A gigantic, two-handed sword made out of orichalcum. It’s extremely heavy, but is resilient and has powerful anti-magical properties. Orichalcum is magic-resistant.

“Thank you,” says Shamrock, looking over the blade as he holds it in both of his hands.

Fresh nods. “It’s not gonna last forever,” she explains. “But with that durability, it’ll last you a few months. Worst case, I can repair it or just make you a new one,” notes Fresh. Shamrock nods. She thinks for a moment. “Lemme see that again real quick,” she says, pointing at the table. Shamrock sets it down and Fresh holds her hands out over it.

Stopping herself, she turns around and places a hand on Shamrock’s chest, pushing him back another step, before turning back to the sword again.

“Huh.. neat,” she says. Apparently, the magic-resistant metal orichalcum is also resistant against curses. That’s interesting. Fresh tilts her head, wondering if there’s an application to be found here in regards of curse-removal?

She shakes her head. “Sorry, Shamrock,” she says. “I hope you like it even if it isn’t cursed.”

The man’s chest heaves as he picks up the large blade. “It’s perfect. Thank you,” he says, holding out an arm.

Fresh gasps and accepts her rare payment of a hug.

“We need to keep it on the down-low, until we manage to think of a good excuse for why we have so much fucking orichalcum,” says Jubilee.

“Agreed,” says Basil. “It’ll be very suspicious if we try to sell a wagon full of orichalcum equipment in out first week of business. But..”

Jubilee nods. “We need a cover-story.”

Fresh stands downstairs, behind the counter, getting everything ready for the day before they open. She watches as the two spriggans chase each other around the low shelves. She can only see their bobbing and bouncing sprouts peaking over the top. “A cover-story?” she asks. “We’ll just say that we found it in the dungeon.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’ll fucking buy that,” replies Jubilee. “Maybe for one wand a month and even then..”

“Where does the current supply come from?” asks Basil.Jubilee lifts a finger, pointing out of the window. “Up the road, towards the castle is the forge,” they explain. “Some old family operation that works together with the city. They’re basically nobles now.”

Basil frowns. “Do you think we’ll be in danger if we step on their toes?”

“When are we not in danger?” asks Jubilee, sighing. “I think our timing is good though,” they explain. “There’s clearly some shit going on outside. Food and medicine are going to be rationed probably right after the winter festival is over,” they say. “So we’ll just be too valuable to be a problem.”

Basil plays with her bracelet as she thinks. “It’s a good plan, honestly. We have food to offer, we have medicine and if we can supply cheap and powerful equipment too..”

“We’ll be a lifeboat in a crisis,” says Jubilee. “We might piss off one noble family, but we’ll have ten more begging to wipe our asses so that they don’t get executed by a hungry mob in a few months.”

Basil sighs. “You’re always so crude.”

Jubilee rolls their eyes. “Sorry. I always forget that I’m in the presence of royalty,” they say sarcastically.

Fresh considers their points for a moment. They need an explanation for all of their orichalcum, huh..?

Hmm..

She shakes her head. One problem at a time. First, they have to get the store ready for the items they already have on sale.

“I got the goo,” says an orc woman with a deeply scratchy voice, pointing at her face. Fresh assumes that having ‘the goo’ is just an expressive way of saying that she has a cold.

Basil frowns, leaning over and looking at her. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

The woman shakes her head. “All I do is sleep.”

“It’s true,” says her party-member from behind her, standing there with crossed arms and shaking their head. “But that was before she got sick too.”

The orc takes a subtle step back, landing conveniently on their toes.

“Follow me,” says Basil, walking around the counter. “I have something that’ll help,” says the priestess, walking through the shelves with the orc and her friend.

“Hey,” asks a voice from in front of her. Fresh blinks, looking at the caster wearing an assortment of layered fabric and strings covered in bones and stones. A druid? “If I buy one of these staves, what happens if I put a bone in it?”

“A bone?” asks Fresh, thinking. She shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe it’ll summon a skeleton?” guesses Fresh. “We’ve never tested anything except spriggan seeds.”

“Can I try?” asks the caster.

“Uh..”

Jubilee pulls her to the side. “You can. But if it breaks, you’re buying it.”

The customer considers the statement for a while and then nods, setting the staff down onto the counter.

“Pretty fucking grim,” says Jubilee, looking them over.

“Jubilee!” scolds Fresh. “Sorry, Jubilee forgets to be nice a lot.”

The caster shakes his head, undoing the bauble and dropping a small sliver of bone from one of his cords into it, before screwing it back on. “I get that a lot,” says the man. “Part of the trade.”

“Oh, really?” asks Fresh. “I thought people liked druids.”

“Druids?” he asks, lifting the staff up.

“Ah, you gotta shake it,” says Fresh.

The man nods and gives the staff a shake. It starts vibrating. “I’m a necromancer,” he explains.

The piece of bone inside of the glass bauble disintegrates and turns into a fine ash as it fills the glass sphere, swirling around like the nebulous fog inside of a crystal-ball. For a brief instant, the vapors come together to form the shape of a skull, only to come apart again a moment later.

“Ah, fuck,” says Jubilee. “Get the fuck out of here, you’re going to scare away the other customers.”

“Jubilee!” shouts Fresh. “Sorry! Please don’t go, Jubilee is just a meanie.” Something rattles, rising out of a heap of dust on the floor that is leaking out of the staff. “..What kind of bone was that?” asks Fresh, watching it grow.

“Human,” replies the man.

Fresh blinks. “..Oh..”

A simple, sturdy, straight wooden staff with a hollow glass bauble at the end. The enchanted, strong glass absorbs the attributes of whatever is placed inside of itself.

Bauble: [Bone Shard]

All spells add +15% {DARK} to cast SPELL-DMG

Summons a Skeleton fighter to follow you

+2 INT

+2 WIS

A tall, lanky, human skeleton rises up, forming out of the dust, staring around the room, before turning to look at them.

“Not bad,” says the man. “I can always use another pair of hands.”

“Is that meant literally?” asks Jubilee, eyeing the man’s coat.

He digs around in his pockets, setting down a gold Obol onto the counter. “Only on the second day of the week,” he says, nodding to them, before leaving.

Jubilee sighs, taking the coin and shaking their head. Fresh meanwhile, is trying to decipher what is supposed to happen on the second day of the week?

“Jubilee?” she asks. “Did we cross a moral boundary?”

“It’s not even lunch time,” replies Jubilee, dusting off the counter.

Fresh lets out an uneasy laugh as she lifts her gaze and stares at Basil’s horrified expression from across the store.

It’s probably fine.

Razmatazz

Thank you kindly for reading!

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