Florie slammed her fist on the table, making Gunnar jump. "But they were the best paying customers we've ever had! They were the only reason we could afford a herd of cows in the first place, and now you'r saying their patronage is suspended? Indefinitely?"
Bernon spoke up with concern. "Listen, we're sorry that you've lost some revenue over all this, but that rich guy was a madman who was plotting to take over the world! We couldn't just let him do whatever he wanted. Maybe the village we come from would like to trade with you? I bet they'd love some more variety in their diets, and even if they couldn't pay as much, they could probably make it worth your while."
Florie did not look appeased. "Does that village have the manpower to help us defend our herd from bandits? That 'madman' you offed gave us soldiers and weapons of our own, but the soldiers are gone now and our guns will be useless soon if we can't get more ammo for them!"
Bernon straightened excitedly. "There's where you're in luck! I can teach you how to make your own bullets!"
Florie blinked. "You can?"
"Yeah! This guy I knew taught me how, it's really easy! You have lots of metal around here, right?"
"Sure….there's junk everywhere in the woods."
"And do you have a smithy?"
"We have a community workshed with a big fire and some tools."
"Close enough." Bernon grinned proudly. "Once you know how to make bullets, you'll never run out and you can protect your cows all by yourself!"
Mike watched them talk for a minute, then turned to Tanrial. "Time's wasting. Let's you and me go find the map-maker while he irons out the details, okay?"
She nodded, "Probably a good idea. We might have to drag Bernon out of here later, though."
"Most likely." Mike made for the door and pulled it open. "Hey Bern, we're gonna keep shopping. You catch up later, alright?"
"Oh, uh, sure," Bernon said, busy working out some calculations at Florie's desk. "See you in a bit. Good luck."
"Right back at you." She smiled before the two left the building. It was spitting with rain, clearly holding off from the proper down pour a little while longer. Thunder crashed loudly before it quieted down after a few moments.
Mike trudged along the muddy road towards the edge of the village. "I guess we'll act like the weather's totally normal, like everybody else is. At least there's no wind or lightning….but I still hope it lets up before we have to walk back to the lake."
Tanrial nodded, jumping in a small puddle in her path, “I’m not so much worried about the rain, more the lightning. Let’s pray if it does rain on the way back it’s not too heavy.”
"Yeah." Mike glanced over to the left. "Oh hey, that looks like something."
A small house sat slightly apart from the others. A warm glow came from the windows, and a small sign out front read: "Professional Maps and Diagrams, Inquire Within".
Mike stopped and turned towards the front door. "Looks like someone's home. Shall we?"
"Well, it's the only lead we have and it looks promising so…" She walked to the door, pushing it open slowly and the tinkle of a bell rang through the quiet space as they entered.
They were in a room that seemed to take up the entire ground floor of the house, but due to the clutter it still felt small. A fireplace in the corner dimly illuminated everything, and it was surprisingly warm. Every surface was piled with tools of the trade–paper mostly, but also pens, inks, paints, notebooks, rulers, and even materials for leather-working on one of the tables. A ladder in the corner must have led up to a loft with the house's kitchen and bedroom in it, because there was no room for either down here.
Sitting at a very large desk on their right, deeply engrossed in his work, was a fifty-something man with greying hair in a ponytail and pale, intelligent eyes. He was carefully inking something, and didn't look up as they entered.
"If you're looking for shelter from the rain," he said in a mild, slightly accented voice. "I believe it has just now stopped."
Mike frowned, then carefully opened the door and peeked outside. Strangely enough, the rain, which had been coming down strongly a moment before, was now completely gone. Mike glanced at the sky in confusion, then back at the older man. "Uh….are you Torres? The map-maker?"
The man smiled and turned his chair to face them. "That I am. Sorry for my lack of a proper greeting, I was focusing rather hard on my work. Zachary Torres, at your service. And you are?"
(I claps am claps so claps done claps with claps my claps school claps. Please kashoot me so I don’t have to deal with it anymore)
Tanrial smiled politely, stepping further into the somehow comforting space, “This is Mike and I’m Tanrial. We’re from outta town and in need of your services. Do you happen to have a map of the country we could buy?”
(Hugs Aww….but then I'd never get to hang out with you again! Maybe we can find a cannon to kashoot you into an alternate dimension where your school is better!)
"A map of the entire country? My goodness, you must be wanting to travel quite far." Torres got up and made his way around the table to a large cabinet against the far wall. "Do you have any specific requirements for this map? Would you like to know where all the old roads and cities are, or would you rather focus on the natural geography, or perhaps only be shown the parts of society that are still active nowadays? Of course the level of detail is variable as well, depending on your requirements…and of course your budget for such things."
(Boi, this school will always be crap in any dimension. Maybe I’ll just move countries altogether. Or I’ll go live in the Himalayan mountains…)
“The old roads would be helpful, as well as the cities and towns that are still thriving,” She shrugged, “As much detail as we could get pretty much. Then again we are on a budget so…”
(You can come over here any time! The schools still suck but uhhh….we have the Rocky Mountains, they'd be a great place to live! ^^; )
"Let me see…." Torres opened the cabinet and studied the rows of books inside, pulling out a couple and opening them on the table. "All of the larger maps come in book form to help keep them in good condition. These two have some of the greatest detail–this one focuses more on preserving the history of each area, while this one is more updated and functional. I suspect you'll be wanting the latter." He tapped a red-bound book with delicate gold lettering and a cord on the outside to keep it shut. "This one is twenty-five dollars, which, may I say, is far less than its actual worth…but I am a starving artist, and beggars can't be choosers. I do of course accept trades of equal value, or favors if you have the time. What do you think?"
Mike flipped open the book and examined the interior. Each page was covered with intricate, multicolored maps, all labeled with incredible neatness. There were roads, cities, waterways, mountains–everything that they could have possibly wanted to find, inscribed with a precision that was almost unbelievable. Mike shook his head.
"How do you make these?" he asked. "You can't have traveled the entire country and memorized the name of every town."
"I do have a store of old maps from days gone by," Torres admitted, "But I did wander a great deal in my youth, and made notes of everything. I wanted to be a surveyor, you know, but there's no demand these days." He sighed regretfully. "Well, never mind. Do you think it will suit your needs?"
(Fun! Maybe I will move)
Tanrial ran her hand over the cover of the book lightly, "I definitely think it suits what we were looking for. It's magnificent, by the way. The question is, we can afford it?" She looked to Mike and bit her lip.
(yay XDD)
Mike scratched his head and frowned. "Well, we definitely don't have twenty-five dollars. In fact, I think we should be saving all our cash for the market. So it's pretty much down to a trade." He glanced out the window. "Maybe we should have brought Bernon along, he's the one with all the good stuff." Straightening, he glanced back at Torres. "Well, what kind of trades are you thinking? Anything you especially need?"
"Hmmm…..I'm always looking for more art supplies, especially the ingredients for different colors of paint. I also collect old maps if you no longer need them. Oh! And as a matter of fact…If you can name a place you know well that I haven't mapped out yet, I'll give you a hefty discount. Any of those options work?"
Tanrial scratched at her head, "Well, we can't do art supplies. I cant, anyway. I can get you insight to the Eyvn territories but I won't have them until all our mess is cleaned up and that could take a while. I have potions I can trade but uh, that's the best I can do. Unless you've got something better, Mike."
Mike thought hard for a minute. "…I don't think so. I've traveled quite a few places, but I don't think any of them are all that obscure."
Torres stroked his chin. "I have not heard of these Evyn territories, strangely enough. Do you think you could sketch their approximate location for me, Miss Tanrial? That might be enough to arrange an expedition when I get some free time."
Tanrial nodded, running a hand through her hair, "I think I could do that. Do you have a pencil and some paper?"
"Of course." Torres replied, handing her a clean sheet of paper and a stick of fine charcoal. "Take your time. I admit I'm also a bit interested in those potions you mentioned…..what kind are they, exactly? Trustworthy potion-sellers are quite rare in this area."
Tanrial took them gently, finding a spare space to set them down on before crouched and started, "Well, I've got some night vision and like a truth thing. There's a little healing left but I was planning on buying some more ingredients for that while we were here."
Torres's gaze flickered with curiosity. "A truth potion? Now, that sounds valuable. May I see it?"
She nodded, placing the charcoal down and fishing through her bag for the bottle. She pulled out a small bottle filled with a golden, bubbly liquid and handed into gently to Torres, "You don't need much for it to start working, so it should last a while."
"Thank-you." Torres held the bottle in the light from the window admiringly. "This is a very high-quality potion. Did you make it yourself, Miss Tanrial?"
Tanrial beamed, "Sure did. I have loads more at home so if your ever in the area and want some then feel free to drop by."
Torres returned the smile cheerfully. "I will! You make a very kind offer."
"So, are you a magic-user, then?" Mike asked.
"Well, not really. It's been quite a while since I did any serious magic. But I do have little spells I use more often, such as a spell to clean up spilled ink and one to mend torn paper. That sort of thing." Torres took out an empty inkwell from a cupboard and carefully poured some of the truth potion into it. "I couldn't possibly use all this, and it's far too valuable to give away all at once. Here, you can have most of it back. I wouldn't want to steal from you."
"It wouldn't be stealing. I'm giving it to you. The map is worth it," She sighed a little, "At least take more then that. Half. Take half. It's not like I can't just make more if I want." She shrugged and turned back to the charcoal and the paper.
"Really? How lovely!" Torres looked pleased and added more of the potion to the inkwell. "Now you've definitely paid in full." Putting his share of the potion safely back in the cupboard, he added. "So where are you headed that you need such a good map, if I may? Are you explorers, perhaps, or do you have a more specific mission?"
"It's more of a specific mission," She muttered, concentrating on the drawing, "We're basically postmen at this point. We have to deliver something to someone on the coast."
"Ah, I see. What is it you're delivering?"
Mike glanced at him. "It's….kind of private business."
"Oh. My apologies, I don't mean to pry."
"You're fine. It's just too delicate to trust with a third party, that's all. Some breakable possessions."
Torres nodded. "Right. Sounds understandable. I hope you have good luck on your journey, whatever it might be for."
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