Into the Rabbit's Hole

[Jilitse]

10th OF FALL 511 AV
THE STREETS OF ALVADAS


Jilitse was unabashed as she walked through the Gaping Maw. She suspected that it was a large cavern at first, maybe a long, dark tunnel. She contemplated the circumstance that brought her here, someone significant suggesting that the golem she was looking for might be in Alvadas. "A talking stone? Are you sure kind man, are you undoubtedly sure that it was a talking stone?" She allowed herself to believe in the man. It might have been a little unwise of her to follow her gut-feeling, but logic had its own reasons and Ionu had his puzzles.

She half-expected to meet a Supervisor - maybe Albretch, maybe Baird. But that was wishful thinking, was it not? The Nuit felt a cold draft caress her in the tunnel, and in the darkness a tiny light shone. In a breath, the whole place brightened. Jil pulled up an arm to shield her eyes from the blinding light. "Petch," she could not help but curse. She bowed her head down and stared at the floor.

Surprise!

Slow realization at first. Red brick floors. There was something different. She peered out, her arm shielding half her face. Noontime? Didn't dawn break out a while ago? Most curious, she thought, how she had magically changed clothes. Wasn't she wearing her Benshiran garb a moment a from now? She pulled her cart and examined her belongings, found the clothes where they were supposed to be - if she had packed it. But, she had not packed it. Why was she wearing her wizard clothes? She fingered the hem of her sleeve and stared at her outfit. Surely, if she had changed her clothes - and she didn't - she would remember? A Nuit had a perfect memory, so why -- She was still composed, face cold and blank. But inside her head, the thoughts were whirling together into a mass of indescribable soup. To make things even weirder, she found herself standing in the middle of a brick road! A brick road that wasn't there before! Behind her, a fork in the road. Not a cavern, not a tunnel. Did she happen to pass by a door, a gate? She wondered. Wondered. She pulled to the side of the road and wondered. So this was how it felt to be confused!

"Welcome to Alvadas," she mumbled.

In retrosprect it all made sense to her. Which was an illusion: that she had been disguising as Benshiran, or that she was a wizard?

[Jilitse]

From here onward she was on her own, no guide to help tour the city, no particular destination in mind. She courted mayhem just by being here in Alvadas. The city was unfamiliar yet welcoming, a sign of better days ahead. She passed by bizarre people and unusual streets, crossed a bridge of fire unharmed and treaded flooded streets. After half a bell of walking she had stopped following her memory. Overthinking was a Nuit's fault, but she was tired of overthinking. She trusted in her logic, for in Alvadas there was logic, though it was too unplain to see.

So far nothing terrible had happened, except for that really large lion that was blocking the road three alleys back. She almost assumed it to be a harmless illusion - like those fake walls in Sahova - but common sense got a better hold on Jil, and she catiously squeezed through the narrowest of spaces, just to avoid the large lion. Her cart was another matter entirely, but it did not deter her from nudging the tail - petch, was that heavy - and coaxing the sleepy muscles to give way.

What was missing, however, was the pull of magic. It was simply not there, and Jil's curiosity had her trying to get a feel for her own djed, and its resonance on her surroundings. That was a trick she had learned recently, though her techniques were still too rough. She wanted to complain about the illusions, but years of unlife had fashioned her to be quite the patient observer. She stared and looked and looked and looked, memories flooded by an everchanging city. Magic existed in the city, but not the kind that she was accustomed to. There was greater emphasis in the art and the puzzles and confusion. She just needed to convince herself a little more that what she needed was already here.

Sometimes the streets were kind, stretching for a good length without weird animals or funky buildings. There were moments the surroundings shifted in a sneeze, sometimes the illusion held for more than a few chimes. On and on and on. She stopped when she felt a little restless, about the time when the skies were painted with a dull red orange. She hadn't found a place to stay for the night.

Down the street - literally down the street - she was tring her best to wheel her cart down what appeared to be an endless flight of stairs. She half-expected the city to let up on the illusion, but 546 steps down (she counted!) and the steps didn't seem to have any end. With great perseverance, she managed to arrive in some sort of mezzanine. A small alley appeared to be leading somewhere. She stared down, the end of the road (or to be politically correct, the end of the stairs) was too far away, hidden by a blanket of mist and clouds. Logically, she turned and traversed the alley, finding herself standing before (finally!) an agreeable building.

Unlike earlier, she was no longer alone in the streets. Her path converged with a slightly busier area of Alvadas. The dawn was settling, the lamps were being lit. In the distance was the silhouette of the market. She expected The Bizarre to be just like the Great Bazaar of Syliras, and the Nuit hoped that she could at least come across a tongue willing to talk, or a kind heart hospitable enough to transact with a Nuit.

She trudged slower now, fatigue catching up on her. She walked past friendly eyes, business eyes, and wary eyes. She greeted them all with a faint smile. Jil was tired and needed a little rest. Not too far away she came upon a hole in the wall. It was quaint, if dusty. The shopowner must have left a while ago. She eyed the spot with curiosity.

"Fancy what ya see, miss?" A man in a worn doublet engaged her in conversation.

She politely introduced herself, "I am Jilitse and I come from far away, recently from Taldera. The streets have brought me here. I am in search for a place to stay, really. My journey has been long and my body needs a rest."

"The names McArdle. Karmesh McArdle. A polite Nuit is not something you see everyday. Whatever brought you here in Alvadas, hm?" His eyes bore into hers, like weights pressing into her thoughts.

"I believed the Gaping Maw to be something that I was looking for."

McArdle nodded, as if he fully understood that Jilitse was in search of a great golem and had faced great disappointment in discovering that the Gaping Maw was nowhere close to the description. "My sympathies, if you found our beloved gate wanting." He lifted a hand in acknowledgement of a passerby, and smiled at the woman on the shop beside the empty space. He inquired in good faith, "Other than that, is everything fine?"

"Aside from not being able to find an Inn... I'm doing alright, I guess."She loosened up, "I'm running out of money." She said it so casually, even without meaning to divulge these information.

McArdle pointed at the hole in the wall and said, "Previous occupant left for some other place. Couldn't remember squat of his reasons." He pulled two fingers to his lips as if he held a pipe and then blew away. "Want it?"

"Rent a space? In the middle of a market?" She asked, a little dumbfounded. The hole was a little bit straightforward: three paneled walls, a ceiling, old floorboards. No privacy, no nothing.

"Look here, Jilitse," he swooned and spilled his spiel, "You look like you could use a place to stay, and my space's not bad. Le'ssee, a good room in an inn would get you what, 80, maybe 100 a season?" He was very convincing. "Why don't you rent my space, and I'll give you a good discount. 40 gm this season, and 50 for the rest. Not bad, not bad, eh?"

He was right. It was a steal at that price, but it somehow made no sense. Who would want to live in an empty space? Sensing the Nuit's hesitation, he tried to persuade, "I'll even help you set up shop, in case you desire so. 'Course that might take you about 10 gm on top. One time payment, and I'll help you set up shop. A humble price, you would agree." Not counting that he could have plainly said 50 gm a season was 50 gm a season, Jilitse agreed. McArdle said it so... convincingly. The reasons were there, almost hypnotic: the Inn she had been trying to find didn't even try to show itself, she's running out of money, it might do good to put up a little business since she has been talking about settling down some place. She took McArdle's suggestions hook, line, and sinker.

Jilitse found herself opening her money satchel, losing 50 gm ang receiving a key. "What's this for?" She said, confused... "I don't even see any..." McArdle smiled enigmatically, "Well, it's a bit bare inside, but I'm sure you'll find it perfect." He stepped forward, and Jil could not believe how the space transformed from a dull hole in the wall into a decent shop, as if an artist took a brush and repainted the scene. A large hopper window made the perfect wares display, and a blank sign hung by the bifold door. McArdle helped the confused Jilitse with her cart. "Let's get your things inside. It's bare, but I've tidied up for you. If you want I can lend you my assistance and we could get you furnitures." The man took his own initiative to bring Jil's possessions into her temporary abode.

Every one had a place in Alvadas, they said. Jil stood unmoving and slowly registered a face that was completely puzzled, an emotion usually rare for the Nuit. She watched as the bifold door adjusted wider - right before her very eyes - to accept the cart and then shrunk back to size. When McArdle came back, the Nuit was still perplexed, but she decided to just nod her head and say, "Thanks McArdle."

"Shall we?" He asked mirthly, offering his arm to accompany a the lady Nuit. Jil nodded and slid her cold hand around the man's elbow. It felt like things were falling into place, but she was also feeling very, very, very confused.

[Jilitse]

McArdle patted Jil's fingers, as if consoling the Nuit. "I would like to say, 'I understand how you feel', but I don't. Just as outsiders think strangely of Alvads, let's just say...the feeling is mutual. At the very least I can try to make things less puzzling for you." It was a very powerful suggestion. Jil would eventually discover that she had been slave to McArdle's "charms" in the coming days, though she would not bear any grudge or harbor resentment. The man may have used magic on her discreetly, but his intentions were good and his heart was kind.

He led her through the Bizarre Bazaar, a place as changeable as Alvadas. It was curious how the myriad of stalls and shops greatly varied, and Jil curiously observed that she seemed to be able to look back and find her transient home/shop still there. Like the corner of the road marked the end of all things constant, and she could travel to any point within the Bizaare. Akin to a pendulum, she thought, where there was one point constant. yet instead of a rod that swung to one point to another, it was a string, stretching close and far, swinging to and fro. McArdle appeared to be quite the mind reader.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Hm?" Jil asked, "What is?"

"That table over there." He grinned, like he had already changed topic, "See, made from oak, but you can't immediately tell because it has been painted over."

"I am not really adept with selecting furniture. As long as the legs hold up the table, I am willing to pay for it."

McArdle greeted the shopowner and introduced Jilitse as a new acquaintance. "This is Ruskit. One of the best damn carpenters in this side of Kalea."

"You do me too much flattery." Ruskit harrumphed, but his eyes reflected a steel pride. "To what pleasure do we owe our...errr." He searched for the correct words, "customer... customer's visit." Better than to address the Nuit vaguely so.

"I am looking for a desk, maybe a chair. And a table sturdy enough to be a workstation."

Ruskit raised a brow and lifted his eyes up, wondering. "I'd suggest a good table. I just might have the kind you need. Oak's sturdy enough. What kind of work will it be? Tinkering, crafts, the likes?"

Jil nodded. McArdle left her side and started examining the furnitures on display, knocking on some, talking to others (as though he expected them to talk back) Ruskit smirked, "He claims some of my drawers are alive. If they ever deviate from being anything other than a dresser or a cabinet, I'd say that's Alvadas to you. Come here, let me give you a quick..." But Jil had already set her eyes on a particular rectangular table, and was sashaying towards the it. There were intricate carvings of symbols that didn't make sense, the legs were bowed and elegant.

"Not one to dawdle." Ruskit assessed his customer. "That's make of cherry wood. Hard to import that kind of material. Pretty expensive, but if you consider that," he paused, wondered if the Nuit cared to hear about the value of the craftsman's design. He did a double-take then trailed off, and waited for Jil to finish inspecting the table.

"It is well made." Jil said while made a good examining of the item. She crouched and checked the drawer, elegantly concealed. Pulled it out and pushed it back two, three times.

"You have a good eye. No one has bothered to look at that piece for a while. People have different tastes in their furniture I guess. You like it?"

She smoothed the desk with her hand. It was slightly weathered wood, yet smooth to the touch. She traced her fingers on the ornate carvings, "I'll go ahead and take it."

"Wait!" Ruskit exclaimed, "Um, in as much as I'd like to give it up.." The man scratched his head and grimaced. "This piece of furniture is part of a set. There's a chair and a wee work table to go along with it. I can't sell a piece separate from the others."

The Nuit stared at Ruskit for a good few chimes before speaking up, "Other pieces? Let me see them?"

In a moment McArdle was helping Ruskit pull out a chair from the inventory and helped presented the work table. They were the oddest collection. The arm chair had fancy leaves and berries carved on the arms and legs, while the work table had a rectangular top with folding leaves standing on a few small drawers fitted with mini partitions perhaps intended to hold sewing materials or similar items. It was McArdle who said, "How can three pieces of dissonant furniture be part of a set?" His grin was wiped away: his mouth was pouting while his eyes were grim.

"They were made from the same hundred year old tree." Said Ruskit, smiling and proud.

"One would think that a set of furniture should be matching." Jil commented, but it was hard to tell if she was about to cancel her order. "A set is not a set because they look alike; A set is a set because they are alike of qualities not necessarily visible to the eye."

Ruskit let out a big smile. "Far from the truth, but better than being unappreciated. That is the mot sensible comment I have ever heard."

"Not really." McArdle shrugged. But let Jil decide if she would take the furniture pieces back to the shop. "How much for them?" The Nuit asked.

"The set costs 30 gold. But let me do you a favor and take twenty percent off that." What's twenty percent of 30? Jil calculated. 6 gold. Not bad! "Alright, here's 24 gm." She hesitated, before asking, "Do you mind letting me know if you are selling a bookcase, just a simple one. I might also need to install a shelf in the shop... Maybe you've got these things too?"

"Be glad to supply you with those as well," he said, pocketing Jil's payment. As he disappeared to check on his inventory, McArdle turned to his Nuit companion. "Are you sure you still have the money for that?"

Jil cocked her head, wondering how McArdle guessed her thoughts. "Ah, well..." she said, "If I'm setting up shop I should set aside money for materials."

McArdle replied, a finger raised to stress the point. "Exactly what I was thinking." Ruskit came back with what appeared to be a collapsed cabinet and paper. "Here's the available designs for the bookcase. All of them got's good sense." Ruskit was proud, his voice certain. Jil peered at the paper and squinted. Ruskit's bookcases were shaped oodly. One was a triangular bookcase, the other was formed like the hull of a boat, there was a circular bookcase, and perhaps all the weird shapes possible.

The shopkeeper continued as Jil perused his bookcase designs, "If it's basic materials you're looking for, I can put in a good word or two to some of my suppliers. I'm guessing wood works and metal?" Ruskit nodded. "I hope you aren't making furniture. Stick to your tinkering, crafts, and the like. I don't want to feed a pregnant snake."

McArdle could pretty much tell Ruskit himself what kind of mage Jilitse was, but he let the Nuit explain herself. Having power over a person doesn't always me you have to be in control. Jil began, "I'm involved with a little magic. But my talent rests in gadgeteering. I mainly work with metal, but I'm looking forward to work with wood." Jil was now holding a sheet up with two hands, eyeing it intently.

There was a frown before"Hm. A mage, eh." Swiftly he changed topics, "I know what you are thinking," Ruskit said, "You are thinking my designs are great, and that you wouldn't find them anywhere else." Triangle bookcases, really? Any bookshop anywhere else would have your standard rectangular piece. Jil picked the most interesting shape and pointed it to Ruskit.

"Ah, a coffin-shaped bookcase. An ironic joke to the unsuspecting customer. See, I love your taste in furniture. I'm liking you a lot already." To McArdle, he said, "I'll have these delivered to her shop?"

"Please see to it that you do. It's the one with the hopping window next to Madam Shireyn." McArdle added, "It wouldn't hurt if you would help set-up everything. I'm sure that our Nuit friend here would appreciate it if you arrange the furniture as well."

Jil caught on, "Thank you for the kindness. I have no idea when it comes to designing the interior of a shop."

"That will take you an additional eight gold and five silver. Inasmuch as I'd like to give you more discount, business is business."

"I'll take what I can get, including your friendship." Jil smiled faintly. It would be nice if she could get on Ruskit's good side. If her business picks up, she might need more furniture and she was considering the possibility of having them custom made.

Ruskit scratched his head. "Wow, just wow. You surprise me every time you open your mouth. It's almost scary. But McArdle's been a good customer, we go way back. Visit me often and if you could help spread the word about my shop, you'll be more than welcome to come back and ask for a discount. Then we can talk about being friends. Nice meeting you Miss Nuit."

Now that was some shopkeeper talk. Jil memorized the words, the half-meek half-excited tone of voice. If she was going to be a shopkeeper herself, she needed to observe the mannerisms of other shopkeepers. She agreed, "I will. It was my pleasure to meet you Mister Human."

McArdle noticed a new customer coming and said, "Well, enough rubbing shoulders for now. Shall we?" He said his goodbye to Ruskit and escorted Jil to her next stop.

[Jilitse]

McArdle returned Jilitse to her shop, which was positioned along a busy street (all stores were positioned along a busy street). To her surprise - and the shock was evident in her usually stoic face - everything has been repainted, furnished, cleaned - all in a matter of a few chimes, give or take half a bell.

All that's left for her to do was to hang a sign, and she could open and close shop anytime. She turned around to thank Mc Ardle, but the man was already gone.

How freaking odd.

Quietly, she slipped inside her shop. Her books, her items were in perfect order. The whole place was a far cry from her lodging in Sahova, and the fact that this space was her own (at least for the season) knotted what's left of her decomposing guts into a tight ball of determination. She thought, "If I am to beat Sagallius who kept on treating Mashaen his second best, then I must hurry and catch up to their level of magic. There will be a lot of changes for me, but I know I can do it." She threw a glance and a smile at her Gnosis mark. She no longer hid it behind gloves, wore it proudly. The light within her heart was shining, fighting off the darkness and shadows of her old self.

If she had noticed one thing strange in the room, it was a rectangular portrait, twice the length of her hand, hanging on the wall. She thought she saw the man on it wink at her. Thinking it an illusion, she was about to turn away and start arranging her gadgeteering toolkit, when she decided to do a double take and scrutinize the hand-drawn portrait. "Mc Ardle?" She asked.

The portrait tipped off his hat and winked again. Jil quickly turned about-face and sighed. Alvadas will take a lot of getting used to. Pulling out her toolkit from a neatly placed box, the Nuit sat on her new chair and prepared stuff on the table. She wrote down her expenses for the day, but left off the amount of money she had left. Jil didn't like the thought of diminishing supplies. In Sahova, everything was for free. Here, she had to pull her own tail.

In an old script, she wrote:

McArdle (Landlord)
Discounted Rent 40gm
Labor 10gm

Ruskit (Furniture Shop)
Chair, Fine 10 gm
End Table, Fine 2 gm
Table, Fine 12 gm
Bookcase, Average 50 Books 8gm
Shelf Set, Average 5 sm

Adding it all up, her initial capital was a total of 82 gm and 2 sm. Thinking that she will need to buy materials for her first set of projects made her wonder a bit if she will end up broke before she even starts selling things. No, she scolded herself, No space for doubt. Believe in yourself.

Ah, she decided, maybe it would be better if she came up with her shop name. A number of ideas came to mind, but with what she had seen so far, her place needed to be whimsical and intriguing. Before she decided on a name, other thoughts entered her mind: what will she sell exactly? The Pycon dollmaker came to mind, he was a gadgeteer, that Vitru. Alistair deGrey had his Mechanical Marvels. She will probably be selling golems. How about "The Golem Gallery"? Should she make an attempt at false mysteriousness and try "Golemus Gallerimus"? She chuckled at that. Nuits and their weird sense of humor.

She was now making lines on paper, a rectangles forming blocks resembling her shop's facade. The window was to the left of the door, she drew in soft strokes. She kept the sketching strokes as soft and few as possible. The sign board, which she will have to buy later, could easily be placed right above

the window. Jil lifted her pen and hesitated drawing it there, as she didn't like something too flamboyant to mark her shop. While she bid her time wondering, she started to draw thick and dark outlines. There was great resemblance to the shop when it came to shape and proportion, after all, the Nuit was used to drawing plans like these. There was a surreal appeal to it, the lines smooth, straight and well calculated.

Jilitse twirled the pencil on her finger. She jabbed at the paper and slashed four lines to make a square. Inside, in a seemingly cryptic but elegant script, "Mekaniks and Golams".

[Jilitse]

For a second time that day, Jilitse went outside her house/shop. She requested for a small sign at a nearby signs shop, no longer than her arm. The labor and materials cost her 1 gm. She picked up materials from Ruskit, surprised at herself for finding the man's shop even without McArdle's help. She had to wait on Ruskit, as most of her requested materials needed to be processed by an able carpenter. The Nuit managed to persuade the shopowner to let her watch how wood is worked on. Mostly there was a lot of hacking and cutting and polishing, and more polishing. Ruskit did everything by his own hands, unassisted with any machine. He was strong and steadfast, he didn't need a tape to measure his pieces. It was as if he knew what he was doing without having a conscious effort in doing so, Jil noted. Perhaps it came with experience. Jil came home with blocks and various rectangular wood pieces. Inside her satchel (which was for free, considering that she paid 50 gm all-in-all for Ruskit's services) was a myriad of prepared materials: handles, long and short, wheels and cylinders. She decided that she will create small items for now, and see which items would sell before making more. Maybe three pieces of about 4 to 5 items would suffice, and then she'll buy more materials as profit comes in. She was trying to choose between house items and toys, but was leaning more toward the latter. After all, even adults like toys, it was just a matter of technique and taste.

She would be extremely lucky to find someone who would teach her clockwork, Alistair deGrey never taught her how to make that interesting cuckoo clock. What's important now was that she had a means to hone her craft outside the concalve society of Sahova. Maybe not having someone to dictate what she needed to do was change for the better. She was her own boss now.

"Excuse me," she asked a man passing by. He seemed like he was an Alvad. "I just wanted to know if you know of any existing toy shop around here."

"There are plenty around, take your pick. Sorry, can't really help you. Keep walking around and maybe you'll find what you're looking for."

"Wait," she said, moved a little faster to keep up the man's pace. "I am wondering if you know of any toy shops. Special toy shops."
The man thought of her as a nuisance, but still answered, "Might be something around that corner." And pointed to an obscure alley to the left.

"Please," The Nuit tried to put emotion in her voice, "are you sure that there is one?"

She got the answer she was looking for. "I assume there should be one. This is a very huge, very, very huge bazaar. Sorry miss." He didn't even take a glance at her, "I'm busy searching for something else. It might do you better if you ask the shopkeepers. Runners or errand boys and girls if you can chance upon one..." He continued, but Jilitse had already stopped following him.

Nobody really had a map of the Bizaare. The whole market was filled with various shops, and none were arranged specifically. It was easy to get lost, unless you know where you're going. Again her memory failed her. No alley was ever the same, no passageway alike. It was instinct that allowed Jil to suspend her belief. Where her logic failed, her intuition was quick to assist. Illusions were fun when you stop overthinking and enjoy them instead, she thought. It would take more than a maze of shops to unhinge her composure.

Her stroll through the place - she couldn't admit to herself that she lost her way already - helped her notice that there were some shops that offered general merchandise, but those that offer a particular service or product were much more popular. The customer knew what they wanted and knew where to go and find it. She slid behind a particularly popular fruit shop and overheard one woman raving about being a regular and having a discount. Buy ten oranges, get one free apple. Establishing a relationship with your customer might be a good thing. At Sahova, this meant that the golems they sell would expire after a particular amount of time, in order to ensure that customers would come buy again. Hopefully she didn't have to resort to underhanded tactics like that around here. Maybe tomorrow she could check and see if Sahovan golems reach Alvadas, look around for competition.

"Well, that's enough for the day," she finally said. Her satchel was getting heavy, she had been alternating between her shoulders and her arms were getting tired. As she tried to retrace her steps - fighting off the feeling that she should walk backwards, if only to see if the streets would still change - she found herself in front of her own shop, her sign conveniently placed, exactly where she wanted it to be.

She paused and admired the sign. The pale brown wood was painted black on the engraving, so that the name stood out even if you were a few meters away: "Mekaniks and Golams". Quietly, she unlocked the door and tried to rest herself.

[Jilitse]

But rest didn't arrive that night, nor was inspiration a visitor. Jil, as far as being a Sahovan went, wanted to get started in the wares that she will be producing. And on a list went her ideas. "Mekaniks and Golams will be a shop for, mostly, animated golems, but there will be..." she thoughtfully added, "gadgets and maybe automatons." She murmured, "Toys, interesting and weird. Gadgets, useful yet intriguing." Scribbles appeared one after another on the paper as she spilled out her ideas. Some items she took from Sahova's projects, a number of cleaning devices for the interested. The goal was to become some form of specialty gift shop - mostly gadgets and toys. Planning ate the remaining hours of the evening, and dawn arrived soon after. By the first light of morning she was holding a pipe in her hand. A good sign. She had lost the habit of smoking after Syliras. There was just no need to, she guessed. Talking to herself was also a good sign. She ran with the motions and tried to remember what it was like to feel magic.

The Nuit that she was, the mage. Jil let go of the plans and turned the pipe on her delicate hand. "I haven't really made any golem in quite a while." In Sahova, projects came one after another. And if there was no golem to create, there was always one to repair. Outside Sahova where golems where uncommon, if not rare, she had no need to work like a machine. "I think now's the best time to light this pipe." And she smiled.

Finding her tinderbox was all she needed to do to make the scent of smoke waft inside the shop. Everything fell into order - lighting the pipe, taking a hit, and the next thing she knew she was holding a piece of chalk, carefully rubbing it into two side by side circles on the floor. The signs and glyphs easily followed, words in Ancient Tongue that were important to her spellcasting. She wrote down around the inner side of the circle, "Secret spellcasting words that cannot be revealed." It was a private joke, onlookers would never figure out what it really meant .Except those truly well-versed in the ancient tongue. And even then, the words had various translations that only a truly adept can read it as it is. Some said there were hidden meanings to the seemingly plain words, too. She held the chalk firmly with her fingers, and the pipe was snug between her teeth. Puff puff. It's the smell of the pipe, twirling in the air as she secured the two ritual circles. Light, but how long as it been since her last golem?

This done, she retreated to her chair with her gadgeteering toolkit on her lap. Not animating everything that she would be selling was an option, which was truly the logic behind the name of her shop. The Nuit would be selling both Mekaniks and Golams. The golems would be double, even triple, the price of the original. A broom versus an animated broom, maybe. She would test her luck at selling cheap items at first, and attempt better and specialized golems when she had more money.

She picked up the pipe from her mouth and blew rings of gray breath in the air. Money was going to be a problem out here. In Sahova you could request for a polished log and it will be delivered to you. Elsewhere, you needed to find a woodchuck who will sell a log, and a carpenter to do the rest. It took money to do these things, and making sure that you get a return of your capital was going to be a trade Jil had to learn. Earning profit, too. She sucked in the scent of burning dried leaves. The Nuit needed high quality stuff if she wanted to think clearly. The better the smoke, the better she thought.

Pulling her attention to the matter at hand, she brought out her material satchel. Ruskit was a fine gentleman, but his services were a bit expensive. At least he delivered quality materials and quality goods. Maybe if she became a consistent customer he'd give her a discount. Jil wasn't great at haggling. She began separating the pieces from the bag, arranging them on a mid-level shelf. There were blocks and cylinders for toymaking, and a few larger items for gadgets. The wires, according to length and thickness, and nails, according to size, and various metal objects, according to shape, she arranged on a small cabinet. Jil was used to being tidy. “If you had a lot of time on your hands and hated idle moments, you began finding things to do.” She hummed. Her attempt at organization was an attempt to be efficient - one must ensure that the workplace is always well-stocked and prepared.

Again, she turned to the animation circles drawn on the floor. It was right in the middle of the room. She should cover it with a rug one of these days, paint it so that there was no need to draw it over and over again with chalk.

She spent the rest of the day sitting, thinking, smoking, admiring her shop. “This is it,” she told herself after she inhaled the last of her pipe’s smoke, “let’s go apprentice, we’ve got lots of work to do.” Mashaen’s words. Mashaen, her inspiration.

[Fallacy]

XP Award! Name:Jilly XP Award: +3 Observation +5 Rhetoric +5 Planning +5 Organization +1 Writing +1 Body Building +4 Negotiation Lore: Karmesh McArdle Buying from Ruskit Creating a Shop The Way Alvadas Streets Wind Money is Always the Problem Looking for Specific Shops Mekaniks and Golams Notes: Please subtract 82.2 GM from your ledger (if you haven’t already) for the items listed in your third to final post. You may also want to make a location page for me to add to the linkmap. PM with any other questions or concerns.