip of mead and turned around to face Anton.

"Lord Anton, I believe you have information in regards to something I am looking for," running his hands through his hair, Alistair swept back his hood and spoke, his voice lacking in nuance, but soft all the same. The horn in his hand, he sat with his feet apart and his wrist resting on his knee. Looking down, he swallowed a gulp of mead and tapped his fingernails along the side table, "now, here's the thing," he began, laughing slightly.

"I don't have any money," Alistair chuckled, "but I work hard and I'm willing to pay you in service," eyebrows raised, he looked up and nodded, his cheeks dented with deep dimples.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton did not dare remove his booted heels from off of the table. To him, it was his. He paid for this room, what furniture was in there he could put whatever he wanted on it. A chest, his dirty boots, a blood-soaked cloth. Didn't matter in his mind what it was. As soon as Alistair came inside through the door, all he did was regard them with a raised brow. Anton said nothing.

The barmaid, he had forgotten her name, or if she even told him, arrived to hand let Alistair know their room was prepared. How young must this boy have been, anyway? Was it even a boy or somehow just a really young looking man? Anton was banking on the former by how they acted.

"Right to it, are we?" he almost wanted to scoff at that and send him right on his way for having the guts to even say he had no money. But...well, Anton learned to see opportunity in the smallest of places. The most unlikely.

"Give me an idea on how you can pay me. Services? What services do you provide? Magic? Bodyguard? No, don't seem like a bodyguard...explorer of antiquities?"

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Alistair only stared at the muck on Anton's boots as he dirtied the table with them. If he had done that at university, the older mages would have torn him a new one. Once for putting his feet on the table and again for getting dirty in the first place. He chuckled, tugged at the clasp in the center of his chest and raised his horn to his lips, taking a good, long sip.

"Would you rather I told a joke?" Alistair laughed.

Hands resting on his knees, he hung his head and breathed in, the smell of the grass wafting through the broken window. The room was shabby and dark, entirely unfit for such a fine man as Anton was. Alistair found it quite cozy.

When Anton scoffed, Alistair immediately recoiled. Clasping his hands together, he leaned back in the chair and pouted like a dog that had just pissed on the floor.

Anton then asked him about what kind of services he could offer. Alistair sprung up, a smile coming to his face. He knew the answer to that question. Stammering, he tried to speak, but it felt like his throat was clamming up. A finger held to his mouth, he looked down, swallowed and took a breath.

"I am a mage from the College of Elbion and a highly skilled enchanter," Alistair stated, "I can imbue your wares with any spell you desire," eyebrows rising, he smiled. Talking about what he was good at always made him happy. Built his confidence, and boy did Anton kick that in the guts. Chin cupped, he looked at the ceiling with an airy bemusement about him, his soft, brown eyes like glass.

"I design the spells myself and can make sure they last, armor, swords, rings, pendents and arrows, you name it," nodding, he smiled widely, his crooked, browning teeth visible.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton tapped one of the heels against the table now and then. This was most interesting so far...almost as interesting as a random colorful beetle. A joke? He had heard plenty already, where this conversation started. "I already heard one. The lack of money you have." Anton dared a smirk at that wit of his.

But that was not what they were here for. They were here for a certain...item. An item the boy wished to obtain. A relic one may say. "A mage...explains partly why you are seeking this object. It has magical value. Question is, how much you willing to pay for it?"

Now Anton set his feet down, leaning over the table slightly. Watching with almost eager eyes, like a hawk and it's prey. "You can imbue my wares, sure. But what does that get me?"

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Hands on his knees, Alistair slammed his legs together and stifled a chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. Anton had a quick wit about him, a cruel, sharp wit, like the edge of a blade. Recoiling, Alistair rubbed his awkwardly and reached over for his horn of mead. He raised it to his mouth and took a sip, welcoming the soothing alcohol against his parched throat.

"Yes, that is rather funny, isn't it?" He blushed.

Anton had done little to hurt him, not yet anyway. A snarky wit was something Alistair could handle, but he kept his guard up regardless.

When Anton mentioned the object, Alistair's eyes widened and he tensed up in anticipation, as most mages did at the promise of a magical item, but this amulet was not a mere trinket. Mouth clenched shut, he breathed through his nose and listened to Anton describe the amulet.

At Anton's question regarding the price of the information he was offering, Alistair raised both eyebrows. He cocked his head to the side insolently and sipped his horn of mead.

"I already told you I have no money," he stated plainly, "but I can offer work," he nodded and raised the horn of mead to his lips. He took a sip, swallowed and set it down.

"With the spells with which I can enchant your wares, they will most certainly increase in value," entwining his hands, he held them to his diaphragm and cocked his head to the side, placing his feet apart from each other, "I can imbue any items you wish to sell, then we barter them together and you keep my portion of the price they sell for," he nodded.

"Then you tell me more about this amulet, that seems like a good deal, eh?" He unclasped his hands and nodded, hands held in the air.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton narrowed his eyes skeptically. Could he trust in their side of the deal? They said they were a mage, but they also looked young. Just how experienced were they? Too many things to think about...but a trader couldn't turn down something like this, the chance to have their items seem higher quality. Even if it were more so an illusion.

"Two items I consider of value. They will be higher value, whichever enchantment you see fit. As long as it works. And in return, I help you find this item. A chance of adventure, and a chance to see this item? Who could turn this down?" Anton asked, crooking a smirk.

Of course, he wanted to see it with all he had heard. Anton knew knowledge was valuable, and first hand knowledge more so. What he could do...

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

When Anton asked if his items would be of higher value once Alistair had imbued them, the young mage nodded.

"Yes, precisely," he said, the horn of mead in his hands.

"Looks like I'm going to be bartering across the land with this snooty Elf," he thought to himself. Shrugging, he smiled, perfectly okay with that. He was always keen for more adventures and it would bring him closer to the amulet he was seeking.

"I just hope I don't piss him off," Alistair thought, scratching the back of his head.

"Bring your items to my room and I shall make the preparations for the enchanting process," downing his horn of mead, Alistair placed it on the table and rose to his feet. He grabbed his string bag, slung it around his shoulder and walked to the door.

Gripping the edges of his hood, he pulled it up over his head and opened the door, the notes of the bard's lute bouncing off the walls of the corridor.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton was smiling more and more at this deal. Yes, this deal could go well. Excellently. It would be inspiring, a tale of awe. Perhaps even a tale to sell. In his mind, he laughed at the idea of that. Selling a story like that. That was if he lived through this.

He moved off to his own room, taking up what items he thought might be worth while. Once he came back to Alistair's room, he held two items; a pendant and a circlet. "That's what I got. Something people are appraised appearance wise for...what's the ideas you got for these?"

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Theme Music​

A splint in hand, Alistair muttered an incantation to himself as he lit a candle. The flame illuminated the room, bathing the wooden beams in a yellow balm. Shaking the splint, he slid it into a tinder box and beheld the two items on his desk. Bathed and refreshed, he wore a new robe, a thick, black one with golden trimmings and a round clasp at his neck. Reaching into his big, string bag, he pulled out a charm with an emerald at the center, which he raised to his lips and kissed.

Anton stood in the door, the door closed behind him. The charm in hand, Alistair waved him over to a chair at the other side of the room.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, my lord, I'm just preparing the items," he nodded, a hand held out. Voice soft and monotonous, he struggled to raise it above the draft that was blowing through the crack in the diamond-shaped panes of the window.

"I'm going to imbue the pendent with a spell that tells the wearer when a dangerous presence is near, I think that should be useful for a woman who would like to purchase it," he turned around and nodded, speaking assuredly.

Looking over his shoulder, Alistair faced the circlet, "as for the circlet, I think a seduction spell might be attractive to young, rich nobles, it will make the wearer appear more charming while they are speaking, good for parties and other occasions in court," hand held to his lips, he nodded, satisfied with his ideas for the spells. Breathing in, he rubbed his hands and walked over to the desk, the charm dangling between his fingers.

Standing above the desk, Alistair held a hand above the pendant. He coughed, cleared his throat, then began to sing.

"Object that is divine, receive my voice by the air which carries it," he chanted, the words rolling off his tongue. Hand shaking, he spoke to the pendant, drawing it to the sound of his voice and comforting it into a sense of trust. He chose to draw on his power from the draft blowing through the window, which carried the properties of the charm to the pendant, directed by the lyrics he sung. He creased his hand, his fingers folding downward as they dripped power, filling the pendant with its' breadth.

"Accept the power by which I grant thee," Alistair sung and kissed the charm, then held his hand above the circlet, "By the wrist which wears this object, grant them the manner of fine speech," he sung.

Looking over his shoulder, Alistair turned around to make sure Anton was not turning up his nose or anything. He always got nervous when chanting in front of other people, and not all of them were as accepting of the practices of mages. He smiled, took a breath and turned around, holding his hand above the pendent.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton had seen magic at hand before. This seemed more ritualistic, it surprised him slightly, despite his family line and their knowledge in magic. Not that he paid much attention to all of that. Once inside the room, he closed the door behind. Just in case anyone had followed. These would be priceless, he was sure.

"Detection and seduction...you have me intrigued for certain" he said quietly after setting down the items. Then, he sat on the floor and watched from there. It was interesting, to say the least. Chants, as if speaking to the items themselves.

"Well....that was something. I expected more glowing and symbols. But that'll do. Now, I gotta keep my end of the deal, don't I?" he asked, holding a hand out for the items. He couldn't wait to try them out. "Are they one use?"

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Hand held above the circlet, Alistair's attention quickly snapped around to Anton, who interrupted him during his enchanting process to comment about what he expected. Frustrated, Alistair glared, his brow furrowed and the charm dangling between his fingers. He didn't like being interrupted, especially when he was working.

"I'm not finished yet!" He snapped, then grumbled and turned around to continue enchanting the circlet.

Navy eyes flaring, Alistair muttered to himself as he found his concentration. Leaning down, he grabbed a jug of water off the desk and used it to fill a silver basin. He picked up the circlet, lowered beneath the surface and sang as he did so.

"Crown which bears the voice of the wearer, enhance their manner with charm," he chanted, feeding power into the water. Runic symbols glowed on the surface in hues of blue and green as they received the command Alistair chanted. The circlet responded to the spell, the charms in it's center glowing, bathing the room in a teal glow, "ensure it's memory lasts," Alistair sung.

Tendrils of blue and green dripped off his fingers, weaving the command he chanted into the circlet. Once the item was imbued, he waved a hand above the water, erasing the properties of the last spell. It would not to do to merge the properties of a detection spell with a charm spell! He picked up the pendant and lowered it into the water, the took a few steps back and raised his hand,.

"By the breast which supports this charm, enhance their perception of all that draws near," he sung, feeding energy into the water. The runic symbols glows purple and swirled around, granting the individual who wore the charm with a higher sense of danger. Withdrawing his hand, he lowered one finger and fed the power of the spell into the water, which soaked it into the pendant, "grant them protection and allow them to sense thy foe before they strike," he chanted.

"Ensure their sense of closure," he recited the final lyric and dripped the remainder of the spell into to the water, ensuring the wearer would remain calm while wearing the pendant, even when danger was near.

Withdrawing his hand, Alistair kissed the charm. The runic symbols faded and died as the spell took hold and the enchanting process was complete. Shoving the charm back into the collar of his robe, Alistair plucked the pendant out of the water and set it beside the circlet. Satisfied, he nodded to himself and turned around to face Anton. He grabbed a rag off the table and used it to dry his hands, sighing with the satisfaction of a job well done.

"There, the circlet and pendent are both enchanted with their respective spells," he said, sweeping back his hood.

Anton then asked if the items could only be used once.

"No they can be worn multiple times, but like all magic, the spell will wear off more quickly the more times they are used," Alistair shook his head.

"We sell these first, then you tell me more about the amulet," he smiled modestly.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton was rather surprised at the reaction at that. Was he that much in a rush? No, Anton didn't believe himself to being an impatient being. Rather than make a comment in return, the elf trader sat back instead while waiting still. Watching as the pendant was net to be worked upon. Raising a brow slightly at some of what was being said, at some of his chanting and words used.

Once it was done, he had expected more, expected to be cut off and told it was not yet done. Nothing more was said, and soon Alistair got to explaining how they worked and how they were not in fact one use.

"Multiple uses....good, that is good. If it were one use I may have people chasing me down" Anton murmured in response to that. He was glad for that fact. "Right to the selling? That could take time. Finding the right customer, putting it out there that these are available. Have you worked in this line of trade? No, of course you have not, you would know."

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Drying his hands, Alistair flung the rag aside and ran a hand through his dark brown hair, sweeping back his hood. Anton seemed to be pleased with the spells, claiming that his reputation would suffer if they could only be used once. Leaning on the desk, Alistair picked up a horn of mead and took a sip, the long sleeves of his robes tucked into the sash around his waist.

He laughed, "yes, we wouldn't want that," looking down, he blushed.

As Anton explained what the process of selling the items would involved, Alistair swallowed a gulp, "you fool, you should have known better!" The thought assailed his mind. Navy eyes growing wide, he rubbed his arm awkwardly and shifted his eyes, his cheeks turning scarlet.

"No, I haven't, forgive me, my lord," he stammered.

Alistair knew as much about trading expensive goods as Anton knew about enchanting them, it would seem.

He laughed, "very well, my lord, tell me what you know about the amulet now and we will set out in the morning to sell these," nodding, he waved to the pendent and the circlet on the desk.

Anton

 

[Anton]

Anton was a big fan of deals, for sure. Something that came to mind, when looking at the circlet and pendant an idea did come to mind. Looking them over, the elf for a moment thought on perhaps a way for both of them to get what they wanted...that and Anton only knew of rumor. Traders always followed rumor, even with risk.

He was humored by the term 'my lord' and chuckled at it. Yet he said nothing more on it either. "Traders work off risk and reward, as well. For where this amulet you want is? Rumor has it that it is off the coast. Up north. Belgrath, if you know of it. Not many know of this amulet, so whispers of it are quiet."

He sighed a bit quietly in thought. It was an idea that he had, something they could do... "Why do we not go together? See this power offered by the amulet?"

Alistair Wren

 

[Alistair Wren]

Hands clasped in front of his diaphragm, Alistair listened intently as Anton told him what he knew in regards to the location of the amulet. He pulled his sleeves out of his sash and sat down, picking up his horn of mead.

"Belgrath..." His voice trailed off, "yes, I know it," he nodded, his chin cupped in thought.

When Anton suggested that the two of them go together, Alistair withdrew, preferring to search for the amulet on its own. Still, he needed to help Anton barter the items he had enchanted, and it was a chance at adventure and seeing places he had never seen before.

"Yes, that sounds like a grand idea," Alistair smiled.

Raising his horn of mead, he chinked it against Anton's and downed what was left in the glass. Setting it down, he picked the candle off his desk, held it to his lips and blew out the flame with a swift puff.

The End​

Anton