Second ChancesThe Emporium of Pre-Loved Wonders was never as grand as the name implies, but after weeks of neglect and a violent raid, even this pawnshop has seen better days. Menace has worked hard to clean it up and repair the damage, but the signs of struggle still show - the shelves half empty, cleared of the pieces broken in the fight with the revenant, and the floorboards seem oddly out of shape where some planks were replaced with newer ones, the off-color telling the tale of haphazard repairs.
But despite the hardship, the old gleam is back in his eyes, as he arranges the new offerings on the shelves: trinkets brought back from Zot’Goran’s great bazaar. “And now, we rebuild…” he mutters to noone in particular.
All of a sudden, an unseen wave of warmth sweeps through the shop, bringing with it the smell of summer grass and the scent of strong old earth. As an aura of comfort and protection washes over him, Mace turns towards the shop’s entrance as the handle turns and the door swings inwards.
“I’ll just be a minute.” A soft, deep female voice says from outside. “Stay here.“ A placid whinnying sound can be heard in response; and a second later the owner of the voice steps into view. A small lilac-skinned tiefling with long wavy blonde hair and golden-green eyes enters the shop. She is clad in a simple robe of light green, and a cloak - seemingly made from living moss - is draped over her shoulders. A floral crown woven from irises, sage, and rosemary sits on two curving ramshorns that emerge from her hair. Around her neck hangs a dragon’s tooth on a faded yellow ribbon.
Mace’s eyes go wide as he sees the new arrival, quickly brushes his hands off his old coat, and performs an elaborate and deep bow. “Welcome honored customer! My door is always open, and if I am not mistaken, is it the Lady Sunday that graces my small place of business? I have heard much of your exploits ever since the Amaranthine Games, and your part in it. Truly, it is an honor to meet you, my lady!”
At the word ‘Lady’, the muscle in Sunday’s jaw seems to twitch once as she inclines her head and gently motions ‘up’ with her hands. “Please, ‘Sunday’ is more than enough of a name for me. And there’s no need to bow, Mace. It is Mace, is it not?”
Mace rises and smiles, “It is indeed. I see my reputation precedes me... I hope you don't put too much stock in rumours, some slanderous tongues have called me a
Menace, but it is just Mace to my friends; and I would very much like to think that we will become the best of friends...”
Sunday raises an amused eyebrow slightly at Mace’s last words, lips quirking into a half-smile. “Best of friends, is it? Are you on such good terms with all your customers..?” As though to underscore her question, Sunday’s gaze drifts over the interior of the shop in its current state of...refurbishment.
His smile becomes a bit more shifty, “I do try to be on good terms with all my customers! That way they return to me, and those tend to make for the best business connections. Alas, you see my shop not at the best of times, as I have had some…
remodelling to do recently. This is all in the past now though, and I hope that what you see here will please you! Maybe you are looking for a bargain on jewelry? Or a magic staff perhaps? I have recently brought in new stock, all the way from Zot’Goran! The war has caused a great deal of instability, and I feel for the poor souls there, but good deals can be sprung from such circumstances, and I endeavor to bring only the
best deals to my loyal friends and customers!”
Sunday laughs lightly, like a brook through a glade. “A strong pitch. That part of your reputation does precede you.” She cocks her head to one side and looks up at Mace. “I wonder if the rest of what I’ve heard is true, too…” Her eyes flicker for a moment. “I’ll trust you came by these items legitimately..?”
Mace nods vigorously, “Oh absolutely, I strive for the highest legitimacy in all my dealings. This amulet for instance was given to me by a famed Kul’Goranian general, Commander Howl, a family heirloom I understand. He gifted it to me for saving his
life at the battle of Fort Blackstone. The staff I received from my good friend Gegrun. We discovered it in an old temple of ancient Yuan-Ti. Some sort of cult, I believe.”
“A regular war hero as well as an enterprising businessman!” Sunday says with a gently playful smile. “I’m not sure I have much use for a ritual cult item - dark Yuan-Ti sects are on the rise in Kantas, did you know? Be careful with it - it requires a certain type to wield it. But this amulet - what does that do?”
Mace thoughtfully strokes his goatee as he recounts the story. “It is a strange thing, a marvel half of magic and half of mortals' ingenuity. Put it to your ear, just so, and you will hear the whirring mechanism inside. Commander Howl told me that he and his family have used it - in the heat of battle no less! - to execute carefully laid plans. The magic seems to bring a measure of certainty to the chaotic tides of fate. I am no wizard, but I understand you can use it to guide your hand in those situations when certainty is of the absolute essence! The proverbial thrust of the blade into the chink of a dragon’s scaly armor… Maybe not so proverbial after all?” he says and laughs.
“Most opportune.” Sunday nods. “And definitely not so proverbial; when I last killed a dragon, my tools were slightly blunter than a knife’s edge.” She gestures to the twin forge hammers hanging from her robe’s simple rope belt. “Is there a limit to its use?”
“I have yet to test its full potential, but it seems to require a rest period after use, the whirring grows lower then, so I suspect it needs to recharge. One use a day is certainly possible though!”
“And certainly more than enough if used adroitly. How much are you asking for it?”
Mace smiles at that, and nods appreciatively. “For a fellow tiefling? No more than it is worth! 800 gold pieces, and this treasure can be yours.”
Sunday’s smile widens like the sun emerging from behind storm clouds. “Come now, I thought we were best friends?” She unhooks a pouch from her belt and places a diamond and 20 platinum pieces onto the counter. “Cold hard cash right there in front of you.” She looks around at the empty shop. “I’d count that a good day of business in the current times.”
Mace opens his mouth to counter, but Sunday holds up her hand to forestall him. “500 and you can call on me for a favour when you most need it.” She grins cheekily. “If you really have heard of me, you’ll know that’s priceless by itself.”
Mace smiles at that. "So
bold! I
like you Sunday! And we tieflings have to stick together in this
cruel world. 500 and a favor, I can agree to that price - for a friend." he says, with a toothy smile and a wink.
“Done!” Sunday spits on her palm and holds it out to Mace.
As they shake on it, Sunday places her other hand over his and meets his eyes properly for the first time. This close, they’re like two still forest pools. They seem to look into him, strangely comforting and interrogating at the same time. “You’re right, you know, about war; about how it changes things. It often gives people second chances, the opportunity to start again.”
She releases Mace’s hand and puts another 10 platinum pieces down on the counter and looks round the shop again. “To help a ‘fellow tiefling’ start again.”
He nods, and absentmindedly runs his fingertips over the back of his hand where hers had just lain. "Second chances… I like the sound of that. I am starting again, and this time, there will be no shortcuts. Hard work is all that is needed…"
Sunday turns and leaves the shop, but Menace keeps looking after her. In his mind, the wheels started to turn again. They may have been out of sync for a while, but they were finding their proper place once more.
"Hard work… there is a lot that still needs doing."
