15th of Summer, 513 AV
Undeniable Interests
"Do you honestly expect to find anything here?"
The sight was not promising.
The door swung open lazily, its iron hinges wailing angrily at the incoming customer. Sigrun furrowed her brows and scowled, her eyes scanning the dim store before her with obvious skepticism. Thick layers of dust enveloped the many bookshelves like pale blankets, an array of ivory cobwebs showcasing the creativity of the numerous house spiders that lived amongst the shop's apparent great finds and artifacts.
Sigrun stepped warily into the room, the floorboards bending under the weight of her booted foot, scolding her with its creaking noises. As the door closed behind her, the scent of molds and aged paper began to overtake her, causing the young blonde to scrunch her nose and hold her breath for a moment. There was a counter up front, piled to the brim with papers and textbooks, that was left unattended. The place was ghastly, and felt devoid of other people.
"Yeah, no... Definitely not expecting to find anything here," she thought ruefully, wishing she'd never gone.
Sigrun loitered the aisles anyway, eyes scanning the many books and strange trinkets, with apparatuses both big and small working to support the weight of the many tomes that lined each other upon each shelf. A small pile of potions in a wooden bowl caught the young girl's eye, their glass bottles filled with a deep red liquid.
Out of sheer curiosity, the blonde picked up a potion and uncorked the lip, gently bringing it close to her nostrils to take a gentle whiff.
"Blegh!"
The contents were vile. Sigrun quickly secured the cork back in place and quickly moved on. She wasn't here for the oddities, she was here for the books. More specifically, a recipe book.
"Where's the person who works here?" she muttered, cocking an eyebrow at the abandoned counter before moving over to the aisle on the other end of the room, where the floors were flooded with piles of journals.
"Mm, might as well," she shrugged, taking in the sight of a promising batch of notebooks minding their own business on the ground. One of them might have what she needed.
"Might as well what?"
The low, guttural voice startled the young blonde, causing her to quickly jump and spin around, instinctively bringing a hand over to the hilt of her sheathed culass. It was an old, aged man, his head and jawline overrun by thick, unruly gray hairs that were a stark contrast to his loose black robes. He grinned mischievously, as if he'd truly meant to startle her.
"Dominac," he introduced himself, holding out his hand for a shake.
"... Dominic," she mused after a moment's passing, smirking at the similarity in their names as she took his hand in hers and shook it firmly.
"And what might you be looking for?" he raised an eyebrow at her. Sigrun briefly scanned the room, expecting their loud voices to displace the dust, but it did not. It must've stuck to the shelves and books for good.
"A recipe book," she responded, turning to the old man once more, "For erm, pastries, and such."
"You're in luck," he said, ushering her over to the counter, "I've got quite a few."
"Don't really get that many customers 'round here lookin' for a recipe book. What've you got planned?"
"Something great, hopefully," was all the girl divulged.
Clearing his throat, Dominac licked his lips and crouched down below the counter, away from the young blonde's field of vision. The sound of a chest being opened, as well as the shuffling of hardbound book covers and parchment papers could be heard. Rising up with a groan and an unpleasant cracking sound from his spine, he plopped a modest pile of books and journals in front of the girl.
"Take yer pick," he winked, "be here all day."
Sigrun's lip twitched, her eyes quickly diverting towards the books and away from the strange old man, whose intentions seemed a little bit impure, if not in the sense of salesmanship. Taking in the thickest one, Sigrun gently slipped her fingers underneath the leather cover and flipped the book open, her aquamarine orbs scanning the page intently. Her heart sank at the stunning lack of desserts listed on the table of contents.
"Need some help?"
"S'fine, thank you," she smiled politely at him, waving her hand in the air before quickly taking hold of another book, a much thinner one with a softer cover. Sighing softly to herself, she flipped to the first few pages and hoped for the best.
Undeniable Interests
"Do you honestly expect to find anything here?"
The sight was not promising.
The door swung open lazily, its iron hinges wailing angrily at the incoming customer. Sigrun furrowed her brows and scowled, her eyes scanning the dim store before her with obvious skepticism. Thick layers of dust enveloped the many bookshelves like pale blankets, an array of ivory cobwebs showcasing the creativity of the numerous house spiders that lived amongst the shop's apparent great finds and artifacts.
Sigrun stepped warily into the room, the floorboards bending under the weight of her booted foot, scolding her with its creaking noises. As the door closed behind her, the scent of molds and aged paper began to overtake her, causing the young blonde to scrunch her nose and hold her breath for a moment. There was a counter up front, piled to the brim with papers and textbooks, that was left unattended. The place was ghastly, and felt devoid of other people.
"Yeah, no... Definitely not expecting to find anything here," she thought ruefully, wishing she'd never gone.
Sigrun loitered the aisles anyway, eyes scanning the many books and strange trinkets, with apparatuses both big and small working to support the weight of the many tomes that lined each other upon each shelf. A small pile of potions in a wooden bowl caught the young girl's eye, their glass bottles filled with a deep red liquid.
Out of sheer curiosity, the blonde picked up a potion and uncorked the lip, gently bringing it close to her nostrils to take a gentle whiff.
"Blegh!"
The contents were vile. Sigrun quickly secured the cork back in place and quickly moved on. She wasn't here for the oddities, she was here for the books. More specifically, a recipe book.
"Where's the person who works here?" she muttered, cocking an eyebrow at the abandoned counter before moving over to the aisle on the other end of the room, where the floors were flooded with piles of journals.
"Mm, might as well," she shrugged, taking in the sight of a promising batch of notebooks minding their own business on the ground. One of them might have what she needed.
"Might as well what?"
The low, guttural voice startled the young blonde, causing her to quickly jump and spin around, instinctively bringing a hand over to the hilt of her sheathed culass. It was an old, aged man, his head and jawline overrun by thick, unruly gray hairs that were a stark contrast to his loose black robes. He grinned mischievously, as if he'd truly meant to startle her.
"Dominac," he introduced himself, holding out his hand for a shake.
"... Dominic," she mused after a moment's passing, smirking at the similarity in their names as she took his hand in hers and shook it firmly.
"And what might you be looking for?" he raised an eyebrow at her. Sigrun briefly scanned the room, expecting their loud voices to displace the dust, but it did not. It must've stuck to the shelves and books for good.
"A recipe book," she responded, turning to the old man once more, "For erm, pastries, and such."
"You're in luck," he said, ushering her over to the counter, "I've got quite a few."
"Don't really get that many customers 'round here lookin' for a recipe book. What've you got planned?"
"Something great, hopefully," was all the girl divulged.
Clearing his throat, Dominac licked his lips and crouched down below the counter, away from the young blonde's field of vision. The sound of a chest being opened, as well as the shuffling of hardbound book covers and parchment papers could be heard. Rising up with a groan and an unpleasant cracking sound from his spine, he plopped a modest pile of books and journals in front of the girl.
"Take yer pick," he winked, "be here all day."
Sigrun's lip twitched, her eyes quickly diverting towards the books and away from the strange old man, whose intentions seemed a little bit impure, if not in the sense of salesmanship. Taking in the thickest one, Sigrun gently slipped her fingers underneath the leather cover and flipped the book open, her aquamarine orbs scanning the page intently. Her heart sank at the stunning lack of desserts listed on the table of contents.
"Need some help?"
"S'fine, thank you," she smiled politely at him, waving her hand in the air before quickly taking hold of another book, a much thinner one with a softer cover. Sighing softly to herself, she flipped to the first few pages and hoped for the best.
