If you can't grow stronger...

[Karuka]

...then be smarter about what power you do have.

Karuka couldn't remember where she'd heard that, exactly. She just knew that she seemed to be stuck in a rut - middling level of skill with her knives, and the one weapon she was good with was sturdy, but not incredibly dangerous.

It was time to fix that. She'd had her sturdy crimson staff for well over a year now, had beaten several men down with it and had let it protect her in too many dangerous situations to count.

Now was the time to make use of the familiarity she'd gained with it and make it more than a simple beating stick. And she knew exactly how she wanted it done, if she could afford it. She probably could. Money was power, great power, and over time, the red-head had acquired enough of it to significantly weigh her down. It was really the only power she had, and she had a specific idea about how to use it.

The Bazaar bustled around her, presenting each of its temptations in turn, but nothing seemed to have what she was looking for. She'd tried a shop with a poltergeist merchant who advertised bric-a-brac, and a couple of blacksmiths that could provide part of what she wanted, but couldn't so much as suggest someone else who could fulfill the other part.

She was about to give up and just go with what a blacksmith could give her when a rather plain looking shop caught her eye with a rather curious sign.


CYRIL'S
We have everything. I'm not kidding.

Well, surely such an outrageous claim deserved some follow up, and if it did have everything, including what she wanted, then how could she complain?

The red-head pushed open the door to the shop, stepping through with a soft but sure stride and looking around.

"So," she started aloud, "I've never seen an everything. What's it look like?"

She was surprised by her own words. She'd been wandering so long and had been doing brisk and efficient business with merchants of various types that when the occasional smart-alec banter crossed her lips and reminded her that she was still Irish, it was unexpected at best.

[Slayer of the Rot]

Thin, acrid smelling white smoke filled the shop, and seated at the counter was a vacant eyed Cyril Lagarius. His familiar, Bagley, stood close by his propped feet, holding a little brass pipe in it's hand. The object looked like it had been made out of discharged bullet casings. To the left of them sat a table top hot plate running off dwarven heat runes. On top of that was a pan sizzling and popping with hot grease.

"I don't think I mind that we didn't get paid for that last transaction," Cyril said raspily, fumbling with a pair of greasy tongs. He poked them into the pan and began to pile strips of bacon into a loaf of white bread he'd cut right down the middle. Partway through, he paused and stared out the window, then looked to Bagley.

"Hey...did you know...that you're a little burlap sack?" The familiar and the merchant stared at each other blankly then began to roar with laughter. Tears rolled down Cyril's face as he began to mindlessly wipe a butter knife caked in peanut butter onto the inside of the whole loaf of bread that was brimming with fried bacon. Raspberry jelly followed soon after. "Oh man...after this, we are so going to Hawaii..."

The door of the shop swung open and Cyril was out of his chair like a shot. Slices of fried bacon scattered through the air, and the heavy slab of bread dropped square down onto Bagley. "What are you talking about!" He shouted, ducking behind the counter. He carefully glanced up over, his bloodshot eyes wide.

"We got everything!" Her yelled, shuffling nervously in his crouch. "Everything depends on how much money you brought with you!"

[Karuka]

The smell alone would have driven her off on a normal day. While the exact scent was unfamiliar, Karuka could recognize similarities between the effects of the smoke that thickened the air in the dingy little shop and the smoke her village elders had used to induce visions. Her mother had scorned that method telling her that the false visions produced by plants were often even less clear than omens by cloud or sheep entrails.

Further marking the little shop as a scene of depravity were bottles that had rolled past the counter and gathered in the corners to plot out their revenge against the half-delusional man that stood behind the counter. There had to have been more booze consumed in this shop in the past week or so than ten men normally drank during all of the Solstice festivals.

Still, she rationalized, if she couldn't get exactly what she wanted out of this shop, she'd go back to a blacksmith and then try and find an enchanter, so she continued up to the counter, only to see the remains of what Cyril would have been having for lunch.

"I see...an 'everything' is a peculiar sandwich." She tapped her staff thoughtfully on the floor a couple of times. "I was hoping for something more akin to enchanted weapons accessories than a...unique diner. As to money? Enough to weigh me down, not enough to buy a house and live comfortably for the next thirty or forty years."

She could feel the acerbic scent of the smoke starting to cling to her, felt it cloying in her nostrils, and hoped she could be out before whatever they were smoking in here started to affect her.

[Slayer of the Rot]

Cyril slowly rose up from behind the counter, fumbling under before he finally struck the correct rune. The blinds and windows immediately shot open and sunlight sliced in like a shining blade invading a body. The smoke gathered in little funnels as it was sucked out of the windows, and soon enough, the shop had a pleasant smell once again. The merchant wobbled where he had been standing a moment before, squinting at the red head. Bagley had worked his way out from under the hefty sandwich, and having cleaned himself with a strange jade tongue, picked up the loaf and fed it directly down his mouth.

Cyril watched him, his shoulders jumping every few seconds with a laugh. "That looked like, really good. You should make me one." A sandwich, identical to the one the merchant had been struggling to make moments before, exited the familiar's mouth, fresh, the bacon steaming. Cyril chuckled slowly as he sat down, tearing a huge chunk from the loaf.

"Uh...we got lots of stuff like that, pretty lady. Prevalida's real good for stuff like that." As if on cue, Bagley hiccuped and a blue dagger popped out of his mouth. Cyril picked it up and looked it over. The weapon let out a weak glow and gold colins and other metal junk flocked to it, sticking soundly to the blade.

"That'd make a good offhand weapon," Cyril mused absently. "It'd be a real pain to fight against if it was at full power. Uh, anyway, what do you need?"

[Karuka]

Karuka gawked momentarily at the odd little burlap sack that not only ate, but also spat things back out. The lass would have dismissed it as a simple enchantment - after all, a sandwich, no matter how bizarre, was fairly easy and cheap to make.

When it hacked up a prevalida dagger, however... That was something else entirely, and more interesting still than the fact that there were environmental controls within the shop. The random bits of stuff that lined the walls were not what gave this shop its claim to 'everything,' it was this little bag and its rather odd ability to hack up whatever was asked of it. Perhaps the shop didn't have so much "everything"...but it did have "anything." And if it could give Karuka the anything she wanted, it would be close enough to having everything that she wouldn't complain.

She turned her gaze from the bag back to Cyril, setting her six-foot long Nihon staff on the counter. It was still in remarkable shape, despite the little nicks and abrasions that tended to happen to a staff during months of rough use.

"I was looking for something prevalida, actually. I'd like a prevalida cap for this, with a six to ten inch spike on it, sharp enough to pierce flesh."

That part, she was sure, was easy enough. She'd have been able to get that at any old blacksmith's. "I also want it to carry an enchantment. The enchantment should be lightning in nature, and strong enough to stun a person for a while, but not kill them. It should also only activate when I'm attacking."

She watched closely, blue eyes trained on the shopkeep for his reaction. "Can you do that? And what do you estimate the price to be?"

[Slayer of the Rot]

"Eaaaassssyyy," he said before biting into the enormous sandwich again. Bagley wobbled, swelled, and began to glow. A second later, his mouth yawned to incredible proportions and a humanoid shape spilled out and flopped to the floor. It immediately leapt to it's feet to reveal it's form; a strange cartoony version of Cyril himself. The merchant's hands slapped against his mouth and he let out a shrill childish laugh. Bagley joined in at once as the cartoon Cyril began to jig back and forth, his black eyes wide, wiggling his white gloved fingers.

Still laughing, though softer, the merchant bent over and produced a short, double barrelled shotgun from under the counter. Now he was shaking with laughter, and the cartoon leapt literally out of it's skin. The skeleton clattered in the air for a moment, screaming, then dropped back into it's body. Flame burst from the gun and tore the cartoon's head clean off it's shoulders.

Candy spilled from the gaping wound as the body dropped flat to the ground. Suckers, jawbreakers, straws of flavored sugar, caramels, chocolate bars, and others gushed in pulses as the familiar and merchant roared with laughter.

"Look what I can do," the sack croaked, and spit out two perfect spiked prevalida caps out onto the counter. Cyril picked them up carefully.

"Uhh...for something that can give a painful shock to someone...but not really stun them...about seven hunnert and sixty." The merchant tapped the cap against his palm and jumped, shaking his head. "For one that'll shock and stun for about...five minutes - " Cyril tapped the other against his palm. With a crack and a flash, he collapsed onto the floor.

"Eight hunnert and sixty," Bagley finished, giggling.

[Karuka]

As the candy exploded from the cartoon version of the merchant as though it had been a piñata under high pressure, a couple of more substantial pieces found their way into Karuka's amber hands - a really big bar of chocolate, and a lollipop about the size of her face.

Since it didn't seem that the two were done with the show, she bit into the dark, sticky bar. She'd never seen the point in having sweets before, since they were extra expenses for unnecessary items. But...since they were here and complimentary, and what, really, was a show without snacks? ... it was just too much temptation. The taste burst into her mouth, cloyingly sweet, but somehow too enticing to put down. There was powerful magic in this brown bar.

Somehow, she'd finished off the whole thing by the time Cyril had stopped giggling enough to start showcasing the wares, and took a deep swig of water to cleanse out her mouth before absently starting to nibble the rock-hard, red, blue, orange and green spiral of sheer sugar that had made its way into her other hand.

Normally, someone shocking himself unconscious would have been a cause of concern for Karuka, and she'd have at least made sure he was all right, but now she couldn't help but giggle along with Bagley. It was funny! DAMN, it was funny, and though her sides ached she couldn't stop giggling.

"I...can't," she gasped between bouts of laughter, "I can't believe he - he'd do that! This has to be the best shop ever!"

The world was rushing around her, and she had a desire to rush with it. She flitted to the counter, looking at the unconscious proprietor and the set of eight-inch brilliant blue spikes that had clattered to the floor with him. "I see why you stay here, little bag! But now I have to wait for him to wake up!"

She flittered around the shop, picking things up as they caught her eye - shiny and colorful things alike, but she always put them back down (with maybe a chocolate smudge on them).

"Which one would be better? Something mild for cheaper? But so many people don't take warnings well, don't you agree, little brown bag?" She muttered a bit in her native Gaelic as she looked at a little item with springs. It kept her occupied for all of eight seconds (as opposed to the average of four) because it was bouncy.

Apparently, the re-realization that people were not smart enough to take a mild shock and back off occurred to her a few moments later, because she started flitting back to the counter. "I'll take the...whoa!"

She'd stepped full-stride on a jaw breaker, and was now careening around the floor before she fell, doing a neat roll to come up on her feet and giggling more. "Whatever you were smoking, I think it got to me," she laughed as she finished making the journey.

She dug out coins, starting to count them out rapidly, hands almost shaking as she did. "I'll take the thing that knocked him out, and make it an even nine hundred if you can take my staff and make it like new again while you're fixing the cap on. What do you think?"

[Slayer of the Rot]

Bagley did not answer immediately, though. He was too busy opening his mouth far wider than it should have been able. From it, small metal tracks began to pour, running off the counter, across the floor, up the walls. More and more came out, until they nearly covered the walls, curving around the windows. A toy train set came from the familiar then, and set to running sluggishly across the tracks, defying gravity as it crawled across the walls and cieling.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh....I can take care of business, the bag rasped, picked up the woman's staff, and jammed it down his infinite throat. He tossed the cap as an afterthought. It's stomach swelled and glowed, and finally, the staff came sliding out, the cap affixed firmly to it's end as though it had originally been constructed as such.

"Na...no...nif...that price you said," the sack answered, and waddled across the counter. It pulled a big green blanket out of it's mouth and threw it across the unconscious Cyril, who was snoring loudly by this point in time.

[Karuka]

Karuka hadn't felt this heady of a rush since...ever. Each new sight demanded full attention for as long as it was new, and as each new thing came to her eyes, she forgot about the previous one.

As she plunked down the last coin, the train started rolling along. Naturally, such a curious sight was far more interesting than a mere transaction, and dropping her half-gone lollipop on the floor, Karuka watched wide-eyed as it made its way across the ceiling. By the time it had gotten back down the floor and halfway up the wall again, it was no longer new and exciting, so she turned back.

To her delight, she saw her staff, good as new and with its prevalida spike attached as tightly as if it was meant to be.

"Perfect!" Bouncing back over to the counter, she gave the bag a hug tight enough to break a man's ribs before picking up her staff and giving it a sharp whirl. The balance was a little off from what she was used to, but she got used to change fast.

"Thanks! I hope his head doesn't hurt too bad when he wakes up!"

With that, the red-head made her way out of the shop. Little did she know that when she came down from the sugar high, she'd have a headache of her own...

[Sighter Tnailog]

Since Dan's not around, I'll sew this up.

Karuka Tida pays 900 GP for a prevalida cap with lightning enchantment for her Nihon staff. It is also refurbished to be good as new.

EDIT: GP deducted.