Field of the Dead - Shoppe of Forgotten Mementos

[freekender]

The shopkeeper looks over her selection. "Oh those are some of my favorites. The sword I've used personally."

She ponders for a moment. "I'd hate to see the sword for less than a few hundred thousand. That might sound steep... but it's perhaps one of my favorites in the shop."

"The choker." The woman leans forward to examine it, gripping her book tenderly in her lap. "The last person to wear it was strangely... hanged. I've heard several similar stories about it. Always something to do with... choking. But it is rather pretty, isn't it? Fifty thousand would be a fair price I think."

"The gloves are quite a prize. There was once a man who was quite a famous musician and... womanizer. I have heard his name mentioned in a dozen or more stories. They say that everything he owned when he performed took on qualities of him. Though, other stories say the items took pieces away from the man. In any case, these gloves were once his."

"A hundred thousand I think for them. Strange that I can't remember his name..." She does seem quite perplexed.

Turning her gaze to the idol, she almost seems as if it were on fire. "Oh yes, THAT. I've only ever seen this one, but the stories of it are... Well... I'll not mention..."

"It's quite valuable to some. Admittedly, I'm eager to be rid of it. Seventy thousand I think is a bargain."

The elf woman frowns, considering the merchant words. She looks to the idol with a different sight now. I... think I will... pass of that thing then... After some seconds retaining her eyes on the idol she looks to the blade and sighs. A fine blade indeed... Sadly I don't have enough gold for all, so I will buy the gloves and this choker. 150 bags of gold, right? She looks to the woman writting on her book, waiting for an answer.

[duracele]

The dwarf would listen to the lady`s talk. Finally he nods and says: "I be set on restocking my weapon supply. Name is Khentor and me got a stall in the east gate district. Visit me there to see if ya wuld be interested in acquiring some of me own items." He hands her a list, detailing his own merchandise. "If i don`t hear from ya in sum days time i might come back or i might not." With that he bows to the woman and leaves the structure headed towards the gate.

[zyztem]

Seeing several people entering and leaving the building without incident the white wolf disappears below the hill.

After a while a tall man with dark brown skin and long white hair walks into the building. If not for the height and the pale blue eyes one might even mistake him for a drow. He wears a chain shirt, carries a scimitar on his belt and a small wooden shield on his back.

He looks around the humble establishment, seems in awe. Then he turns his gaze to the shop keeper, eyes glowing in the dim light.

After a few minutes he relaxes, the glow in his eyes dissipates, and he nods toward the women.
"Strong magic radiates from all those items. I would never imagine seeing such a collection in a place like this."

Then he walks off browsing the wares.

"As much as I like to know every story behind every item you have for sale, it would take you too much time off your important work" he nods toward the book in front of the women and points towards two of the wares "just tell me more of this cloak and this helmet, so I can make a reasonable offer."

/// want to buy Bloody Rag and Vigilance

[Nayriak]

A bronze skinned Elf walks up to the secluded ruins within the barren fields. He wears a a laurel crown of colored leaves around his short, nutty brown hair, and he is dressed in a simple, yet elegantly crafted tunic and trousers. Emblazoned on his chest is a mithril shaping of a Setting Sun. //DC check Lore: Religion 15 to know whether or not it is the symbol of Labelas Enoreth//
He approaches cautiously, his step one of confidence and control, with eyes ever alert. After stopping briefly at the entrance, noticing the body within with the goods sprawled out, he scans outside one time more then steps in. Although her attention is down to some parchment, he speaks regardless, his voice deep yet melodious.

"You put quil to parchment in the most unusual of locations, strange one. And yet, I cannot blame you. I myself have pondered in some rather unusual locations. The wilds inspire me, as does the city, as does the barren wind swept plains." He gestures around. "Even here, there is a certain...inspiration."

After speaking, he gazes down to the wares, reading bits and pieces of each of piece. His gaze stops at a particular set of gloves and he makes his way over, eyeing it ever more closely. "And what is the tale behind this one, I wonder?"

Pitfighter Handwraps (gloves)
+3 eb
1d4 acid
1d6 sneak attack
Req. Monk

...the Elf continues his viewing. "And this piece? Can you tell me about this one?"

Forsaken Idol
+3 AC
Feat:Spell Penetration
Magic Missile (5) 5/day
Req Warlock

[Kaeldre]

With the sudden snap of her fingers, a woman clad in crimson robes appear a few yards from the ruins. She takes a brief moment to regard the sign outside. "Most curious" she utters.

After a few catious steps up the crumbling stairs, prying in through the doorway, her gaze lands warily on the cloaked figure inside. "A locale more hospitable than one would expect in a place such as this" she says as she glances to the items set on display. "Tell me, what is this supposed to resemble?"

[finneas]

*The bald monk spends long moments studying the woman as she peruses her papers perhaps trying to judge the severity of her warning. Eventually the youthful man's curiosity gets the better of him and he slowly moves to look but certainly not touch the wares. After several minutes of perusal the young clergyman returns to a proximity with the lady and asks after several of the items. He stands before he for a moment before deigning to speak.*

I humbly beg pardon, milady. Might I trouble you for the history behind this staff? It would appear that If I am to have any hope of making it clear of these fields, I will have to address my recent loss.

The monk turns and looks back toward his splintered staff with a remorse due an old friend no longer able.

[Theodore01]

As a young dervish travels thru the fields, he notices the strange melody.
Curious as he is, he investigates its origin. After watching and doublechecking about imminent danger he approaches.
His eyes are instantly drawn to the falchion.

"That one is of masterwork quality. May i ask who it belonged to ?
And" he hesitates a moment" is there a way i might acquire it ?"

[Selande]

After a time spent scouting Thunder's Ride all the way through the fields of the dead Cranston would notice the flickering lights emanating from the near ruin of a structure. Curious, he would spend a time watching from afar, perhaps noticing the occasional traveler wander in. Once certain those traveler's who enter also exit with regularity Cranston would carefully pack up his campsite as if no one were ever there and approach.

Upon entry he would give a wary nod and a small smile - causing a triangular scar on his left cheek to twist in a grotesque fashion his beard failing to hide all, but a small portion of the unhealed wound - to the woman and peruse the various wears. After a time he would approach her, pointing to the various stealth related items while offering greetings.

"A'fair day to ya lass, a right fine collection ye've amassed, sure as certain. I've an interest in some o' yer goods what might help a man stay hidden from tha beasts what stalk hereabouts. I'm not fer knowin' if'n I got any goods what ye'd consider tradin' fer, but 'ave a look an' see if ye'd be willin ta part wit any of 'em, yeah?"

Cranston would then take a sack held within his pack and show the elf woman various items he'd be willing to part with in exchange for a pair of clothing, gloves and perhaps the cloak she has on offer.

The woman seems to have just finished a meal. An empty bowl sits next to her, already forgotten as she is engrossed with her tome. Oddly enough, another empty bowl is across the room by the window. Only the shopkeeper seems present.

She tilts her head as she listens to the man, setting down her quill and leaning forward to examine his items.

"These would fetch a small fortune at any reasonable market, I'd wager. Unfortunately, I have no need for them." She idly fiddles with the corner of her tome. "A shame too, a few of those would have been immensely helpful a couple years ago." The shopkeeper sighs heavily. "That wouldn't have made for much of an adventure though."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loric closes his eyes and concentrates on taking in the vibrations of the world around him. He can feel them coursing through the ground, coursing through him as he falls in-sync with the rhythm of the world. He takes in a sharp breath and starts to hum in an extremely deep bass voice. He maintains this low drone as he travels through the troll claw mountains, the pitch such that it resonates perfectly with the returned echo. A slight disturbance in the resonance causes him to glance towards the fields of the dead. Seeing a dim light emanating from distant ruins, he decides to investigate.

He readily moves beyond the mountain pass and heads towards the ruins. After dispatching living skeletons with his black handled greatsword, he strides confidently towards the glow. Wearing a suit of armor made of the finest dark mithril, the grey-skinned Earth Genasi doesn't seem bothered by the macabre setting. He studies the woman and the layout of the display a few moments before speaking, "I am Loric Earthsong. Seeker of Knowledge in Oghma's name." He speaks with a pure, crisp bass and bows slightly. "Your presence here intrigues me. I feel there are stories to be told and songs to be sung. Perhaps, with your permission, I could start the exchange with an Earth song?"

The woman is writing in her tome. Without looking away from her work, she speaks with the man. "Oghma." She overenunciates the name, as if it were strange to her. "Hmm. I am selling stories here, I suppose. If you wish to hear one, perhaps an item might strike an interest." She gestures to her wares with her free hand.

"I do wonder what sorts of things would be of interest..." Almost spoken as if to herself. The hooded woman then quietly, almost playfully, whispers the word "Oghma" several times to herself, as she scribbles busily in her tome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A bronze skinned Elf walks up to the secluded ruins within the barren fields. He wears a a laurel crown of colored leaves around his short, nutty brown hair, and he is dressed in a simple, yet elegantly crafted tunic and trousers. Emblazoned on his chest is a mithril shaping of a Setting Sun. //DC check Lore: Religion 15 to know whether or not it is the symbol of Labelas Enoreth//
He approaches cautiously, his step one of confidence and control, with eyes ever alert. After stopping briefly at the entrance, noticing the body within with the goods sprawled out, he scans outside one time more then steps in. Although her attention is down to some parchment, he speaks regardless, his voice deep yet melodious.

"You put quil to parchment in the most unusual of locations, strange one. And yet, I cannot blame you. I myself have pondered in some rather unusual locations. The wilds inspire me, as does the city, as does the barren wind swept plains." He gestures around. "Even here, there is a certain...inspiration."

After speaking, he gazes down to the wares, reading bits and pieces of each of piece. His gaze stops at a particular set of gloves and he makes his way over, eyeing it ever more closely. "And what is the tale behind this one, I wonder?"

Pitfighter Handwraps (gloves)
+3 eb
1d4 acid
1d6 sneak attack
Req. Monk

The shopkeeper seems amused by the man's initial curiosity. "Quiet libraries and private studies are decent enough sometimes. Other times, it's more meditative to be amongst chaos. Crowded bazaars are an old favorite of mine.." She shakes her head as if to dismiss getting sidetracked by her own thoughts.

She looks up towards his inquiry. "Ah. That one is from very far away. It was owned by a.. well I suppose you might consider it a pet. Others might consider it a slave... but the creature never desired freedom. Is that a quality of a slave? I wonder.."

She looks back to her book and flips a few pages. "Quite the fighter, that one. His kind always fought to the death. He would dredge those wrappings in the ashes of his last opponent before his next scheduled fight. It was almost ritual-like, as I understand it. Some sort of prayer or way of honoring the fallen."

"Probably considered barbaric in these lands, however."

She searches a few more pages in silence, letting the man have a few moments to contemplate the tale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mendel nods to her and after considering it for a while

"What if I add this greatsword and falchion to the offered scimitar?"

// Greatsword +3EB +1d8Cold +1d4magic VS giants
Frost Falchion +4EB +1d4Cold
Flaming Flanchion +3EB, Keen, +1d4Fire

She looks over the blades pensively and then considers it quietly a few long moments, looking to her book and scribbling a bit but intermittently stopping midstroke as if weighing different aspects as she is reminded of them.

"Very interesting." She traces a finger idly in the blank spaces of her book. "I accept. I intend to make one a gift but it'll take some time to decide which. Do you know anything about them?"

She looks between the man and the torn cloak a few times, considering whether she should get up and fold it for him or if he'd rather do it himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draviir thinks ... "Hmm, I have many blades but no more swords that you request. In the meantime let me make an offer of five hundred thousand coins on the gloves. These are most precious to me and they are what I truly seek. I shall dispatch a message detailing my other goods more accurately on my return to Soubar. Does my offer on the gloves sound fair?"

The shopkeeper leans back for a moment, her gaze adrift as she considers.

"I think that's nearly what was paid originally. It's a deal, however. I'd like to see the story continue for them. Perhaps it'll bring you the same graces it did for the original owner. And maybe that'll lead some interesting business between the two of us." She pulls the spare piece of paper out again and jots down a few lines of notes.

"Since you're heading home already, I don't suppose you'd want it delivered by courier." She jests with him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The elf woman frowns, considering the merchant words. She looks to the idol with a different sight now. I... think I will... pass of that thing then... After some seconds retaining her eyes on the idol she looks to the blade and sighs. A fine blade indeed... Sadly I don't have enough gold for all, so I will buy the gloves and this choker. 150 bags of gold, right? She looks to the woman writing on her book, waiting for an answer.

The shopkeeper nods confirmation initially and then looks back at the gloves a second time. "Oh my mistake. I had forgotten those gloves sold to another. He should be coming by soon to pick up his purchase... I could have sworn I had a similar set somewhere around here though..." She seems genuinely embarrassed to have forgotten.

"The choker was fifty thousand, yes.. and if you'll reconsider the Idol, I'd sell it for fourty thousand as compensation for my earlier mistake. I'm not usually so forgetful. Just been so busy lately." The woman speaks as the room consists of only two people and probably crickets outside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dwarf would listen to the lady`s talk. Finally he nods and says: "I be set on restocking my weapon supply. Name is Khentor and me got a stall in the east gate district. Visit me there to see if ya wuld be interested in acquiring some of me own items." He hands her a list, detailing his own merchandise. "If i don`t hear from ya in sum days time i might come back or i might not." With that he bows to the woman and leaves the structure headed towards the gate.

The shopkeeper looks over the list of items with interest. "Quite a stall you have there. I probably won't go personally but I hope you don't mind me sending a messenger."

She offers the man a seated bow as he leaves. After another long glance at the list, she tucks it near the back of her book.

[Nayriak]

A bronze skinned Elf walks up to the secluded ruins within the barren fields. He wears a a laurel crown of colored leaves around his short, nutty brown hair, and he is dressed in a simple, yet elegantly crafted tunic and trousers. Emblazoned on his chest is a mithril shaping of a Setting Sun. //DC check Lore: Religion 15 to know whether or not it is the symbol of Labelas Enoreth//
He approaches cautiously, his step one of confidence and control, with eyes ever alert. After stopping briefly at the entrance, noticing the body within with the goods sprawled out, he scans outside one time more then steps in. Although her attention is down to some parchment, he speaks regardless, his voice deep yet melodious.

"You put quil to parchment in the most unusual of locations, strange one. And yet, I cannot blame you. I myself have pondered in some rather unusual locations. The wilds inspire me, as does the city, as does the barren wind swept plains." He gestures around. "Even here, there is a certain...inspiration."

After speaking, he gazes down to the wares, reading bits and pieces of each of piece. His gaze stops at a particular set of gloves and he makes his way over, eyeing it ever more closely. "And what is the tale behind this one, I wonder?"

Pitfighter Handwraps (gloves)
+3 eb
1d4 acid
1d6 sneak attack
Req. Monk

The shopkeeper seems amused by the man's initial curiosity. "Quiet libraries and private studies are decent enough sometimes. Other times, it's more meditative to be amongst chaos. Crowded bazaars are an old favorite of mine.." She shakes her head as if to dismiss getting sidetracked by her own thoughts.

She looks up towards his inquiry. "Ah. That one is from very far away. It was owned by a.. well I suppose you might consider it a pet. Others might consider it a slave... but the creature never desired freedom. Is that a quality of a slave? I wonder.."

She looks back to her book and flips a few pages. "Quite the fighter, that one. His kind always fought to the death. He would dredge those wrappings in the ashes of his last opponent before his next scheduled fight. It was almost ritual-like, as I understand it. Some sort of prayer or way of honoring the fallen."

"Probably considered barbaric in these lands, however."

She searches a few more pages in silence, letting the man have a few moments to contemplate the tale.

"Barbaric, yet honorable..." He takes a moment of pause as if contemplating something "Even among the primitive or less developed species they know honor. It is quite a fascinating trait quality, and one that steps beyond the boundaries of perceived reality. The problem with honor often though, is how it is seen and by whom." He looks down at the gloves before looking back up, speaking in a light melodious tone. "....I would like to purchase these gloves from you, merchant. The history intrigues me as much as does the enchantment on it. Would you accept one hundred bags of gold for such a relic?"

[freekender]

The shopkeeper nods confirmation initially and then looks back at the gloves a second time. "Oh my mistake. I had forgotten those gloves sold to another. He should be coming by soon to pick up his purchase... I could have sworn I had a similar set somewhere around here though..." She seems genuinely embarrassed to have forgotten.

"The choker was fifty thousand, yes.. and if you'll reconsider the Idol, I'd sell it for fourty thousand as compensation for my earlier mistake. I'm not usually so forgetful. Just been so busy lately." The woman speaks as the room consists of only two people and probably crickets outside.

Myrualae frowns for a second, reconsidering the new posibilities this issue implies. About one minute later she makes a new propposal to the shopkeeper. What would you say if I offer you two hundred bags for the choker and the rapier?

[gallimar]

A dark hooded monk approaches, a tiefling at that... His red eyes glow at you and he reveals himself from the shadow into the moonlight. The light strikes his scaley skin and his yellowish spiky teeth as he steps into the pale moon. He points at a certain pair of gloves and hisses at you, eyes widening with a gleeful smile.

With that smile he opens a blood stained leather pouch nodding his head up and down, as if to motion that if there were any a time to spend this strange type of currency, now would certainly be the time.

He empties the content into the palm of his pale blue skinned scaley hand and displays them to you. His long black finger nails cage them from escape.

You witness a hand full of Chicken bones!!!!!

Still without saying a word he awaits your response to his strange offering

[AC81]

Draviir nods to the figure, handing her a small bag of precious stones. He then accepts the gloves, tucking them away in his pack. "Very well, I appreciate the business and assure you I will visit again or would perhaps look forward to seeing you in Soubar soon. Farewell."

[LISA100595]

*Loriah, Morninglord of Lathander, can be seen dispatching the dead in the crypt in between and around customers on her usual rounds. She looks in the room where the merchant is, not much caring who she is or what she's selling. Her focus completely on the undead if any are around....*

Everything alright in here?

*she says as her gaze scans the room.*

[mrm3ntalist]

Mendel nods to her and after considering it for a while

"What if I add this greatsword and falchion to the offered scimitar?"

// Greatsword +3EB +1d8Cold +1d4magic VS giants
Frost Falchion +4EB +1d4Cold
Flaming Flanchion +3EB, Keen, +1d4Fire

She looks over the blades pensively and then considers it quietly a few long moments, looking to her book and scribbling a bit but intermittently stopping midstroke as if weighing different aspects as she is reminded of them.

"Very interesting." She traces a finger idly in the blank spaces of her book. "I accept. I intend to make one a gift but it'll take some time to decide which. Do you know anything about them?"

She looks between the man and the torn cloak a few times, considering whether she should get up and fold it for him or if he'd rather do it himself.

* Mendel turns and looks at the hooded figure *

"History? Nothing that I can remember. Most of the blades I offered you, I acquired them a long time ago and I dont remember much about them. This greatsword however, I traded for it recently. A bard... one of the Darius brothers... Fungi... No Fingal, yes thats the name, Fingal Darius.

I traded this greatsword from him so that would be the man to ask about its history if you ever meet with him"

* he kneels to pick the cloak the offers her the swords *

[Gilgamesh]

With a crackle of light a whiff of ozone the faint sent of flower and fresh alfalfa drifts in shortly after that a man merchant and planes walker Reflex walk in looks over the stuff hmmm that looks interesting I know some one that might want that. Points down at the clothing dose that enchantment on those protect from blows making it like armor
If so I Have a contact that will not be named that came into some pally gear he said he took it off a paladin after a monster kill the paladin but who know why ask such question

any ways what are you looking for those dark garb he I will arrange a trade he well my contact always can find good stuff to trade and if not trade what kind of price in coin *show a lot of bags of coin * this is just to let you know I am real * hides them again under his cape*
thanks let me know what you think

I forgot to put this stuff down as an offer opps
Great to have you on the forums! This is the item I'm interested in IF +4 eb = +4 Armor AC.

Dark Garb (clothes) **
+4 eb
+3 reflex
+4 Hide
+4 Move Silently
+4 Open Lock
+4 Search
+4 spot

Before chatting with you I thought a heroic paladin (who happens to worship the same god as Selande) could be engaged in combat with some legendary monster when some sort of evil group sneak attacks him/her. All perish to the monster. Oki (or someone else) cautiously scavenges the fallen Paladin's things.

But a story from another plane of your creation sounds more interesting!

Blue Dragon Breast Plate +4
AC Bonus: +4 (Armor)
Material: Creature (Dragonhide)
Resistance: Electrical 10/-
Use: Arc of Lightning 1 Use/Day
Use: Chain Lightning (15) 1 Use/Day
Use: Dragon Breath, Lightning 1 Use/Day
Weight Reduction: 60% of Weight
Level Required: 19

The Bronze Tall Cloak
AC Bonus: +4 (Deflection)
Enhancement Bonus: Charisma +3
Damage Immunity: Fire 5% Immunity Bonus
Level Required: 16

Fighter Combat Boots, Epic
AC Bonus: +4 (Dodge)
Bonus Hitpoints: +10
Skill Bonus: Intimidate +4
Only Usable By: Fighter
Level Required: 17

enchanted dagger (( +4 eb))