Private Tales Merchants Upon The Road

[Sam Fairbridge]

A scant mile from Alliria proper, the road was wide and welcoming, well maintained to afford ease of passage the various merchants, mercenaries, citizens and ne'er-do-wells that found themselves upon the path to and from the city proper. The sky yielded a brilliant blue which had just shifted from drizzling lightly upon pathway, the stippled droplets on the road quickly evaporating in the high heat of midday. Fresh winds that carried the faint scents of city living that mingled with the freshness of the day rushed out as if exiting the gates of the Alliria itself.

A gloved hand made intricate gesture in arcane pattern as tireless bootfall continued across the road, a shimmer of blue crackling subtly as it was dismissed from existence. A simple field to deny the drizzle a solitary drop to touch the one known as Sam Fairbridge.

Such spellcraft had been the most recent cantrip they had learned, and dutifully they had mastered it in short order. In comparison to the complicated arcane weave that was required to summon the power that their former master, Balestro, sequestered in book and scroll and device, it was a paltry matter. Yet the new cantrip had been meticulously practised and mastered, as was the custom of the unseen servant turned sentient.

Wide brimmed hat gave small rippling as the wind did carry strong. Beneath such brim were white lights that carried the patient intelligence from the pitch black void that could be called a face. They had no shame or compunction about their appearance, for experience had not loaned them such aversion from those more mortal in appearance. Yet they minded his business well enough from the heavy carts with fresh faced merchants and farmers who trundled past their slow yet certain inexhaustible step. Their own baggage, a hefty backpack and swayed gently with each footfall, luggage of personally scribed scrolls and some artefacts of their former master that they had grown less attached to as mastery had been attained of their meaning.

Within their gloved right hand was a quarterstaff that placed firmly on the ground, yet no hint of needing the device for walking could be detected in their gait. Within the twisted head of the quarterstaff the swirling winds did coalesce as sensory information denied by Sam's nature were gleaned, and some more esoteric to the regular being of the realms.

With such lumbering knowledge within their pack, a staff to guide them true, and the wit and desire to learn and drive their journey forward, they continued upon the path. Sam made good yet slow progress in their venture towards that place which might yield further knowledge to their endless appetite to understand the arcane, in all it's beautiful and ghastly forms, at all degree and level of understanding.

Sam looked to their glove, which to their vision still had after images of tendrils of magic from the cantrip so recently dismissed. Sam clasped at the wisps playfully as they tread on, and said quietly to themselves as they peered at their hand, “What next to be at my beck and call? What secret to unlock, what gesture to master?”

Jel Moriah

 

[Jel Moriah]

A scant mile from Alliria proper, the road led to his next place, the next area in which to sell his wares and search for a place to settle. He tugged and pulled and heaved along his cart, wondering who he would next come across and whether they would break the admittedly monotonous sound of ever persistent footfall along the stone. Looking up to the sky, he felt the rain on his face and sighed, only persevering thanks to the heat exuding from his familiar, owing to their - Ha - hellish heritage.

Still though, it wasn't enough. Reaching into his bag, he took out an umbrella and opened it, watching as his cover grew to the size of a boulder. Thanks to it's material, though, it was about twenty extra pounds of cloth, not metal. Still, though, the wind was great, and he struggled to hold on as the umbrella whipped around in the wind. He could handle such things, though. Jel Moriah was used to hard sells, and this environment wasn't even close to his least favorite choice to peddle in.

Even more motivation came as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, noting a person walking down the road. Dressed in the age old garb fitting the human idea/stereotype of a wizard, they seemed appropriately mysterious for such a gloomy situation. Picking up the pace, he would hold a hand to his face and take it away moments later, observing as the last parts of his body transformed from the normal brick red to a perfectly human tan.

Medis Ilusa (or Medium Illusion in Common) is so useful, he'd think, observing his now blue eyes in the falling, crystal clear rain. Minor Illusion couldn't handle anything more than an image, and Major Illusion is quite hard to study, so he found a common ground, namely Medis Ilusa. The spell could handle small movements, and stuck to Jel so that he could preform tasks as a human in the more bigoted settlements. For example, Vel Anir was a big city, but having to be human was definitely a requirement that counted as a pain in the ass.

Given his latest patron was a wizard and Jel had a few trinkets of the arcane kind in possession, he used another spell, one less powerful and less helpful. Det Magi (or Detect Magic in common) was taught to me by a wizard who had gotten a pretty good deal, but mine is faulty. See, he had been taught the real thing, but with less of an aptitude for magic than the cheery mage, his Detect only told him magic was present and where, not
anything that could be qualified as information the spell was usually used for.

When Jel gazed upon the (unsuspecting) customer, he realized that perhaps going human might be less relatable than he thought, for in that moment he saw that the figure in front of him seemed to be made of...was that magic. Hmm, now this was intriguing. "Dia Pell" (or Dispel in common) he'd say in a mutter, touching his arm and watching a warm and comforting red tinge spread from the point of contact.

Yes, he could handle extended time disguised as a human, but given he had no shame in his existence, it always felt far more...right to be in his own skin. Luckily, The creature’s footsteps were lumbering like a guard making rounds, slow and ever-consistent. Thanks to that, the merchant quickly caught up and began making pace with the robed person, trying to start a conversation.

Luckily, he managed to catch the only words the magic man had spoken, jumping on his only perceived opportunity ”I’ve learned the very world is at the feet of magic, but you must earn it.” He’d say, holding out an umbrella that at this point covered him, the cart, and the wizard as well. “Say, what are you doing to keep the rain out like you were?” He’d ask, genuinely curious to know.

Sam Fairbridge

 

[Sam Fairbridge]

Sam regarded the question before regarding the visage, as if the question were posed instead by a voice on the ether as test. The staff did not waver in it's rhythm as Sam responded promptly, as if this was a matter of rote memorisation to be delivered to exam question in classroom. So used to responding to the beck and call of their former master was such a request delivered upon before the matter of whom it might be issued from was considered. The pattern of behaviour instinctual and firmly engrained within Sam's psyche.

Soft the words that served itself upon the silver platter of knowledge.

"Rudimentary yet structurally pleasing charm. Aversive, sealing the frame to shy the slide of availing rain. Can be bolstered in theory to become truly hydrophobic. Yet to test that aspect however, had no need to submerge you understand," Sam stated, their head swivelling at the moment the final word was uttered, the two dots like sunlight at the end of darkened tunnel, distant. Sam's gait did not change for virtue of their incorporeal blessings.

To the eyes of one wreathed in the detection of magics, Sam was firmly made and coddled in the stuff, both in cloth, the shards of crystals saddled by satchel worn at their belt, emanating true from the bag they so lumbered without toil, and what visage of a face could be seen from beneath pointed hat.

Sam thought on the words so spoken before the question and cocked his head in subtle motion. Those eyes did not blink, but rose in illumination and dimmed as thought danced in the dark.

"Earn the world? Or earn magic? What mean you," Sam asked plainly, their voice wavering in confident and volume for virtue of the troubling implication of either possibility.

And then those bright eyes upon the familiar, a thing bound to serve by arcane compunction.

"How earn you of bound...companion, if not by commanding it, demanding it, and willing service from another. And lo," Sam said, no irritation within their voice, yet somewhat cautious for virtue of their logic, "you seem to have earned some knowledge from me, freely, all from simple question. At least...in part," Sam said, as their mind considered if they was apt enough to scribe a scroll to instruct the arcane wit of another to perform the hydro shield they had so recently worn about themselves.

And perhaps make profit in the process. Or at the very least, exchange.

 

[Jel Moriah]

Jel listened to the figure’s lesson as they continued to walk, a bit weirded out but also admiring the way his new companion’s path never wavered, not even for the sake of conversation. Suddenly, though, they did, and Jel found himself accidentally staring into eyes that had but one feature: Their brilliant sheen of all white. Oh, he had happened upon someone quite special, alright. Inside his head, Jel crafted a response, one designed to keep the conversation going as long as possible. “Well, less like instructions than I had hoped, but you were willing to share, which is nice. I often find the most inwardly pleasant people do so, and you seem to be no different,” He’d respond, giving the magic person a cordial look.

Upon noticing that they looked rather confused, Jel took it upon himself to try to elaborate, already forming an adequate response seconds before the arcane person asked for more detail himself. “As for what I meant, I tried to say that you must earn magic, because magic allows you to move and manipulate the world and its forces like no other skill can. It’s why I particularly value my more magical customers.”

“For example, even something as small as this..” “Medis Ilusa” He’d say, turning awayand touching a hand to his face for a brief moment before turning back, his visage now that of a human with blue eyes, tanned skin, and brown hair. Plus, not a trace of the distinctive horns that came from his demon side. “..counts as manipulating the very force of reality, doesn’t it? I’d sure as hell hope some random schmuck wouldn’t have to spend only five minutes to figure something like this out. Myself, it’s been about two years and I’m just starting to get this spell consistent.”

The arcane person’s endless eyes next snapped to Jel’s familiar, and the tief chuckled, holding out his arm. “Come down, Kierrh. Greetings are good manners.” Making a sound that was almost like a groan, the imp did as he was told. Quickly noticing that Moriah now held a good sized piece of jerky in his hand, Kierrh began waiting respectfully and happily received the food in return. “Bound to service might be a bit too grandiose. He is not connected to me at all, in fact.This sounds a bit conceited, but in truth it’s just that he knows as well as I do how much better being around me makes his life. Like anything else I do as a merchant, you might call our connection an..exchange, after a fashion.”

At the wizard’s next statement, Jel realized that perhaps the magic person had not meant to share as freely as he did. Jel flicked his hand up and the imp went flying up to hover nearby as he chose some decently opinionated yet most likely factual words to speak. “In part indeed, but worry not, you still have the leverage of actually knowing how to execute the rainshield, while I do not. Anyway, by giving up something, you now have something, if I may dare to be so frank, slightly more interesting than the sound of your footsteps to converse with.”

“Now, I was hoping we could perhaps pause for a second to answer the admittedly less philosophically leaning questions, if that is at all of interest. My name is Jel, and I’m a wandering trader seeking new business in Allirian settlements. As for you, what’s your name? What do you seek from this region?” Jel’s life as a merchant had taught him many things, and many lessons. People can be bought using self-interest, Others may not like you for no real reason, and you have to be able to give to better be able to get. Besides, this conversation is the most fun he’s had on the trek so far, so Jel decided to continue it whether the talks ended in a sale or not.

Sam Fairbridge

 

[Sam Fairbridge]

'How much better being around me makes his life.'

Those choice words in particular rendered in Sam a terrible wrenching feeling, a sense of the past lashing out in far more severe tone. Sam's eyes dimmed at hearing them, as if shying away from such meaning, their hand firmed upon his staff for a moment, his shoulders tensing. While far softer in register and less scathing than words uttered in their past life, it was a pattern of thought Sam recognised. Their former master had thought such of them when Sam had been an indentured servant, without the sentience they so possessed now, but still, with something. Something that was dismissed as irrelevant, and indebted towards those who commanded him.

Sam spoke tersely from this point on, on guard for some trickery that might render them a servant again to this one. The suspicion however grounded in reality played upon their mind, Sam's left hand gingerly drifting near the crystals they bore in satchel.

Sam looked to the imp, and wondered if it would share such opinion as was espoused by the master of it's life being better for such servitude.

“My name is Fairbridge,” Sam said slowly, as if merely uttering their name might be a trap unto itself to ensnare them.

Finding this was not the case after a few moments, he continued.

“I too am a trader. Scrolls I scribe, arcane devices I ply. I seek further expansion and understanding of the Art. Magic, that is.” Sam said and paused.

Sam's eyes grew brighter, their fight or flight response flickering within themselves at the thought of becoming someone's servant again.

With sure voice Sam continued, still softly, yet not wishing to be taken for fool or victim as his eyes glowed with intelligence and quickness.

“I have yet to scribe the hydrophobic shield though for sale. Yet to test the bolstered version, would be...unprofessional to sell a cantrip in such a state,” Sam explained, their gloved fingers still lingering near their satchel in case defence was required.

“What do you sell?” Sam asked, as if that question might be the triggering word to something terrible. Sam's eyes were focused, this idle conversation a myriad of imagined trouble to their existence so recently freed from the servitude that the imp seemed to be bound by.

Jel Moriah

 

[Jel Moriah]

Jel noticed he had made a mistake almost immediately as he watched his traveling companion tense and their eyes literally dim, as if wincing in pain. Why would he… Servitude, not that Kierrh is under my control at all, that set him off. Wait, his eyes…they remind me of the lights some of my wizard friends have around them. Maybe he was- I’ve seen weirder, so maybe no more discussing familiars after this.

“Not too big of a fan of servitude, are we? Me neither, but if you’d like more than words, I can show you I have not forced a single enchantment on my friend.” Kierrh was a name he used before he could speak infernal, and the demon was so used to it that the collection of sounds that made up the name in common were a good substitute. He had not made the imp reveal their true name, and the imp did not trust him enough to do so freely, which was fine. Names were powerful things.

“There’s a Thornbush right there, Kierrh. Inside is a beautiful flower, blue as anything. I can see it. Go get it for me, would you?” He’d ask kindly, in a way and tone that stated he could if he wanted to, but nothing bad would happen if he didn’t. The imp, obviously not wanting to be scratched, did nothing and simply stared in confusion at the utterly random request. Turning back to Fairbridge, he stated: “There’s obviously no flower, but do you think he would have given it a second thought if I controlled him at all? In fact, I wouldn’t have even needed to ask. I could have ordered him to do it. Is that enough to assuage your fears?”

Giving a little huff, he quickly moved on to the next subject, returning to his moderate and calm self. “Pardon my outburst. I don’t exactly like to be accused of something as disgusting as dehumanizing someone. I’ve experienced enough of that myself to vow never to do it to anyone else.” He’d say this quietly, meaning every word and hoping it would be enough. It was true, too. Thanks to his red body and horns, people went out of their way to insult and underestimate him so much he could call it common. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now, the past is the past, blah blah blah. It’s nice to meet you, Fairbridge.” He’d say, hoping a subject change would calm the both of them down.

He realized that Fairbridge and himself had a very similar occupation, and connected with him on the level only a fellow traveler could. “Hmm, quite interesting. With how competent you seem to be, I can imagine you have business with many a person. I'd love to know what you request in return. Money? Perhaps an exchange of ideas?" When asked what he sold, Jel paused talking to think. "I sell some arcane equipment, such as this enlarging and reducing umbrella, and have mundaner things like food or books for sale as well for the less extraordinary needs, " he'd say, eyes rolling up to look at his umbrella as he spoke about his stock of magical items.

"Are there any spells you're working on besides the shield?"

 

[Sam Fairbridge]

"I didn't accuse you of anything," Sam stated correctly.

Sam felt intimately uncomfortable at the sight of a servant being misdirected in such a fashion, bright white eyes becoming quizzical at the display.

"But making such a request of your servant, I don't think it expresses the point you think it makes," Sam said slowly, adjusting their hat as if to become more official in their capacity.

Sam took a more hurried stride to the imp, and gave a quick odd glance back at Jed, before addressing the imp.

"There's no flower in there. Please don't feel bad Kierrh," Sam said softly. Sam regarded it for a moment with all the sympathy in the world, and decided something in this moment as the imp considered the thorns.

"I'm working on no spellcraft at the moment," Sam said plainly, "Although I now have the idea and desire for something I haven't encountered the need for. Until now. Something for servants, instead of masters," Sam said, hauntingly soft as they made the resolution in their heart about such things.

Sam folded their arms for a few seconds, and the merchant's robes shimmered a glossy iridescent hue as they did so. Unfolded them, and cloth returned to it's former shade. The meaning of the magic was concealed and esoteric, but it was something that might guide or ward Sam in this moment.

"Thank you for the inspiration," Sam said almost pleasantly, as if they were used to delivering pleasantries when feelings were contrary.

Sam turned to business curtly.

"Books. I'm interested in books. I read as much as I can. I've exhausted the library I served in," Sam informed matter of factly.

"Arcane equipment I have much too much of. Shall we step away from the road, and indulge in trade then, if you have books concerning the Art. Are you looking for coin or trade yourself? I have many devices and scrolls." Sam said with an air of direct civility, and extended a hand to the side to the shade of a broad tree that overhung, a few birds peering from their nests, black winged creatures that spied with red eyes.

Sam started to make their way over to the tree, hand no longer drifting by the crystals at their side, but right gloved hand clinging to the quarterstaff should something be required.

 

[Jel Moriah]

You don’t need to verbally accuse someone of something aloud for it to feel like an accusation when your demeanor clearly, visibly, and audibly changes, my friend, but apparently logic might not be your first priority in this very scenario. Although that was what he thought and believed to be true, the better move here would be a simple: "I guess." Indeed, "I guess" was a great phrase to "admit" defeat with, a bit of submission yet staying noncommittal, and there was no reason to believe he didn't mean every word given the phrase itself had no such conviction.

Jel cringed upon listening to his companion softly apologize to the Imp, knowing the creature was probably looking at him like he was stupid. Actually, at that point, even Jel was wondering how someone’s personal biases had caused a miss that significant. Fairbridge, you’re smarter than that. He knew just as well as you and I there was nothing in there, but if I had complete control and influence, that wouldn’t have stopped him. In fact, it wouldn’t have mattered what task I gave him, because he wouldn’t have had a choice but to fulfill the command. His even being able to stay still WAS the point!

Luckily, though, that part of the conversation seemed to be over, and Jel was smart enough not to bring up a sore subject. Still, though, it was sort of hard to move on when the other half of the conversation was so unusually single-minded. "Well, at least you have ideas. That's how all great people start, or so I've heard. I myself am happy learning from others. As for your statement, I don't exactly get it. After all, as I've quite clearly said if not outright stated, no instance of servitude defines the bond between me and Kierrh. Still, though, it's admirable to help those in such a situation, so I wish you luck." Jel chuckled, pondering a bit to himself. Yes, Kierrh served Jel's interests sometimes, but only because he had his own and knew the Tief was a method of acquiring such wants. The best way to say it might be a more human-ish comparison, that of Mercenary and Employer.

Honestly, I think defending myself is only digging a deeper grave. His voice was soft, then, soft but endlessly dangerous. Jel had to suppress an eye roll as Fairbridge pleasantly thanked him for his input, knowing that the arcanic fellow felt no such gratitude. Still, though, the way he tiptoes around something that very clearly has his feathers in a fluff is tiring. Say what you want to say, I say. He'd chuckle at his own random use of pseudo-alliteration and refocus, honing in on Fairbridge's apparent need for books. Thankfully, he had been by a Demon settlement, and perhaps such a stock might be of interest. "I see you're quite eager, so I'll agree to make a quick stop. The sun has come out, after all." At this point, the rain had stopped and he had nothing but time, so what could a pause do? Certainly not hurt.

Following his newest customer to the shade of the pine, Jel would relay his stock, mostly books on demonic research and certain spells regarding mostly transmutation, as well as a bit of black magic among the batch. "These tomes are pretty uncommon in most of the world. You have to travel for a looong time to find a place to get these. I don't even like selling em, but I guess I can make an exception this once." Finally, when questioned on the method of payment, he began to get that warm and fuzzy feeling that preceded a sale. Perhaps something good would come out of the pockets of this friend turned frenemy. "Well, I always take gold and silver, and if someone has an appealing item, I knock it's price off the price of my own item. So then, are you interested at all?"

Admittedly, it was a rocky beginning, but once Jel had his eyes on a sale, he would do his very darndest to see it through.

 

[Sam Fairbridge]

"Transmutation. That interests me," Sam said plainly, and pulled the hems of his sleeves idly so that they presented properly. The weave of silver and intricate arcane patterns within the fabric gave a dance of lights as Sam did so, as the ward they had so recently instructed into raising intertwined with the robe's defences.

"Scrolls and books on transmutation if I might. May I ask further detail on what they instruct? I am already familiar with the 'Schema of Maximillian' and, 'The Oversight of Leagues and Wave Weaves.' They were most helpful when I made first foray into interweaving transjunctions across third and fifth overtones of energy to the fundamental tones of matter transubstantiation to an unstable wave of possibility. Most elucidating in fact. And the illustrations were nice too. Nothing like good calligraphy about the structural harmony matrix to really give you a feel for transmutation's pitter patter across the echo cycle. Not that my former master had much high opinion of such things, but I found I was fond."

Jel Moriah

 

[Jel Moriah]

Jel flipped through the book, looking through the first few pages. It was a book on changing flesh. Figures, this seems kind of interesting. “From what I read, this is a book on changing flesh into other material. An arm to stone, the like. I’m sure the techniques here could be applied to non-living entities as well, though.” He’d say, holding out the book. “I have confidence it will be useful, but a caveat is that it’s, well, it’s in Infernal.”

Sam Fairbridge

 

[Sam Fairbridge]

"Infernal can be read by my eyes, yes. I am versed in reading and writing many languages. Speaking them, less so. Less so," Sam said, firmly neutral in their attitude about the facts they themselves presented to Jel.

"Confidence you think it useful you say. Very well. Flesh into other materials. I shall purchase this from you, and learn the measure of the magic. What would you seek in barter? What field or realm of magic would you wish to know? I have many fields to pluck instruction from in my possession, from my late master's dominion, as well as my own recent ventures into authorship of techniques. Speak it, and it may be within my purview."

Jel Moriah

 

[Jel Moriah]

"Do you perhaps have a more metallic offering, such as coin? I personally think the concept of assigning value to something from a rock is a bit strange, but it will serve me better as a merchant than another spell i most likely will be unable to perfect." He'd smile wryly, then awaiting the white eyed mage's first offer with a quickly-made expression of neutrality.

Sam Fairbridge