Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Boys and their Toys. (Semi-open, read OP first)

(Hello! Welcome to this RP thread. Intended to be a one on one meeting between two necromancers. If you're interested in joining, please PM myself and Mellute and tell us about your character. Please don't just post in. Thanks so much!)

The door hadn't been in Altus for very long. But rumours spread fast in the slums of the bustling city-state. A little door, in a little back alley, behind the Capsized Table, one of the worst taverns in town. Above the door was a little lantern, held by the statue of a gargoyle with a nasty grin. The lantern's light was red.

Some residents had tried to report the door to the guard, for they heard disturbing noises coming from inside at night, which often roused the tavern patrons from their drunken stupour and sent them home. But those guards who bothered to follow up on the reports of drunks and blaggards reported no such door. The owner of the Capsized Table was in a fit, his business was being driven away, but he was too frightened to step inside the door himself. Some nights, he lingered outside, trying to draw up the courage to enter, staring up at the gargoyle with a face almost as stony. But he never grasped the handle.

Those who did venture inside gave conflicting reports. They all described a strange magical shop. Some however, told tales of a young boy, others of a decrepit old man, one had even claimed the shop keeper was a beautiful woman. None of them ever talked about what they bought, why, or what the price was. The older tavern patrons remembered the last time the door appeared, more than forty years ago, and warned against stepping inside. They described the eventual fares of the shop's customers, all those years ago. Many of these clients dissappeared. Many more were driven mad, not long after their visit. Some lived in peace, and gained great power and renown. There was only one guarantee, once you stepped inside, your life would be forever changed.

The only question was, who amung Altus' downtrodden were desperate, or curious enough to gamble with their lives?

Vinegar stains the fingertips and lips of a brilliantly red-haired man and the wait staff at Rhett’s Bistro cannot help but stare. His beauty alone draws their gaze but the concern in their eyes shows he has outworn his welcome. The man casually glances out the large window and blinks. There was sunlight last he checked but now the streets were so utterly dark it would require real effort to arrive home safely. He simply sighed. How he hated difficult matters.

Eight hours without moving. Simply staring at the other customers entertained Salvador for a long time at the bistro but now he finally left. In his left hand he swung a “Doggie Bag” of leftover fried chicken liver. His fingers were oily from the vinegar sauce from his meal. His stomach growled even though he essentially ate enough food for six men.

Stumbling through the dark with his thoughts locked away deep in his mind, Salvo completely ran into another man. The other man fell down along with the reek of liquor. The fool decided to just stay on the ground. Salvo glanced over at the Capsized Table tavern where the drunk originated, but then found himself drawn to the small red light of lantern above a suspicious door. Everything about it screamed magic and shady activity. Salvo knew all about that business. Food still clutched in his hand he decided to see what creature dwelled within. He approached the door after admiring the statue for a few moments and took hold of the doorknob. Without hesitation or any cautioun he swung it open and stepped inside.

Behind the counter of the strange, dimly lit shop was a young man, probably not yet 30. He looked up and beamed a smile when a customer wandered in. "Dead and dying one by one, in from the cold they come. Hello there. My oh my, you are entirely too pretty to be benign." The man chuckled and watched Salvo with harsh eyes, that betrayed his rounded, boyish features. Something within was cold and withered. With a care, he closed the book he had been reading and slid it back into place on the bookshelf it had come from, behind him. Many of the books in the store were chained and padlocked shut. Amung the bookshelves were display cases full of obscure alchemy ingredients and tools, the bones of rare creatures, and variuous artefacts which could each be the subject of a long hero's quest.

Akalashin stepped out from behind the counter and approached Salvo, studying him with a great deal of scrutiny. Eventually he seemed to come to a conclusion, and walked away again. "Look around, I'm sure there is some dark secret or other that might interest you. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a kindred spirit?"

The bag he held in his hand reeked of fried meat. The smell hit his nostrils and once again his stomach demanded food. Salvo reached inside and took a bite. The squishy meat tore and pulverized before each swallow and then disappeared. His stomach was bottomless and ornery. He stared lazily at the smiling shop owner before withdrawing his hand from the bag and simply waved. His lips never moved in speech. He wasn’t a talkative fellow.

He ate until his leftover meal was gone. The look on his face showed that he wasn’t aware of reality. His eyes seemed to look through the bookshelves rather than at them, but then quickly his fingers reach the spine of a particular old book and snatched it from the shelf. He ran an open hand down the front of the cover as to inspect it. The book was locked shut from his curious eyes. This particular book dealt with the tortured spirits of children. It fascinated him for some odd reason.

“I saw the light and entered.” He replied. Salvo continued to stare the book for a few moments then put it back on the shelf in its proper place. Ever since he entered this region the spirits of tortured children spoke to him. They distracted him from his current reality giving him afar off look. Salvo had a difficult time convincing others he was indeed sane and the voices are real.

Akalashin noticed the choice. He let out a gentle chuckle. "One of the most powerful forces there is. Well, save one. The fury of the ghosts of children tends only to be surpassed by the fury of the mothers. A little magic can make them useful allies. That book can teach you how. They make excellent wraiths." He had regarded the man carefully as he ate. He still seemed amused. "That's an expensive piece though. There's plenty else. I don't have a closing time, so peruse to your heart's content. What you are drawn to tells me a lot about you, and I find myself quite intrigued. You can call me Martin, new friend." He beamed a crooked smile.

It took a few moments for Salvo to pry his curious eyes from the bookshelves. It was like a physical connection to the knowledge contained within each tightly bound book. He shifted his gaze so it focused on the man just as he introduced himself. Salvo offered a small polite smile in return.

“Martin.” He said just to test the name out. Once he took the name to memory along with the man’s face he introduced himself as well. “I am Salvo.”

Not much of a talker Salvo turned back to the shelves and scanned the titles of each book. Many of them could land a person in jail for simply owning one. This shop was quite bold but how else would a shy necromancer such as himself find new secrets?

The shop owner tilted his head, and frowned. The newcomer was difficult to engage with. But he could tell Salvo would buy something. His secrets had caught the red head's interests. "It's good to meet you, Salvo." Religious officials in the city would have a field day if they stumbled upon the dark treasure trove. He could be charged with more than a dozen herasies. He knew he had Salvo's attention, but there was still more to the sale.

"You should know," he began, "that I have rather unconventional prices. Depending on what you settle on. I have enough gold, and rarely traffick in it."

Pausing with the spine of a book in his long fingers Salvo cast a questioning glance at the man known as Martin. The pricing of each of these secrets would require something more unique than money. Money Salvo had but whether or not he had what the shop owner wanted in return he was not sure. His eyes flitted over to the stacks of books again and he resolved to find something of use.

"What..would you suggest I take a look at?" Salvo muttered. There was so much knowledge but he couldn't filter through them very well. There was too many things of interest for him to decide. Salvo was in need of spells that could sever the magical traces of his magic on his clients. he decided to search for a book somewhere along those lines.

Martin carefully watched Salvo's movement, the places he paused, the books he seemed to favour... Eventually, he wandered out from behind his desk and wandered about, humming as he looked for something special. Eventually his claw clicked against the spine of one of the chained books. He pulled it out, and offered it to the man.

"Rory's Discourses on Subtlety and Deception." He grinned. "Not so much a book, but a series of letters the man wrote to colleagues. The magus was infamous for defeating his enemies by turning their own magic against them. There was no one who could better manipulate another wizard's magic, and no one who could better conceal himself from unfriendly scrying."