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Josiah really didn’t have much to say. This wasn’t his show. The three that came to the pawn shop with him stood silently. Coleen Sammae, who could chat up a storm to make potential buyers comfortable, knew the trio wasn’t there looking for something off the shelf, or to pawn or sell something—at least not yet. And if it came to that, her boss would probably work that deal.
The silence dragged on for a couple minutes. That annoyed Josiah so he asked Coleen Sammae, “Who’s the new runner?”
“Vernie. The boss’s nephew. Came on the job two days ago.”
She didn’t volunteer what happened to Ross, the previous runner, and Josiah didn’t bother to ask. He wanted to say something about Marigold, and the gnome healer outside. Coleen Sammae had been at the Blue Bugle that night. But it wouldn’t do for a conversation topic at the moment. Instead he asked, “Business good today?”
“Sold a gold necklace with sapphires today. Matching earrings.” She rested her hands on the counter. “Remember that serpent carved from a walrus tusk?”
Josiah remembered it. He was one of the few people in Three Hills City who knew what a walrus was. He looked back over his shoulder to where it’d been on the shelf for going on eight months. A set of blown-glass bowls with red striping sat in its place. He held his hands apart about eighteen inches. “The one about that big?”
Coleen Sammae nodded. “Pellan, the wine peddler. He’d been eyeing it since the day I placed it on the shelf.”
It was Josiah’s turn to nod. Pellan was a decent fellow. He collected odd pieces related to salt-water oceans. He’d shown Josiah several whale and giant shark teeth, and a turquoise and lavender-colored conch shell the size of a beach ball. Josiah didn’t bother to ask how much the wine peddler paid for the carving. Josiah figured Pellan had been saving a bronze coin here and a copper there, and squeezed every silver possible out of his buyers for the past eight months.
The pawn shop remained devoid of customers. Thogg did a top job of deterring casual browsers or individuals that didn’t have anything to pawn. Another half minute passed before Vernie opened the concealed door.
“Boss said to send the folks up.” The young boy met Josiah’s gaze. “He wants you to come on back too, Mr. Josiah.”
That request surprised Josiah. He was going to ask Gurk if he wanted a personal introduction, but it really wasn’t the young thief’s call. Was Higslaff worried about who he’d brought to the shop? Did he know something that Josiah didn’t?
Coleen Sammae stepped to her left and lifted the hinged part of the counter, allowing those invited to reach the back room. Gurk went first, followed by Lysine, and Marigold. Josiah followed close on their heels, pulling the door closed behind them.
Vernie led them through the storage room to the stairs that took them to Higslaff’s office. Josiah noted that the storage room’s shelves were only half full. Either outgoing business was brisk, or incoming inventory was slow.
Each item had a tag attached to it. From experience Josiah knew the tag held information neatly inked on it. If the item was pawned, it included the item’s owner, date pawned, amount given for the item, amount needed to regain the item, and date the agreement expired and the item belonged to Higslaff. On the tag’s reverse side was the thumbprint of the item’s owner. Similar information was inked on the tags for items sold or traded to the pawn shop. Josiah knew because he’d catalogued inventory while working for Higslaff and his now retired partner. That occurred after Josiah joined the local guild and before training to become a lay healer.
Despite the fact that many items on the shelves they walked past were interesting, the really valuable ones, including those with magical properties, were kept behind a locked door on the building’s third floor.
At the top of the stairs Vernie knocked on a thick wooden door. He waited a second, then lifted the latch and peeked in before stepping aside and allowing Gurk, Lysine, Marigold and Josiah to enter.
Higslaff’s office held a sturdy, utilitarian desk. It didn’t resemble anything like the polished oak counters and shelves in the display area. The desk held a few ledgers and scrolls, which the shop’s owner moved to the side.
Higslaff was a middle-aged man, possibly a year or two older than Josiah. He was balding and dressed in Victorian-type leathers, and wore what Josiah considered a sort of steampunk top hat, complete with a set of goggles. The man was a few inches shorter than Josiah and maybe ten pounds heavier. None of that meant Higslaff was out of shape, or couldn’t handle himself.
The goggles were magical in nature, and they included a jeweler’s double eye loupe mounted on them. The combined goggles and lenses enabled the pawn shop owner to detect enchantments as well as accurately estimate the quality and value of gemstones.
Josiah had a hard time imagining a handier tool for a pawn shop owner in a Monsters, Maces and Magic world.
Behind the desk was a narrow window too small for even the most anorexic of goblin thieves to fit through. Shelves with scrolls, books, unused quills and small urns containing ink filled the wall around the single window. As with all of the pawn shop’s rooms, magical light provided illumination.
To the left of the owner’s desk, along the adjacent wall, stood a table with a woman resting on a cushioned stool behind it. In front of the desk sat one low stool while in front of the table sat three stools, all without a cushion.
The woman wore her hair in a sort of beehive hairdo that Josiah associated with old women from movies made in the 1960s. Both her eyes and lips were narrow and showed little mirth. Her long nose didn’t help with her obviously low Appearance score, or that’s how Josiah thought of Sill Rochelle. The faded blue, flowing blouse and slate-gray skirt would help her blend into any crowd. The pommel of the sheathed dirk hanging from her belt looked like it hadn’t been polished in months. Like it hadn’t been drawn in years. Possibly that was intended.
She was a relatively recent addition to the pawn shop’s consultants. The enchantress began working for Higslaff after he and Keri Lovelace had a falling out. They remained friendly and in contact, just unwilling to work together professionally. Exactly what happened to create the rift, Josiah didn’t know. But Sill Rochelle? She was skilled, and probably higher rank than Lovelace. And had obviously never attended any form of charm school. Her angular face and body matched her flint-like personality.
Higslaff was on his feet and around the desk, demonstrating a spry dexterity. The yellowing teeth showing in his smile offered a friendly, average-fellow expression.
He extended his hand first to Gurk, then Lysine and finally Marigold as they introduced themselves. He nodded a greeting to Josiah before looking back up toward the tall elf. “Marigold, please lower your cloak’s hood. I prefer to see who I am dealing with.” Despite the ever-present raspy texture of his voice, it remained upbeat and friendly.
“Uhh,” Gurk said, “it’s my item, so you’re dealing with me.”
“Even so, if your associate persists,” Higslaff said, “I insist that she leave my shop.”
Lysine began to speak but Gurk got out his words faster. “Dude, why does it bother you?”
“How would you feel if I sat behind my desk, concealed in shadow?”
Gurk shrugged. “The customer’s always right?”
“I own this establishment.” Higslaff crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his desk. “I do not share your view.” His voice maintained a pleasant tone. “If you feel strongly about it, you may seek your answers somewhere else.”
“Fine.” Marigold threw back her cloak’s hood. She shook her head, unbunching her wavy, long dark hair. “Better?”
Josiah smiled to himself. Higslaff always managed to find a “reasonable” issue to establish dominance. But the results this time caught the pawn shop owner off guard. Marigold was every bit as beautiful as Josiah remembered her from the Bugle. He’d seen many stunning elves over the years, but she had to have at least a 19 Appearance score. His mind drifted back to that night, where she was on stage, inexpertly pole dancing to mismatched music. Later in the act, her blouse popped several buttons, threatening to release...
The barber shook his head and looked away at the desk, then at some of the scrolls, rolled up and tucked in a case along the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, the gorgeous elf had caught him staring.
Higslaff was much more composed in his reaction. “My lady, why would someone so lovely deign to hide her face?”
Marigold took his words as a question rather than a complement. “Because all I get is gapes, like your friend’s here.” She pointed dismissively with a thumb at Josiah. “The cloak isn’t coming off.” She crossed her arms. “Because you aren’t getting a better look at anything else.”
Higslaff’s broad smile hung on his face a fraction of a second too long. Josiah felt better knowing his friend had been distracted too.
Gurk lifted his satchel from his shoulder and plopped it on the cleared desk. “I have a dagger that’s enchanted.”
“So I was informed,” the pawn shop owner said. He gestured to his left. “That is why I asked Sill Rochelle to be here for your appointment. She is an enchantress who specializes in determining the type of enchantments various items may hold.”
The grim-looking spell caster nodded once and smiled. The expression appeared both forced and brief. She gestured to the three stools in front of her table.
Gurk picked up the satchel and the three took their seats, Gurk in the middle, Lysine on the left and Marigold on the right. Josiah turned to leave.
“Please, Josiah, stay a few moments.” Higslaff indicated with a nod toward the stool in front of his desk. The pawn shop owner didn’t move back to his seat. Rather, he sat down on the front of his desk. He pulled from a vest pocket three coins: a silver, a copper and a bronze. Paying some attention, he organized them so that the crown side of each was face up, and stacked them with the silver on the bottom, bronze in the middle and copper on top.
Josiah nodded understanding. The coins were magical. In that configuration, they created a Sphere of Silence. They were actually superior in that those within the Sphere could converse freely with their words not extending beyond the Sphere. Additionally, sounds from outside the Sphere were not impeded from entering—at least while the coins were configured in the manner in which they now sat stacked on the edge of the desk. The barber often wondered if there was only one effective configuration, or if other configurations created different effects? He’d never seen them used another way, and never asked. Higslaff, of course, had never volunteered.
More than once Josiah lamented the path he’d taken, to become a lay healer and a barber. The pawn shop owner not only was far richer than Josiah, but had access to far more interesting magical “trinkets.”
Gurk had already removed his curved dagger from the satchel and placed it on the table. Without prompting, he began explaining the weapon’s origin to be a goblin shaman killed in the Dark Heart Swamp. Providing as much background information as possible helped an enchanter identify any enchantments, and details about their effects. Of course, the rank and experience of a spell caster played a larger influence. But, any little bit improved the chance for accuracy to be achieved.
Josiah sighed, remembering he once equated such things to rolls of a d20, and sometimes 2d10 for percentage dice.