1 Jul 1999. Aaron visits Abu Dhabi, seeking to get rid of an evil book.
(Aaron) (Abu Dhabi) (Necropolis)
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Welcome to Abu Dhabi, gleaming gem of the Khattan Emirate – nestled at the junction of two rivers, bathed by the cool winds from the nearby Dragonback mountains, the city's ivory towers and smoothly-domed mosques rise from the orchards and farms that surround it, irrigated by canals dug by sweating Savanite slaves. Here in this city, the Emir oversees the vast financial and material concerns of his empire with a kindly and wise paw – the rich spice routes make its bazaar a wealthy place to visit. And few travelers leave Abu Dhabi without partaking of its signature drink, xhocolatl, a rich and darkly sweet beverage…

Of course, it would have to be summertime. The sun couldn't be any brighter, and the air couldn't be any hotter. Worst of all, Abu Dhabi's status as a port city means that it is not quite as arid as it would be deep within the desert. Vendors line the streets, selling water at steep prices as often as fine silks or zolks or other merchandise.

A rather plainly dressed (by Abu Dhabi standards) Lapi tugs his straw sun-hat down a bit further, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the vendors or hawkers. Aaron never did care for crowds – especially when he doesn't know the way around very well.

Wedged between two buildings in such an awkward way that it looks as if the narrow store were simply constructed to fill an alleyway (and it might indeed have been), a curiosity shop, easily missed by the casual traveler, sports a sign that reads … well, in truth the sign above the shop is so worn as to be illegible. Still, the odd wares in the windows identify the shop as a curiosity shop nonetheless … and it is in the location indicated in the directions the Lapi managed to get from that crazy old nomad. If his information is trustworthy, he should find a number of hard-to-find components and curiosities here, overlooked by bargain-hunters who wouldn't know a genuine magical artifact if it struck them in the face.

Aaron makes his way to the door of the shop, and after carefully checking to make sure he isn't being followed (which involves looking suspiciously over his shoulder a lot) the rabbit knocks three times, pauses for a moment, then knocks twice more.

There's a long silence … with several suspicious-looking characters walking past, along the street. (But then, with so many of the locals bundling themselves up against the sandy dust-devils and covering their faces and everything else up with swaths of light cloth … it's kind of hard to not look suspicious to anyone who is inclined in that direction.)

At last, the door creaks open, and a haggard-looking weasel-like old cat peers out with his one good eye – the other scrunched up nearly closed.

"Ah, good day!" Aaron beams. "Are you open for business?"

The old cat's mouth widens into a hideous grin missing most of the requisite teeth. "Ah! Many thankings for your coming to Punja's humble store!" He steps back, making a rolling gesture with his paws as he beckons the Lapi into the poorly-lit store, its rickety shelves threatening to collapse with the weight of the junk piled upon it … in much the same way that the old cat's frame might collapse at any moment under the scant weight of his own form, by the looks of it.

Aaron steps inside, thankful for the shade at least. "Thank you, Punja," he says, giving a little bow. No stranger to the use of flattery, even the Lapi is a bit flummoxed by the extremes Abu Dhabians go to. "You are known far and wide as a true collector of rarities." At least, Aaron thinks he's heard this fellow referred to before, on one of his previous trips through the region.

Punja laughs in a way that is almost eerie. "Many thankings for such kind words! Now, how can Punja be helping young traveler from afar?"

The Lapi can't help but glance at every dark corner of the cramped shop. "It just so happens that I have a rare book which I would like to be rid of… should a suitable trade be offered. Surely, you must know many collectors of such exotic tomes, good Punja?"

Punja smiles again, showing no more teeth. "Oh! Many to Punja's humble store come, seeking antiquities and ancients! What having book to trade? And what sorts of curios does young Lapi wish for having by trade?"

There are various places to start peering more closely. There's no real organization at all to the store … not even so much as piling books in a jumble here, or lining up tableware there. It ranges from what must surely be genuine junk, to other things that might have hidden value.

Hoping for anything that comes in a set, however, is too much. One is lucky to find one of anything in decent condition, let alone two or more.

There are books, rolled up rugs, decanters and jars, old robes, walking canes, animal shells and occasionally a bone or two, as well as a few items of weapon or armor – more often purely decorative than not.

Aaron unshoulders his pack, and pulls the cover-flap back enough to expose the odd leather binding of The Sylvanian Heresy to the shopkeeper, all the while letting his eyes roam across the assorted and unsorted antiques. "Would you be able to find a buyer for this book, good sir?"

The shopkeeper cackles, his laughter somehow causing some chimes nearby to jangle cacophonously. "Oh! Many wishes for to find such a book as this! Many shekels for coming to Punja to sell this to right buyer! Punja will be giving you fine thing for trade, yes?"

The Lapi forces a smile in return while fighting the urge to raise his hackles… the black ones anyway… at the sound of Punja's laughter. "A fine thing, I'm certain. I don't suppose you have anything Pre-Empire or older?"

Punja's eyes sparkle. "Oh, having much of old things, old things as time itself!" He shuffles off, cackling to himself, and starts rummaging through a pile of junk, freely tossing knickknacks left and right in wild abandon. Hopefully nothing that's hitting the floor is of any great value…

Punja suddenly stops, and looks contemplative. "Oh! Many sorries for asking … but which Empire is it wanting for to be older than, Punja wonders?"

Aaron's black ear lops across his face. "W-which Empire? There are ones older than the Nagai Empire?" His little bunny mind spins at the prospect… a Secret History, hidden by the ages… or something like that.

Punja laughs loudly. "Oh! Older than Nagai Empire? But Punja is knowing Nagai to say that being older than time itself!" He winks, as if he and the Lapi are in on some cosmic joke. "But Punja's store is having many wonders. Even so older as that, yes?" He returns to digging through the pile of junk.

A human skull leers at Aaron from the floor. Whoops. No, it's not a real skull. Just a very creepy wax candle … though in considerably decent condition, given how candles would not fare so well in the heat here.

Taking a moment to regain some composure, Aaron says, "Well, one can only trust Nagai so far." The skull makes him think of the pale Rokuga that caused such a mess in his shop… and the Lapi decides not to stock such an item, should it be offered.

"Aha!" shrieks Punja, as he pulls a battered helmet from the mess. It does look genuinely old … though not necessarily so ancient as to be older than the Nagai Empire … unless, of course, the snakes haven't been around as long as they claim.

Aaron eyes the artifact which the ancient feline has selected. "What soldier wore that, I wonder."

The helmet looks vaguely reminiscent of those worn by the Knights Templar … but different. The face plate is cut into a shape that suggests the Star, and if it were worn by a Templar, an armored collar would probably continue the shape to suggest an Anchor beneath it. That part, however, is not included with this particular helmet – nor is the rest of the armor, of course. The helmet is quite scuffed. It has a few pockmarks in it – not dents – and the lack of rust suggests that it is not made of something so valuable as metal … though chitin is ruled out at a glance.

"It must be awfully heavy," Aaron comments. "Was it part of a statue or monument of some sort?"

Punja laughs. "Not so heavy so Punja cannot carry it!" He brings it over to Aaron. Punja would have to be pretty strong to carry something that big if made of the usual materials. Not that knowing just what the usual materials would be would fall entirely into Aaron's area of expertise. "Many ancient helmet. Worn by warrior from sky. Liking for having to trade for book?"

Aaron's jaw drops slightly. "You mean it's an Expedition Artifact?" he whispers.

Punja laughs. "Yes, for having to be in Punja's store, very rare! No older will you find, save for having pieces of crystal ruins! But having for finding those all over Sinai anyway, yes?"

"Ah… ha… yes," the Lapi chuckles, all the while trying to decide if the helmet might not be more dangerous to be caught with than the book. Then again… it's only a helmet… and some Nobles are rumored to have Artifacts without being arrested. In the end, greed (and nightmares about vampiric vixens) win out. "It sounds a fair trade to me, Punja. As only one of your high standing in the collector community could provide, I'm certain."

Punja makes a gummy smile again. "Ah! You are giving so to be kindness, good Lapi! Punja is ever so many happiness, to giving this to you!" He hands the helmet over to the Lapi. Oof! It's got a bit of weight to it after all! But not more than would be expected of a real helmet.

"Gehnoh?" asks Punja.

Aaron hands over the leather clad tome, "Gehnoh."

Punja makes that unnerving cackle again, as he carries the tome back to another table that might, by some stretch of the imagination, serve as some sort of work-table. Or maybe it's just another jumble of junk. "Many thankings! Having any other things to trade, young Lapi?"

"Or perhaps buying with shekels some nice things?" the old cat adds. "Many to likings, has Punja!"

Aaron pulls his gaze away from the helmet. "Oh, do you have anything that might interest a mage? I deal with quite a few of those, and ancient magical items are generally of great interest to them, even if they no longer work."

Punja laughs again. "Many havings once-magical items. But so little use, if working no more? But all the better for you, for having good bargain, then!" The cat starts rummaging around again, creating yet another mess.

The Lapi slips the helmet into his pack, to study in detail later. His uncle once told him, "Always have a good bribe handy when dealing with the Temple."

Punja opens up a trunk buried under a pile of rags and clothes. "Aha! Here is findings many wonders. Look look! See if you are finding to your liking!"

Aaron pinches closed his nose and leans over the open trunk.

Inside the trunk are several bits of torn cloth and broken glass that – even if they might have once been part of some magical item – could probably be safely categorized as truly worthless now. With a bit of care, though, one could pry further and find a few items of dubious worth…

One is a jar – still intact – holding what looks like a shriveled, blackened hand, floating in a greenish fluid. The jar itself looks fairly mundane. As for the hand, there's no telling for sure if it is anything other than a morbid curiosity that would probably never make it past Rephidim customs.

"Pickled appendages are plentiful," Aaron comments. "Is there anything special about this one?"

"Ah. Hand was having been attached to powerful sorcerer of Sylvania. Many havings strange items from Sylvania. Much magic in items there. More good than bad. But Punja is not fearing for just hand, yes?" The cat grins.

Aaron swallows dryly, and asks, "The rags… all of it… It belonged to the same sorcerer?"

Another item of possible curiosity would be an ugly-looking wand. It appears to have a bit of rust on it … and some time ago, that would mean that it was an item of value for the materials alone. Alas, with the influx of iron hitting the market (popular legend having the source of iron being none other than the Wanderer Abaddon), this is nothing spectacular. Just a black wand with an ugly five-pointed metal star on the tip.

Punja nods. "Yes. Though legend does not having the sorcerer put his own hand in jar!" The cat laughs for some unknown reason.

Aaron grins slightly himself. "So then these are trophies for the one who defeated him? Can you tell me any names?"

Punja shrugs. "Punja is not knowing much. So many hard to remember! " He looks contemplative.

Straightening back up, Aaron feigns disinterest. "Sylvanian relics aren't exactly welcome in Rephidim nowadays, I'm afraid."

Punja shrugs. "Ah, so sorry for having to take this to Rephidim, yes? Mayhaps Punja find you something from elsewhere havings, yes?"

Aaron nods, smiling. "Perhaps some things with a little less… ah… history?"

The cat contemplates again for a moment … then dives into another pile of junk, furthering the procession of entropy.

"You must have spent a long time collecting all of this," Aaron says. "I inherited most of my own collection from my crazy uncle."

The cat pulls out something – another book. He shuffles over with it, and presents it to Aaron.

The book has a strange … something or other drawn on the cover. It is a hardcover book, and by the apparent age, perhaps some forty or even fifty years old. It is evidently mass-produced, with the printing on the cover pressing in enough so that the lettering can be made out even though the ink has faded. However, it's in some language unknown to the Lapi … though many of the letters look very similar to Rephidim Standard. Perhaps some sort of code?

The image depicted on the cover at first glance might be mistaken for some variation on the Star and Anchor – a representation of some holy artifact at an odd angle. However, something about the amount of detail on it – however faded – seems to suggest something very large. In a way, the artifact (if it can be called that) appears to be flying like a Creen, the crossbars serving as artificial wings.

Aaron finally asks, after much staring and squinting at the book, "Do you know the language this is written in?"

"No, for sorry to young Lapi," says the cat. He then holds up a jar. "But many happy to be including jar of magic powder! It is green, but if young Lapi is putting in water, it turnings blue!" He makes that wide, gap-filled smile again.

The apothecary's eyes go wide for a moment, and he almost laughs before covering it with a cough. "Well, it will certainly make an interesting conversation piece. How much for the book?"

"Only for having fifty shekels, to trade for fine book!" proclaims the Khatta. "And magic powder for nothing extra!"

Aaron hmms, studying the books cover some more. Haggling was never his strong suit… as any of his female customers could attest to. "How about… forty? I'm sure you'll be able to sell the sorcerer's hand to whomever buys that book I traded you."

"Ah! You wound poor Punja, after having give you many pleasing helmet for book! But … " The Khatta shrugs. "Punja is pleased to giving book to such nice young Lapi for forty shekels. Gehnoh?"

Aaron nods, and agrees, "Gehnoh!"

Punja smiles wide, holding out his gnarled paw for the payment.

Aaron turns slightly to draw his coin-pouch from a hidden pocket, and counts out the coins. "Here you are, good sir. Forty shekels."

Punja quickly puts away the coins, sticking them somewhere underneath a table. "Many pleasing to do business!"

The Lapi bows again, and makes his way towards the exit, pleased that he at least got rid of that disturbing book.

The chimes jangle as the Lapi steps out of the darkness of the shop, and there's a bit of disorientation as the sunlight overwhelms his eyes … and the heat assaults his frame anew.

Armed with his newly acquired junk and a lightness about the shoulders now that the evil book is gone, Aaron steps lightly and happily into the street. "Finally, I know I'll get a good night's sleep… "

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GMed by Greywolf

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