Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

kleomenes wrote:The man's gait and garb may be familiar to the shopkeeper, as might the lilt in his voice. It is weapons he pauses at, mostly, although the amulet Sheen does draw his eye, only to be dismissed.

When the man replies, he answers her question first. "Not for some years. Although cruel words and cruelty in negligence are more recent."

He would look back to the blade, then. "I remember a blade of similar shape though. Its sharp blade struck me across the eyes, blessing me with sight, so that I could behold the true meaning of the ideal I served, and know my duty."

A soft chuckle, he looks back to the Shopkeeper, an apologetic tone. "Metaphorically, I mean."

He looks back down at the blade, then to the Shopkeeper. "I remember a blade much like this breaking a rack, even as other walls tumbled down. I remember a blade like this spilling the blood of cruel demons, surrounded by the pillars of the Triad. Such is the memory a blade like this has for me."

He pauses. And his tone continues with softness. "So I would like to trade for it."

The shopkeeper doesn't seem to take his words to heart. Instead, she might even sound a bit dispassionate. "That's quite the interest. Strange to sell something with so much story to one who wishes it as replacement for something missing from his. Do you think this blade has cruelty enough to sate you? Is it something you're drawn to with purpose or are you simply collecting trinkets that look pretty for your mantelpiece?"

The cloaked woman is quiet for a few moments as she watches the man. Her tone then notably brightens. "Men do grow old and lonesome, after all. Collect pretty things while you are young."
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Theodore01 wrote:"First blood...........can't really remember when that happened. But what i never forget is the first person i had to kill in self defence. His bloody lifeless eyes will haunt me forever i fear. Do you have any advise how to handle those memories ?"

he ponders.....

"So you did wield that fine blade yourself, guess you are skilled blademaster." he looks at her with awe. "Would you teach me a few moves, as i wonder if i could keep my balance and flow with such blade?"

The hooded woman shakes her head at his question. A tone of amusement soaks her words. "Truthfully, I have very little skill with a sword. Even less with a bow. They're still good things to keep handy, however."

She taps the same stones again with the now shortened stick studiously though without any apparent pattern. "As for memories, you should write them down. That'll keep them from haunting your thoughts and makes them easier to forget." The woman looks towards her tome for a moment. "You can visit them instead of them visiting you."
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LISA100595 wrote:* Loriah, Morninglord of Lathander can be seen in the crypts once again, scouring them dutifully and thoroughly. She would stop in to the shop to look around, offering a smile to the sales person even, then gracefully slip out the door and on her way with perhaps a nod or wave goodbye. *

The shopkeeper would greet Loriah pleasantly each time she visits, perhaps becoming expectant of the Morninglord's arrivals.
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sinopip wrote:The fire genasi took a breath after a long day under a cloudy sky. He went through many places in the north of Baldur's Gate from the Fields of the Dead to the northern Crags and then to the High Moors. He did the way back from this path he followed, with a steady pace, as it seemed that no trolls, bears and other creatures stopped his passage.

As he approaches the crypt, he notices the unusual. He came here before, though it was months ago. He hears the melody. Under the cover of invisibility magic, he quickly goes forth, looking for some evil necromancer ritual, but what he sees makes him perplex. He dismisses his invisibility and says in a neutral tone : "Good day.", looking up to the cloaked figure
The fire genasi takes a little time to familiarize himself with the place and looks at the items on the blankets. "So you're trading with artifacts? Odd place to do this." He examines them with curiosity. "I may be in need for a new weapon and I'm interested in the ones you have. Do you want a price? Or for that one, " he points to the scimitar, "I'd trade it for my auxiliary mithral fullplate. It is more effective in deflecting undead physical attacks, if you don't have other means of defense. This came enchanted by the Order of Aster during the 1351 war." (((+3 Armor AC versus Undead)))
The fire genasi makes a few simple requests for a price for the Frozen Courtblade, the Frozen Heavysword, the Heirloom "Velve" and the Bolt rapier, and also for the Sages Serpent ring. "If you don't agree with the trade I'm proposing to you, then I could buy the "Bolt" rapier for a gold sum I can handle... But then I'm awaiting your decision about that." The fire genasi gives a small smile.

The shopkeeper nods at his greeting and lets him browse as he pleases. When he speaks of items she would lean forward at each mention and listen without disruption. "It's usually a last resort for me to actually battle something myself. Even though the armor would be quite useful, I can't trade that sword for it. I'm looking to trade it for another blade instead."

She listens to his requests about the other items each in turn. "I don't really have a price in mind. The two heaviest swords are newly acquired. I had nearly forgotten about that ring entirely..." She tilts her head and looks at where the ring rests curiously, as though suspicious of it.

"The lighter sword is one of my favorites though. I've had it for ages and it's never disappointed me."

"Alright. I already have a magical longsword which will be sufficient to me, as the rapier is dear to you... perhaps too much for me."
The fire genasi looks at the ring once more as the cloaked seller fixes it. The fire genasi says with some slight hesitation : "I wished to buy the ring, but I now notice there is some odd glow coming from it... it repels me." The fire genasi is about to leave.

A cat wanders into the ruined building, far too fat for a stray with a sheen in the air about it suggesting strong magic.
With an air of complete disinterest in everything it proceeds to lick its unmentionables before ensuring the shopkeeper has a clear view of its backside as it slinks into the darkness.
A few moments later a blue pointed hat appears from behind one of the broken walls followed shortly by a gnomish head.

"You're not some kind of umm... hideous, faceless, undead, soul eating monster are you?" she asks.

Selande wrote:The shopkeeper doesn't seem to take his words to heart. Instead, she might even sound a bit dispassionate. "That's quite the interest. Strange to sell something with so much story to one who wishes it as replacement for something missing from his. Do you think this blade has cruelty enough to sate you? Is it something you're drawn to with purpose or are you simply collecting trinkets that look pretty for your mantelpiece?"

The cloaked woman is quiet for a few moments as she watches the man. Her tone then notably brightens. "Men do grow old and lonesome, after all. Collect pretty things while you are young."

There is a noticeable flicker in the man's green eyes as he notes the dispassion in the shopkeeper's voice; a noticeable furrow of his brow. It is not alleviated by the brightening of her tone; if anything it is worsened. He does not look away, though, and rallies.

"With purpose, lady." He says firmly. "I have learned through bitter mistakes that sentimentality can be a fog obscuring worthy endeavours, and that greed for..."

The man pauses, for some reason. "...for trinkets, is a fools errand even for those who have luxury to admire their prizes. As the greedy do not see a thing's real worth; only what a thing means to them. An act of tyranny I have often been guilty of."

The man's gaze drops to the Velve again, thoughtful. There is a whistful tone in his voice. "I have been reading discourses on detachment as a path to compassion, but I struggle with the lessons. Sentimentality might be a fog, but to have symbols to remind and reaffirm intent is no bad thing. To feel is to be alive. Cruelty can be unfeeling indifference, but compassion requires some form of love."

He looks from the blade to the shopkeeper. "There are many sharp things here. This blade may be cruel, but what blade is not, when turned to a wrathful purpose? I would use this blade to keep me, and others, safe while I travel; it would be a comrade to me, and me to it. Long may it be so, as humans measure it. I find that fitting, given the memories the blade brings forth in me. So no, it is not a trinket for my mantlepiece, and yes, it is cruel enough for me, although I make no admission as to how cruel that is, for I think we would disagree. Thus, may we trade?"

And with that his short speech comes to an end.

sinopip wrote:"Alright. I already have a magical longsword which will be sufficient to me, as the rapier is dear to you... perhaps too much for me."
The fire genasi looks at the ring once more as the cloaked seller fixes it. The fire genasi says with some slight hesitation : "I wished to buy the ring, but I now notice there is some odd glow coming from it... it repels me." The fire genasi is about to leave.

The shopkeeper would eye the ring with growing scrutiny but otherwise allows the fire genasi to wander around and egress if he chooses. If left with ample time, she would open her tome and review an earlier chapter.
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NeonAvenger wrote:A cat wanders into the ruined building, far too fat for a stray with a sheen in the air about it suggesting strong magic.
With an air of complete disinterest in everything it proceeds to lick its unmentionables before ensuring the shopkeeper has a clear view of its backside as it slinks into the darkness.
A few moments later a blue pointed hat appears from behind one of the broken walls followed shortly by a gnomish head.

"You're not some kind of umm... hideous, faceless, undead, soul eating monster are you?" she asks.

The shopkeeper probably doesn't notice the cat at all, reading her tome. When the gnome speaks, she would answer without lifting her gaze from her reading. "A strange question. I'm not inherently threatening if that's your concern. Some of my trinkets might be though. If you look around, do so with care."
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kleomenes wrote:There is a noticeable flicker in the man's green eyes as he notes the dispassion in the shopkeeper's voice; a noticeable furrow of his brow. It is not alleviated by the brightening of her tone; if anything it is worsened. He does not look away, though, and rallies.

"With purpose, lady." He says firmly. "I have learned through bitter mistakes that sentimentality can be a fog obscuring worthy endeavours, and that greed for..."

The man pauses, for some reason. "...for trinkets, is a fools errand even for those who have luxury to admire their prizes. As the greedy do not see a thing's real worth; only what a thing means to them. An act of tyranny I have often been guilty of."

The man's gaze drops to the Velve again, thoughtful. There is a whistful tone in his voice. "I have been reading discourses on detachment as a path to compassion, but I struggle with the lessons. Sentimentality might be a fog, but to have symbols to remind and reaffirm intent is no bad thing. To feel is to be alive. Cruelty can be unfeeling indifference, but compassion requires some form of love."

He looks from the blade to the shopkeeper. "There are many sharp things here. This blade may be cruel, but what blade is not, when turned to a wrathful purpose? I would use this blade to keep me, and others, safe while I travel; it would be a comrade to me, and me to it. Long may it be so, as humans measure it. I find that fitting, given the memories the blade brings forth in me. So no, it is not a trinket for my mantlepiece, and yes, it is cruel enough for me, although I make no admission as to how cruel that is, for I think we would disagree. Thus, may we trade?"

And with that his short speech comes to an end.

The shopkeeper shrugs after his speech somewhat defeatedly. "Swords are tools of war. If that's what you wish, I will trade it."

She pauses a few moments before continuing. "I've been tasked with finding faith. A grim and arduous prospect that I'm also seeking tools for."

Eventually a dark-cloaked woodsman and his faithful hound, Rain, make their way to the ruins and the trinket filled haven it holds. Michael looks about in small wonder at the gathered articles, when his gaze reaches the shopkeep, he'd tug the brim of his hood in her direction.

"Bright dawn, ma'am. Never thought to find a camp like this in these parts. Best I ken it, as word travels, you're after holy things, knightly things. Brought a little trade with me, to see how far it'd pick at your interest."

With that, he takes a small, platinum ring from a pocket, offering it up for the shopkeep's inspection.

"As it was told to me, this band helps a knight's memory, another dawn, another prayer. What do you say, ma'am?"

//Ring, with paladin spell slot level 4

Selande wrote:The shopkeeper shrugs after his speech somewhat defeatedly. "Swords are tools of war. If that's what you wish, I will trade it."

She pauses a few moments before continuing. "I've been tasked with finding faith. A grim and arduous prospect that I'm also seeking tools for."

The figure's gaze rests upon the shop keeper. His eyes narrow slightly, briefly. After a moment or two of silence, he speaks in a conversational, familiar tone.

"I was bid to come here, but my trade has already been made. It was a gift, but it was decided that, in return, trade be offered back to me. So I looked at what was here and found a thing or two of importance."

He takes a few steps towards the shopkeeper. "May I sit?" He asks, gesturing towards a suitable empty space a proper distance away. "I would like to hear of your grim endeavour, and the tools you seek, if I may."

The shopkeeper probably doesn't notice the cat at all, reading her tome. When the gnome speaks, she would answer without lifting her gaze from her reading. "A strange question. I'm not inherently threatening if that's your concern. Some of my trinkets might be though. If you look around, do so with care."

"Inherently threatening..." she considers the phrase for a moment before stepping out from behind the rubble "Guess that's good enough".

She wanders from item to item inspecting each one, peering at the scraps of parchment and occasionally, when she thinks it's inconspicuous, tries to peer at whatever the shopkeeper is reading.

She partially unsheathes the frozen greatsword, closely examining the guard.
"What're all the bits of parchment for?" she asks as she takes a small flask of an amber coloured liquid and places it on the exposed part of the blade.

The woman considers the shopkeepers words for a moment, before closing the pouch she just opened. Instead she unfastens it from a metal ring strapped to a leather band that wraps over her shoulder from her hip."A fair price, indeed", she says as she lends the shopkeeper the small pouch."50 bags then, since it isn't me who is going wear these exquisite gloves".

A clockwork ticking, accompanied by heavy footsteps and the sounds of churning gears, may be heard on approach.

After a brief delay, the head of a small gnome can be seen peeking around the corner. On his head is a finely made top hat, set with a small, deeply colored ruby. His beard is well manicured and waxed to a sharp point. He looks around the room as if looking for danger before relaxing enough to enter. He is dressed in fine garments, and speaks with a melodic, foreign lilt.

"Well met and then some, milady.. uh.. yes, milady. Parts and pieces, pieces and parts, looking for a bit of anything here.."

He edges himself around the room, careful not to touch anything. In one hand he holds a length of twine, marked in dark ink at regular intervals. In his other he holds some sort of monocular eye glass.

As he approaches the "Frozen Heavysword" his eyes alight, and he goes to work, muttering to himself while looking it over. He does his best to measure it for length, diameter of hilt, and inspects the steelwork with his eyeglass (//PM sent with hopes of results of his inspection).

"Milady. Uh, yes. This sword. The big one. How much gold would you ask for it?"

The slender woman smiles beneath her silver cowl. "Suffice to say it is, if I were to believe your colloquial reference being what I understand it to be", the woman states with a wry wink. "60,000, as you wish, it is yours for the armor", she tells the seller without a further word.

YourMoveHolyMan wrote:Eventually a dark-cloaked woodsman and his faithful hound, Rain, make their way to the ruins and the trinket filled haven it holds. Michael looks about in small wonder at the gathered articles, when his gaze reaches the shopkeep, he'd tug the brim of his hood in her direction.

"Bright dawn, ma'am. Never thought to find a camp like this in these parts. Best I ken it, as word travels, you're after holy things, knightly things. Brought a little trade with me, to see how far it'd pick at your interest."

With that, he takes a small, platinum ring from a pocket, offering it up for the shopkeep's inspection.

"As it was told to me, this band helps a knight's memory, another dawn, another prayer. What do you say, ma'am?"

The shopkeeper returns a nod to the man as tugs the brim of his hood. After inspecting the ring she would reach into a pouch and after a short length of searching, produce a very similar ring to show to the man. "Afraid someone must have already made this trade with me once. Though I still haven't quite found proper use for it yet, I hope to someday."

Somewhat disheartened, the shopkeeper puts the ring back into the pouch as one might a gold coin. "I am looking for holy items though, blades especially. You seem like you've known something sharp once or twice in your travels. I suppose that could be said of most my visitors."

She then lowers her hooded gaze to the hound, almost studiously examining the creature.
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kleomenes wrote:The figure's gaze rests upon the shop keeper. His eyes narrow slightly, briefly. After a moment or two of silence, he speaks in a conversational, familiar tone.

"I was bid to come here, but my trade has already been made. It was a gift, but it was decided that, in return, trade be offered back to me. So I looked at what was here and found a thing or two of importance."

He takes a few steps towards the shopkeeper. "May I sit?" He asks, gesturing towards a suitable empty space a proper distance away. "I would like to hear of your grim endeavour, and the tools you seek, if I may."

"Bid I suppose it was. You may take the blade when you depart." She motions him consent to sit where he has chosen.

"I should have phrased it differently. Obtaining faith. I'll do so first with the tools most familiar to me. Ideally, a consecrated blade of sorts."

She looks around the shoppe consideringly. "Some of this is towards that effort."
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NeonAvenger wrote:"Inherently threatening..." she considers the phrase for a moment before stepping out from behind the rubble "Guess that's good enough".

She wanders from item to item inspecting each one, peering at the scraps of parchment and occasionally, when she thinks it's inconspicuous, tries to peer at whatever the shopkeeper is reading.

She partially unsheathes the frozen greatsword, closely examining the guard.
"What're all the bits of parchment for?" she asks as she takes a small flask of an amber coloured liquid and places it on the exposed part of the blade.

The blade would probably frost over whatever the liquid was. It's a very cold sword.

The shopkeeper continues her reading, almost absently attending the conversation. "Those are the writings I know the items by. Mostly journals and such. I don't intend on keeping those either if someone purchases the associated item."
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Kaeldre wrote:The woman considers the shopkeepers words for a moment, before closing the pouch she just opened. Instead she unfastens it from a metal ring strapped to a leather band that wraps over her shoulder from her hip."A fair price, indeed", she says as she lends the shopkeeper the small pouch."50 bags then, since it isn't me who is going wear these exquisite gloves".

The shopkeeper takes the pouch and nods. "It is certain to please whomever it is intended."
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Planehopper wrote:A clockwork ticking, accompanied by heavy footsteps and the sounds of churning gears, may be heard on approach.

After a brief delay, the head of a small gnome can be seen peeking around the corner. On his head is a finely made top hat, set with a small, deeply colored ruby. His beard is well manicured and waxed to a sharp point. He looks around the room as if looking for danger before relaxing enough to enter. He is dressed in fine garments, and speaks with a melodic, foreign lilt.

"Well met and then some, milady.. uh.. yes, milady. Parts and pieces, pieces and parts, looking for a bit of anything here.."

He edges himself around the room, careful not to touch anything. In one hand he holds a length of twine, marked in dark ink at regular intervals. In his other he holds some sort of monocular eye glass.

As he approaches the "Frozen Heavysword" his eyes alight, and he goes to work, muttering to himself while looking it over. He does his best to measure it for length, diameter of hilt, and inspects the steelwork with his eyeglass (//PM sent with hopes of results of his inspection).

"Milady. Uh, yes. This sword. The big one. How much gold would you ask for it?"

The shopkeeper looks up as she is greeted by the small gnome and nods to him as he then wanders the shoppe as he pleases. She would watch him with some interest, given the slightly odd nature of the man. The hooded woman would glance to the entryway wondering what was making the mechanical noises but she would return to watching the man with satisfaction.

When asked about the sword she would glance back to the door once, then to an empty far window as if expecting something to be there then back to the man somewhat disappointedly. "It's newly acquired. I hadn't thought of gold in trade for it. I was hoping for something smaller but nearly as sharp and well crafted. Though gold might aid in that pursuit some, I've had little luck even catching rumor of what I'm looking for."
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Bad Omens wrote:The slender woman smiles beneath her silver cowl. "Suffice to say it is, if I were to believe your colloquial reference being what I understand it to be", the woman states with a wry wink. "60,000, as you wish, it is yours for the armor", she tells the seller without a further word.

The shopkeeper nods and gestures the woman towards the item. "It will be quite useful, I'm sure."

Selande wrote:"Bid I suppose it was. You may take the blade when you depart." She motions him consent to sit where he has chosen.

"I should have phrased it differently. Obtaining faith. I'll do so first with the tools most familiar to me. Ideally, a consecrated blade of sorts."

She looks around the shoppe consideringly. "Some of this is towards that effort."

The figure sits, and places his pack before him as the shopekeeper speaks, searching through it for something. A drinking flask is taken out, and offered to the shopkeeper. Sealed, to be drunk either now or later.

There is a smile in his eyes at her words.

"I can see why a search might begin with familiarity, and a thing outside. If you find faith, though, it will take root within."

The blade would probably frost over whatever the liquid was. It's a very cold sword.

The shopkeeper continues her reading, almost absently attending the conversation. "Those are the writings I know the items by. Mostly journals and such. I don't intend on keeping those either if someone purchases the associated item."

"I'm interested in the belt (( Precursor Belt )) and the blade here" points at the Frozen Heavysword.
"Though I have the sneaking suspicion I won't be able to afford them".
Approaching the heavysword again she says "I don't suppose there's a story with this one? The client I have in mind is rather particular about that kind of thing".

She picks up the small flask, eyes the frost on it, then removes the stopper and takes a swig, letting out a pleased sigh, then holds the flask out offering it to the Shopkeeper.

kleomenes wrote:The figure sits, and places his pack before him as the shopekeeper speaks, searching through it for something. A drinking flask is taken out, and offered to the shopkeeper. Sealed, to be drunk either now or later.

There is a smile in his eyes at her words.

"I can see why a search might begin with familiarity, and a thing outside. If you find faith, though, it will take root within."

The cloaked woman doesn't react to the offered flask. "I doubt that very much. Faith was first something you find, others say it finds you. It doesn't seem to take root, as I've found many."

She shifts her weight where she sits. "Perhaps it can be bartered, as many speak of sacrifice and vows. What is and isn't allowed. Tenets." The woman nearly spits the last word.

"While you now own my first sword, and I am here partially to ease these burdensome memories, the lessons learned by that blade will always remain part of me."

She falls quiet for a few long moments, mulling over which words to use with her current company.

"I've shared some. There will come a time when I am able to share the rest. But first, the familiarity. I have need of a proper blade for the task."
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NeonAvenger wrote:"I'm interested in the belt (( Precursor Belt )) and the blade here" points at the Frozen Heavysword.
"Though I have the sneaking suspicion I won't be able to afford them".
Approaching the heavysword again she says "I don't suppose there's a story with this one? The client I have in mind is rather particular about that kind of thing".

She picks up the small flask, eyes the frost on it, then removes the stopper and takes a swig, letting out a pleased sigh, then holds the flask out offering it to the Shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper looks away from her reading momentarily, peering towards the object in question. She raises a hand to deny the offered flask. "That's something newly acquired. I haven't had the opportunity to learn its origin. Though there is a man... a..." She looks back to her tome and pulls out a scrap piece of paper kept near the back binding. "Fingal Darius. He'll know more about it. I merely own it." She says the last bit with some annoyance.

"Curious choices though. Are you drawn to them for any particular reason?" The shopkeeper looks at the gnome appraisingly.