Complete - (Black Friday Event) Shopping List

Store 29

Gwyn had held high hopes of never once seeing any of the faces from the betting booth again, mostly to safeguard her gold. Gambling with an addicting pastime and not one she wanted to take up, and yet she had found herself at that damn booth with everyone else. And, surprise surprise, ended up losing money to them. Seeing Melvina reel out of the crowd and haul her in to speak had the archer immediately thanking whatever force had made inventories hidden away. She wasn't sure she put pickpocketing above the greedy woman.

To each thine own though.

Still, a pretty lady was asking for her help and Gwyn already had all the armor and weapon upgrades she needed at her level. There wasn't much more to improve upon and few lesser items she had any call for. It wouldn't be too great a waste of time combing through a shop to see if there was anything that tickled her fancy. "Ah, sure, sure," she waved the woman off and was shooed toward the bustling city. The bustling city she still felt immensely fucking awkward in considering she'd helped slaughter their king, but the bonus of not being a noble was that no one gave a shit about her face. Cool. Great.

If she was worried about anyone noticing her, she was wrong to do so. The first shop she managed to squeeze into had three men and another woman all arguing over a pair of massive "hellhound horns." The ranger pulled up the list and eyed a few of the odd shapes and squinted at one in particular. It was either horns, these or ones of another type, or it was a bizarre musical instrument. Maybe some kind of root cluster or a burl of some kind of mangrove-like wood? "Fuck it."

The patrons were getting beginning to edge on violent and Gwyn cleared her throat, hands on her hips, and stared down the small group. "Those are mine. Unless you lot think you've got arms enough to fight me for it?" It was painfully easy to put two of the men and the blacksmithing woman through a table in an arm wrestling match. She'd turned to the final man who went sheet white and raised both hands in a plea for mercy. The shopkeep grinned over the counter with his chin in his hands, "Those horns normally run nine hundred gold, but for that show and in the spirit of a good sale? Two hundred."

"A hundred and I don't break another table you'll have to pay to replace." It was worth the dirty look.... if it was even the right item?

 

Store 13

Come on, how could Stokbon Square became a hornet's nest all of the sudden? She was here couple of hours ago to do some shopping, and bam Black Friday happen. Sounds crazy that something like this also happened in a game like Terrasphere.

A familiar face stood out from the crowd. It was the woman from the betting booth some time ago, standing beside a wagon. She remembered watching people spending golds on betting on Sun and Moon Booths, never had been her interest though. But this time it looks like she needed some help. "What can I help?" Corvella approached.

After listening to Melvina's lengthy explanations, Corvella exhales deeply. Black Friday, of course. She had enough slipping through people just to buy goods, but it would be rude to refuse after she offered to help. Well, maybe she could try. After agreeing, the woman gave her a shopping list and pointed Corvella to the available stores. Of course, if she's looking for nice deals to resell, she's going for the mid-end shops.

Corvella walked around the area where she reached where mid-end shops line up on the streets. She can't even see the shops literally, it's like swimming in people. Reminded her of when she went into the pool into the summer and it looked like the water was replaced with people, good times. No time to be panicked, Corvella opened the shopping list Melvina gave her earlier. Several seconds were spent squinting and rotating the list, but nope, it wasn't clear what she wanted. A luxurious patterned leather bag? Some kind of antique weapon sheath? Seasoned chicken drumstick? Those things began to mix up in a single picture Melvina drew. God help me.

At least her heavy armors made up for it. Apparently everybody automatically moved away from heavy tin can that produces sound everytime it makes a move. It was not long before Corvella reached one of the shops. To catch the attention of the shopkeeper in the midst of people blabbering, she slammed a nearby table, which effects amplified due to her heavy gloves. The market suddenly calmed down, all eyes on her. Awkward, she opened the shopping list and showed it to the shopkeeper "Uh, can you give me this?"

The shopkeeper squints for ten seconds straight at the picture.

"Actually, just give me one of those leather bags. The one with the patterns, please."

"Ah, the flying gator-skin bags. You have good eyes, lady."

She made her way back into Melvina's wagon with people focusing their eyes on her, or specifically, the leather bag that she bought. At least she doesn't have to swim in the crowd of people anymore. Flying Gator? Really?

 

Store 22

Emerath stared hard at the list he had been given. He thought he might recognize some of the details, but between being new to the game, as well as having no real lay of the land in Stokbon, it basically amounted to guesswork. But there was some stuff that looked like machines. But looked like was a tough sell for anyone with... well, eyes. He sighed, before groaning and walking in a direction. It didn't matter what direction. In this mass of people, any direction worked. He just had to land in a store and hope for the best.

After a while, he landed in a clockwork shop. Now, this wasn't like your standard clockwork shop. No, this was a shop that specialized in the inner guts of the clock. Gears lined the walls, and the shopkeep was a wizened old man who seemed like he was quite content listening to the sounds of the gears turning, both in his head and out of it. Slowly, the man turned to Emerath, as he looked the red haired man up and down. "You want a clock for this time of year, you can scram. Most everyone took my good clocks. Cleaned me out. Much like I clean clocks. Both literally and figuratively." The shopkeep's eyebrows did a dance on his forehead, and Emerath couldn't help the pained expression on his face.

"Look, I just-" Emerath tried to say, but the shopkeep cut him off. "Look, I said I was out, that means I'm out. Leave. I was just about to close up. I'm done with customers today. All you people are insane today for some reason. More than usual." Emerath attempted to protest again, but the man was having none of it as he walked over and pushed Emerath towards the door. "No, listen!" Emerath tried to cry out, and as he craned his head and dug his heels into the wood paneling of the floor, he noticed something that the shopkeep had been hiding with his body. Presumably working on it. It as an ornate cuckoo clock, one that displayed what Emerath thought was King Astor fighting off some manner of beast when the hour rang. Which it did, just now.

"What about that clock?" Emerath quickly blurted out, as the shopkeep groaned and quit pushing the red haired man. "That ol' thing? I made that when Astor first liberated our kingdom. It's not quite true to events, but since when was any history book?" The old man gave a dry chuckle as he said, "I was hiding it. This isn't for sale. I've had this ol' beauty forever, and you aren't going to get any deals out of it. 5000 gold pieces for it." Emerath nearly choked on the air he was breathing at the mere mention of the value of the item. But the more Emerath looked at the piece, the more some of the squiggles on the list started to make sense. And the item was old, and had tenure on the shelves. Perhaps it was just what someone would be looking for?

"Didn't you just say it wasn't for sale? But you gave me a price," Emerath quipped, catching the shopkeep in a bit of a contradiction. The shopkeep scoffed and said, "A ridiculous one. You certainly can't afford it. You barely look like you can afford the bed you sleep in at night." Emerath groaned at the insult, but he was still new to the game. He couldn't argue semantics. He had to go about it a different way. He was a tinker, what would impress a clockmaker?

"What if I can make a functioning clock, right here and now, with some of the worst parts you have?" Emerath asked, sliding up to the counter with a smirk on his face. The man scoffed again, "You couldn't even begin to hold a candle to my brilliance. You're full of hot air, kid. Deal." The shopkeep held out a hand to shake, and Emerath shook on it. The shopkeep gave a laugh and said, "Alright kid, you fail this and you're cleaning my shop for the next month, got it? Man I'm going to be so glad to have someone to do that for me. I hate having to pay for employees." Emerath grumbled a bit at the terms, but it was about the sort of thing he had expected. So he waited for the man to return as he left to get the worst parts he had to offer.

And so he brought back an assortment of rusty, grimy, and seemingly broken parts, before telling Emerath, "I have brought you an assortment of parts that, if assembled correctly, will produce a working clock. I'm a crackpot, some say, but that doesn't mean I'm unfair." Emerath nodded and looked at the assortment. This was certainly going to be a challenge.

But, there was a part of Emerath's mind that was filled in as he looked at the parts, and a blueprint began to form in his mind. The tinkering training was really starting to pay off. Slowly, he started to piece together the clock in the base that the man had provided. The shopkeep would often come up with a, "Tsk tsk" at him, but Emerath could tell that he was getting nervous that Emerath was on the right track. He was trying to throw the red haired man off. Emerath was having none of it.

After about fifteen minutes of building, Emerath finally set the clock on the table. It was another cuckoo clock, and the pieces looked similar to the one that he had wanted in the first place. The shopkeep was dubious as he said, "Final answer, kid? You press the button to activate it, and if it doesn't work you lose. No second chances." Emerath wiped the sweat from his brow from the ordeal, but gave a nod. "Final answer," he said, as the shopkeep pushed the button to activate. There was a heavy grinding from the rusty pieces, but slowly the second hand started to move, ticking steadily. Emerath was about to give a hoot and a holler, but that was only one part of it. The cuckoo had to work too. The hour struck, and though slow, the rusty pieces moved along their track. Now Emerath celebrated as the man appeared genuinely impressed.

"Truth is kid, this is the original King Astor cuckoo clock that you rebuilt. Sadly, nobody was interested in it before. So I ended up taking it apart when it got too rusty, and made a new one. One with a bit more pizazz. It's all yours. Watching you do that reminded me why I make clocks in the first place." Emerath smiled, and walked over to the remake of the clock. He wasn't even sure if this was worth it, but hey. He had fun, and wasn't that the point of a game like this anyway?

As Emerath walked out the door, the old man called out to say, "Hey kid. You ever want to apprentice as some old man's clockmaking apprentice, you come back alright?" Emerath gave the man a nod and headed back to Melvina's cart, clock in hand.

 

Store 32

Velka stared blankly at the drawing. Despite using her knowledge of magical tools and investigation mode, she still had no idea what it depicted. Deciding to head to the fancy stores, hearing about the gambling ring they ran before, she thought it would be safe to guess that whatever she wanted, it was something expensive. A shop with incredibly fancy displays and an equally elaborate sign caught her attention and she decided to search there.

Walking into the store, aptly named Costmo, Velka instantly knew what she would get. The item in question was silver covered and gold engraved... half of an apricot. She didn't know why the item in question was covered in such precious metals but it vaguely resembled a shape drawn. Then again, so would an angry crab if you squinted enough. Honestly, it could have been anything at this point but Velka had always been a fan of testing her luck. The only problem with bringing the bacon apricot home? There was a rich looking lady who was carting it around, clearly intent on buying it.

She had a simple plan to deal with the problem, a dirty one, but a solution nonetheless. Some of the store shelves were lined with bowls of paint, with stone containers. She had geomancy and the lady was going to be walking past them soon. Since the store was quite quiet at the moment, she was sure that her act of assault wouldn't be noticed. Really, she could have gotten any of the other items and still be fine, but it would be in the spirit of the event to resort to non pleasant means of getting what you wanted. The lady probably had like, seven copies of that exact dress laying around. As the time to strike drew nearer, she realized that she could just target the stands themselves, to make it look more like an accident or a fault with the construction rather than a deliberate act of assault. Her objective completion was but a discreet magical push away...

 

Store 38

“Annoyed. If having to go through the trouble of dealing with people in the commercial district is already a pain in the buttocks, it appears I also have to deal with finicky nobles and upper class people…” The blonde magecrafter muttered to herself, her voice drowning in the pompous and noble streets filled with matching people. Although she was much more used to shopping at the mid-tier shops, the unusual boom in movement would make things hard to shop over there.

Not that it was any easier over here, what with these condescending looks she received, possibly because of her attire that did not match nobility standards. Indra’s lips let out a monotone sigh as she tried to find something similar to the odd-looking scribbles on a multitude of red, orange and black colors with pointy and flat protrusions. “Sarcastically amazed. What a depressingly beautiful piece of art…” Ignoring awkward stares, she pressed on amidst the pompous and rich people around her.

Eventually, Indra came upon something that was rather similar to the parchment she received from the fellow blonde girl. “Interested. Perhaps that thing matches with what she needs…” Indra tried to approach the mass of people gathered around the booth. “Apologetic. Excuse me, I…”

“Seventy gold pieces!” a masculine and much louder voice interrupted Indra.

“Anyone wants to bid higher!?” The merchant responsible for the bidding had a large, cocky grin on his lips.

“Eighty pieces!” Another voice among many rang out, increasing the value of the item even further.​

Noticing her monotone voice drown in the sea of excited voices bidding for the item, the blonde pouted in annoyance over the situation. “Annoyed. They can not hear me at all--” Someone bumped on her, prompting one of the many magecrafting reagents she carried on her to drop from one of her pockets. Luckily for her, she managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. Upon staring down at the manatite, the blonde had an idea.

Indra more often than not carried these reagents imbued with prepared spells. By simply breaking them, one could activate the spell casted beforehand without need for spellcasting words. Therefore, her plan was simple; make up some sort of commotion and win the bid by time-out. The blonde swiftly entered the mass of people and threw the magecrafting reagent on the ground slightly far from the booth.

Eventually, someone stepped on the mana crystal, unleashing a powerful, but harmless gust of wind. “Me, over here. One-hundred gold.” While the people bidding quickly spread out in fear, Indra eventually won the bet. With a large smile on her face she looked at the oddly looking rock. It had an overall black coloration, but the protrusions had an orange color as if the searing heat it once had never left the rocky content in the first place. A powerful reagent that came from another dimension, acquired in searing heat that few could live to tell the tale, extracted from powerful beasts that only an astramancer could summon upon our plane. It was acquired in the battle for our world thanks to the efforts of the immortal adventurers...

Hidden

A Magma Gorilla Fragment.

 

Store 25

Wew, so this was Stokbon. A huge sea of people going round and round. Elizabeth never quite enjoyed these kind of places, as with her disability she usually ended up either lost or being pushed around by not having legs. As Blake Elgis though, she was more than capable of swimming around this sea. And she was doing fairly well at her job, before she spotted someone calling for help. And a prize?! She was all in! She went up to this horned girl, who was supposedly named Endra, and listened to what she had to do. Find a item on the list and bring it back to her, huh? Easy! Let's check the list and- Ooooh boy, that was definetly not going to be easy. Especially if she had to rely on those drawings. "Okay, okay... Let me see if i can make something out of these..."

After some time trying to connect 2 and 2 with those drawings, she managed to make up a hat of some sorts... But with wings? Well, she would have to go and search for it. After more walking, she stumbled upon a store. Not many people thankfully, but the owner just smelled of stubborness. Okay Blake, you are going to do it. You can do it. And you should do it. Going into the store, she finds what she was looking for. A hat with eagle wings on each side. It looked stupid, but with further investigation using Investigation Mode, she was baffled at its stats. Lots of Agility on it, perfect for a fast character. It still was stupid.

She then went to the shop owner, asking for the price. And ouch, 300 gold? She did not have such money, so she asked for some sort of reduction on the price. Apparently he had a lot of pride in his strength, and was offering to lower the price if she could beat him in a match of arm-wrestling. You don't ask a player who solely focused on strength to do a might test. The punishment is getting humiliated by a cat girl. Fun stuff. After getting the price lowered and the item bought, she went back to Endra, hoping she got it right.

 

Store 27

"Hopefully I would not be recognized here. The wound that the war left might still be fresh in their minds." Bradwynne was thinking along that thought as he entered the marketplace of Stokbon, not anymore as the demonic ninja of the Astoreans. Although the katana was still sheathed on his waist, it would not be almost distinguished as he ordered a new koshirae for the sword in white colors, and Bradwynne now was not as much determined to use it on the humanoid creatures in this world, except when it was clearly needed. The scars that the war left on his psyche could not be shrugged away, but he clearly liked the storyline that went along with this game, and so although he contemplated on leaving the game once and for all, he decided to stay here. There were not much other VRMMOs existing right now.

As he walked towards the marketplace to buy some more materials to smuggle to Astorea in case of an impending drought caused by the war, he was attracted by the shout of an odd-looking person from his back. She was hinting for a prize if she would be helped on something, at least that was what she said. The heels of his platform boots instantly turned one hundred eighty degrees, and then he found himself at the front of this woman who looked like she had horns. Or maybe those brown things were really horns and not hair. This person being an interesting one herself, he intently listened on her predicament. As he listened, he immediately understood the woman. Black Friday was when a lot of shoppers converge in order to get cheap deals, and Bradwynne actually timed in on a Black Friday in order not to spend a lot on what he needed. And so he decided to help this lady here who seemed to have a huge shopping list in order to produce things in the cheapest way possible...

Bradwynne immediately regretted his decision to help the woman, as the drawings he received that described the things that the woman wanted him to search for were quite unintelligible. Sometimes he wondered about this drawing of a misshapen oval with some colorful lines swirling within the oval. He did not know if it was a glassy mineral, a puddle of liquid with a small oil slick, or maybe even a piece of colorful cloth. He just scratched his head with his left hand while holding on the papers with the drawings with his right hand, when he saw something in some apothecary named Hermes' Druggists. It was a small clay pot, and what was inside was quite a viscous material, that looks almost as if it was moving on its own. What's more, the jelly was quite glowing with the colors of a rainbow. He then looked again at the drawing, and then at the pot again. Seems like he found one of the things the woman was looking for. He was about to purchase the said jelly when a person of intimidating gaze and stature entered the shop, demanding the same jelly. What's more, the said person had three katanas sheathed on his waist. The apothecary, when he was being pressed by the person to purchase the jelly, pointed at Bradwynne and said that he was also after the jelly. The newcomer got enraged and challenged Bradwynne to a swordfight. Although Bradwynne as much as possible did not want to fight other people to the death, he thought that the jelly was a valuable thing to possess, and so he obliged, hoping that he could persuade this person not to waste his life. The other person immediately tried to draw the three swords, one sword he intended to grip with his teeth, when Bradwynne drew his sword with lightning-fast pace and then sheathed it again. The person wondered why Bradwynne immediately sheathed the sword, and then tried to charge at him, when suddenly he tumbled on the ground, face first. The apothecary, expecting a gruesome encounter, covered his eyes, but when he tried to peek to see what happened, he saw that the person's trousers fell on the ground, the reason why he tumbled. As the person was still lying down with his face planted on the ground, Bradwynne tried to poke him with a mild boot on his bare buttocks, when the person immediately woke up, and, trying to pull on his trousers, started to hobble away. And so, being the lone person who wanted to buy the jelly, the apothecary obliged to part with it for a small sum, having a good laugh from the incident. And so Bradwynne returned to the woman with the clay pot bearing a good ingredient for research, a megalomass slime as what the apothecary had dubbed it.

 

Store 40

Having visited Stokbon more than enough times to call officially call it an unofficial home Comet could venture in and out of the city with desirable ease. The mass amounts of people with their minds set and distracted hardly bothered or went noticed by the pink-haired woman. She'd been to a multitude of various types of shows in her lifetime with vicious women and girls using whatever it be available as a weapon - especially for exclusive items. Good deals were no bother to her wealthy family. Defeating others in the rush to get said good deals, however, wasn't something anyone in the Palfrey household would pass up. Winning - greed and envy conjuring up a deadly persistence - any sort of race gave a high level of satisfaction rarely achieved by a perfectionist of such feats. Thus when the smiling blonde with unique horns beckoned Comet, she followed along with the ordeal as if hypnotized.

Heavy boots stepped over feet, bony elbows relentlessly shoving, blue eyes scanning the surroundings; the pink-haired woman ignored complaints regarding her overbearing presence among the crowd. She methodically carved a path through the cluttered streets of Stokbon in search of a store that caught her attention. It took quite a while to find an appropriate match that fit her needs. The first few places had nothing to offer that was clearly - or even close to - her objective. The item, from what she could tell after attempting to depict what is was which proved to be a difficult task, seemed mysterious by nature as it resembled an 8-ball and had nothing else special to offer. She'd found the perfect location holding an elegant atmosphere. And even better one of the largest amount of player seen yet. Her lanky body made way between the small gaps available while long arms with surprising strength carelessly pushed others away. Comet planned not to give up yet desperately hoped the farthest store ended up being the right one. A determination demanded more from her that her legs forced themselves to give.

A glass class, face pressed against it, Comet shivered as she reveled in the success of finding the 8-ball. It was black and sleek: she could see her face in its reflection. A dark mist surrounded the ball as if holding its own magic protected or possibly contained by the glass separating her body and her "prize". Though only a moment lasted in this position. A cloaked user sent Comet a nasty look while standing before the enclosed item. The stranger brought out a wand and waved it around as if asserting a superiority over the pink-haired woman who sneered in disgust, already unimpressed by the obvious lack of decency. "Keep your grubby hands off my 8-ball. It's not a toy, little girl," she retorted before laughing like a robot, nose held high. "Judging by what you're wearing I bet you don't use money to get what you want... Utter filth." pulling her cloak down to reveal a rude smirk before turning to buy the discounted object, the mage hardly expected Comet to leap from behind only to emit a screech akin to a warrior's battle cry. Long disheveled locks and all she used what she'd learned from pageants to claw her way to victory with manicured nails. Hair pulling, face shoving, head-locks, etc.: cat-fights happen to be no stranger to the beauty queen who's backup to persuasive words happened to be clocking women in the jaw and briefly escaping the fines of being sued shortly afterwords.

After properly settling the understandable dispute Comet managed to leave the store with a discounted magic 8-ball, literally magic as she'd discovered by the mage's words upon submission, and a few temporary battle scars worth the price of Black Friday's chaos.

 

Store 14

Upon receiving the "list" of horrendously drawn pictures, Sean started to turn it in all sorts of directions to see if there was some sort of perfect angle to make out an item from. "No... Not that..." He muttered loudly, almost dropping the "list" a couple times. Upon giving up on rotating the "list" and just scanning it thoroughly, he decided that he had a decent idea of what to get. "Okay, I think I can get one of these items," he exclaimed out loud before rushing off to one of the nearby shops.

Upon entering one of the mid-end shops, he immediately noticed that there was barely any room to walk. "I can make this work," he muttered to himself as he started weaving his way through the ocean of people. "Excuse me... Oh, sorry... Gotta get through..." he apologized repeatedly as he maneuvered over to a certain area of the store. "Okay, according to this list..." he muttered out loud, "This should be one of the things they're looking for!" He exclaimed happily before buying a sheet of metal and beginning to escape from the store amidst the crowd.

As he finally got out of the store, Sean made a mad dash straight for Melvina. "Hey, I think I got something you were asking for!" he yelled as he handed over the same sheet of metal he had previously bought.

 

Store 35

Moony entered what may have been the first and only department store in Terrasphere. Unlike the rabble of the various other stores of this impromptu economic holiday, among the upper classes----here nobles and rich merchants---- who could buy anything they wished at any time, the ocassion was really more a time to demonstrate one's wits and brag about it later.

Hidden: What Happened

In true haute cour fashion, a well dressed clerk stepped forward to serve Moony. "Madam? How may I serve you?"

It was just like earth, Moony thought with a smile. This would be simple enough then. "I am upon the hunt for the item in this admittedly strange drawing. Tis a request from a younger acquaintance, you see. Might you be able to offer a maiden out of her wits some degree of succor with your own fine advice?" Moony badly feigned a coy distress. It was part of the correct proceedings as it were. The clerk smiled with a dapper bow. "But of course...hmmmm...ah I think I may know of just the thing! Please make your way to the box and I would appreciate any of your favors for any gallantry I might display in your honour..." A sparkling smile.

Moony tiled her head. "The Box....?"

A different employee, this one a serving maid stepped forward. "Right his way Madam."

"Ah...uhm....oh...very well then..." Suddenly Moony was quite a bit less in her groove. Maybe this wasn't like earth after all. Shooshed away, Moony looked around in a fluster until she was lead to a rather nice velveteen seat on the second floor. From her balcony, the interior of the store looked rather like a theater, only instead of a stage, it was more like an arena of isles of merchandise.

"...huh...?"

"May I get you anything Miss?"

"Oh...uhm...perhaps some tea."

"At once Mistress. Please enjoy the show."

"The...show....?"

Finding some opera binoculars, Moony leaned forward for a better view. She had no idea what she was supposed to be looking at only...

There was a trumpeted horn. Shortly after, the clerks, now in fancy renaissance-looking era'd armor strutted out and each gave a bow before their respective balconies. In the very same fashion, her familiar clerk gave a deeply impressionable bow up at her, it was the same glittering smile, only, he now looked somewhat like a Spanish armored matador on account of his massive plume and cape.

There was a massive roar of high-class applause. As the clerks took their corners, another horn blew, and the battle was away. To her extreme surprise, Moony watched as the men using their blunted lances and swords bowled one another over, fencing and jousting it was utter chaos.

"Your tea Miss."

"Oh...ah...thank you very much...." Looking between the maid and the battlefield, Moony's eyes were full of dumbfounded questions. The maid only mysteriously smiled and vanished behind the curtain once more. Looking back Moony saw her champion cornered by two others....

"D-D-Don't give upppppp!" Moony shouted while blushing from embarrassment. Renewed, her champion flourished his lance and sabere in some kind of limit break knocking the two others upon their butts. The other men sat there for awhile. Apparently the rules stipulated that those knocked off their feet had to stay down for a few minutes to let the other "shoppers" press the advantage of their victories.

That carried on for a few rounds of fifteen minutes each. At the end, each patron was allowed to meet with their champion to offer their favors...

"----Sir knight!"

"Madam? have I defended your honour?" His smile was tired but full of pride. He held up a bag, within was the requested item---A very rare plushie bear. With a flourish, however, the man held up a second, "And for you as well Madam, have a very merry early Winter's Day."

Moony bit her lip, she was seriously close to crying. Just who was this guy? He was too dapper to exist and far too smooth besides! Well maybe he didn't exist, he was an NPC, but Moony was seriously seriously sincerely touched!

Tentatively, she took the older man of perhaps forty's gauntleted hand. Touching others was still something of a challenge for her, but she wanted to show her proper thanks. With both hands she shook it up and down. Moony felt absolutely guilty. She was practically choking back stifled sobs.

"Know this! None were more gallant! You have earned your reward and then some...and I promise...one day I will return to request your services in full. After I destroy this damnable place. This I swear! A proper knight---all you proper knights---deserve your proper kingdom."

Moony turned to leave. She'd left the man a considerable tip, enough that she was now very much broke, but she didn't mind in the least. It was the least she could do.

 

Store 8

All Backfire heard was “reward” as Melvina pulled her in and shoved a drawing into her hand. She had understood that she was supposed to acquire whatever item, this was.

The hell is this?

Backfire studied the paper turning it in a circle to try and make sense of what she was looking at.

Well, whatever. I’ll just go to a cheap store and try and get something close enough to loot the reward. Those seem the least crowded anyway.

Backfire headed through a dark alley.

Jesus… god damn Deatheater row over here.

Striding confidently, Backfire headed into the first store she found. It was dimly lit, dust had accumulated on everything that wasn't handled regularly. There were either spiderwebs or cobwebs in every corner.

Well, this place is a real shit show.

Hidden: continued...

The clientele around Backfire wore only dark colors, most with cloaks. They seemed to be actively attempting to mind their own business. Another oddity was that the store was library quiet. Backfire surveyed the store while thinking, if there was an assassin’s superstore in this world, this was probably it.

“HEY! Y’ALL SELL POISON AND SHIT IN HERE? WHY IS EVERYONE SO QUIET?”

The whole store, startled, turned to stare. One patron, a man in dark clothes caught Backfire’s eyes. The man’s eyes went wide and he dashed to the door and left.

Now that’s more like it.

Backfire ran out the door after him. Using a Quick Boost, Backfire tackled the man and turned him over. The man squirmed.

“YOU… YOU AIN’T GOT NUTHIN’ ON ME! I’M JUST SHOPPING FOR.. EH… FOR PRESENTS… YEAH! THAT’S RIGHT, I’M SHOPPING FOR PRESENTS!”

Backfire dug into the man’s coat pocket and fished out a vial of slightly glowing green liquid.

“…And what’s this?”

Backfire held the vial over the man’s face while grinning.

“This some seasoning? Doesn’t look too tasty. You planning on basting a bird in this? Damn, I’ll tell you, I’m thankful I’m not in your family.”

Scared the man pleaded with Backfire.

“Wait… wait! What are you doing? You’re not going to feed that to me… are you?!

Backfire through the vial into her pocket.

“No, idiot. Why would I kill someone’s who’s going to be helping me.”

“Help you?”

“Yeah, but before that…”

Backfire casted fire mine on the man’s chest.

“There, what you got on you now is a bomb. It won’t detonate unless I make it. Now, you be a good guy and help me and you get to go home. If you don’t…”

Backfire made a popping noise with her mouth.

“Now then…”

Raising to her feet, Backfire pulled the man up with her then showed him the picture.

“What the hell is this?”

The man, scared, looked at the drawing. Looking up, he began to speak while fumbling his work.

“It’s a… ugh… cape? Or a box… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I don’t know… please don’t kill me!”

“Ughh… keep your pants on, let’s go back into the store and look around. Don’t forget though, you disappear and pop goes the weasel.

“Ye—yes… of course mistress.”

“Mistress? Huh, that’s not bad. Okay, let’s go.”

Backfire dragged the man back into the store.

“ALRIGHT, NOTHING TO SEE HER FOLKS JUST LOOKING FOR THIS… ACTUALLY, CAN SOMEONE WHO WORKS HERE HELP?”

A sale’s clerk approached. He was an Igor type, creepy and a bit too eager to serve. Sort of hunched over dragging a leg.

There’s no way in hell this guy doesn’t keep a spider as a pet…

“Ho—how may I help you, dear lady.”

“I’m looking for one of these.”

Backfire handed the paper to the odd and mildly gross salesman. The salesman looked over the paper. The looked up at Backfire with a grin.

“OoOoOoOhhHhH! Well… this is a surprise! Yes, we have.. heHeheh exactly what you’re looking for. Right this wayyy”

The salesman beckoned them to the checkout counter, or whatever it was called. This area of the store didn’t have a register so it wasn’t a check out register. Backfire wasn’t even sure if the term “check out” really applied? What the hell do you call the table where you pay someone when it’s a fantasy world? Check out counter would have to do.

As Backfire approached, the poisoner in tow started to whisper to her.

“Okay, you’ve gotten what you came for. Can you let me go?”

“Here’s a question. Am I holding the item in my hand? Do I even know what it is? I don’t think I do. You’re not going anywhere until I say so. Might as well get comfortable before I force feed you that vial you were carrying out of curiosity.”

The man shut up real quick-like.

“That’s better.”

The salesman spoke in a whisper.

“A moment here lady, I must retrieve the item from our…”

The salesman winked at her.

“…special wares.”

With a giggle the salesman went behind a curtain leading to a backroom. The store’s other patrons eyed Backfire and the poisoner warily.

Backfire whispered to the poisoner.

"What do they even sell here?”

“Cloaks, daggers, masks, and cleaning supplies.” The poisoner said quietly.

“Cleaning supplies?”

“…For murders”

“Ohhh… that makes sense.”

Backfire watched as a store patron put a large dagger, some small clothes, and what looked like a mop in their cart.

“Eeesh.”

The salesman returned with a black box.

“heHehe—here we are, madam.”

“What is it?”

“Why exactly the item pictured.”

The salesmen held up the picture and pointed with a wink.

“I believe you’ll find the item in perfect condition.”

The salesman started laughing, which turned into coughing. He spit something up on the floor, and turned back to Backfire with a smile. He was missing a lot of teeth.

“Okay… well how much do I owe you.”

The salesman got close so other’s wouldn’t over here..

Bad breath…

“The price is… negotiable.”

Backfire dug in her pocket and pulled out the vial.

The salesman took it in hand then, pulling out a monocle, eyed the vial. He grinned and let out another laugh-cough.

“Yes, yes I think this will do.”

The poisoner spoke up while still trying to limit the volume of his voice.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

Backfire turned to him.

“I could remedy that issue real quick if you like.”

She poked him in the chest where she had affixed the mine. The poisoner looked down, then quickly took a step back.

“That’s better.”

Backfire turned back to the salesman.

“It’s a deal then.”

Backfire left the store as the poisoner followed behind.

“Alright.. I helped you. Now let me go.”

She turned to face him.

“Fine… get out of here. But you’re mine now. HAH! NICE ONE! I know where to find you, and I know your face. Anytime I need something, I’m going to come looking for you… and if you try and run… POP! Take it easy, you shady piece of shit.”

With that Backfire headed back to Minerva. The woman was still in the same place trying to flag people down.

“Welp, here you go. This is what you needed.”

Backfire handed the ominous black box to Minerva. As she did, she thought she felt something slightly inside it.

“Now, WHERE’S MY REWARD! HAHA!”

 

Store 4

Having met Melvina by fluke on her way into town to get rid of some of her less than stellar loot, Lady Briar was swift to find herself irritated by the woman's rather excessive use of words- or, rather, lack thereof. She told what she was looking for, but with not enough description to really gather what she meant. Bloody hell, this bazaar is packed... What was it she needed again? I really should have listened harder. I better get paid good for this...

Wandering into one of the stores- as early as she could find one that gave her a whiff of interest- Briar found herself trying to cozy up with a man at the counter. She'd gotten past many scoundrels using her small stature and brilliant psychology (and by that, she meant making them hallucinate to the point they gave her more room to get there in the first place). Thanks to getting rid of the common rascals that tried to challenge her, she found it easy to get where she needed. With a groan, though, she found the store's wares far too plain. Why did anyone want to steal this stuff in the first place?

"I need, uh..." She looked at the image. "It would've been better if she just gave me a damn explanation. Okay, mister, what do you think this is?" She found him surprised she'd cursed, but was quickly able to ignore his dumbfounded face. Looking around, she found some sort of ore in the corner of her eye- the shape oddly similar. "Uh... I'll take some of that. Just give it here. And gimme a discount, since I got rid of your pests. I earned that much, didn't I? Not even sure it's what she wants anyway... But I want out of here fast. Don't be a wanker, hurry up."

 

Store 33

Alpha stared at the long list of items and the rows of shops around her. A long line of thrifty and expensive shoppes crowded with the average peasants and aristocrats alike. She checked out the list of names and, contemplating on the potential buys and sales of each of them, crossed them off her mental list.

Mabeline's Menagerie? A bit too quaint if you asked her, not to mention that the entire liquidation and blowout sale seemed a bit too sketchy. Especially since the front sign advertised a baby basilisk at half-off MSRP (the sample picture included seemed like a photoshopped picture of an anaconda with wings). There was even something called a Centaurtaur, which she'd rather not think about after seeing a very traumatizing depiction of the mythical creature. It was disturbing to say the least.

Alkaseltzer's Alchemy? The place reeked of the stench of death, presumably from the remains of its customers if the rumors were to go by. Not to mention the unidentifiable, decayed head that mysteriously popped up at seventy-five percent off was remarkably similar in facial structure to a browser who had stumbled in a short while ago.

Veigar's Villainous Supplies Inc.? There wasn't even anything really evil about the place other than the robes and wizard's caps that seemed to be outright ripoffs of the old Harry Potter franchise. There were even some bookmarks that she could've sworn was merchandise advertising the Slytherin house (Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor not included).

All in all, every single store she surveyed seemed terrible at best and cringy at worst. Even one of the higher-end stores, obviously a derivative from one of the major monopolies in the trash-bin industry, had nothing but single-use plastic bags that accompanied obscure plastic bag dispensers powered by some sort of 'advanced technological magic crystal'. Whatever that meant.

Alpha began to doubt she'd be able to find a suitable shop to find some items on Melvina's list until, finally, something caught her eye: a man twirling a piece of cardboard whilst wearing a frankly lovely unicorn hoodie. A hoodie which perfectly matched her own, albeit in a different color scheme. Her eyes twinkled and shined and she couldn't help but rush over.

Magical Mysteries. The moment she entered, she saw wonderful rows of items that seemed to come from the most imaginative, creative, and innovative mind. Unicorn hoodies. Packaged unicorn meat (without any artificial ingredients!). Unicorn fart candy. A completely majestic unicorn mount that was by no way fake. She was at home.

"Ahem," Alpha coughed, bringing one delectable can of unicorn meat to the counter. She slowly pocketed a few expensive pieces of unicorn horn fragments into her pocket (for Melvina's crafting reselling business). "I would like to purchase one can of Unicorn Meat please. Also, may you redirect me to a place where I could purchase a few bags of Grade A Unicorn Farts? It is a gift."

Hopefully, she could get something for Vermy and Rudolf before the day was out!

 

Store39

Wealth and splendor all about, and yet, in the corner of his eyes, he still caught an injured soldier, panhandling, a merchant trying to recover from losses, a group of protestors demanding Falderen pay in some way or shape for the damages incurred by the war. It made him bitter, just slightly, to see people living so vibrantly just a week or so after invading and being repelled from the borders of a nation. Bitter, but not bitter enough that he would actively despise these people.

After all, Cain Darlite was the Flagbearer of Miracles, not Grudges. Rolling his shoulders and strolling about easily, the midnight haired muse watched as the crowds began to thin out as he went higher up the road, where more opulent delicacies could be found. Beautifully sculpted statues of half naked beauties, magical elixirs that held real power, and even antiques with exorbitant prices and dozens of bidders. He wasn’t here for any of those though. After so many weeks spent on hardcore hunting missions or clearing out dungeons or slaying great demons, a fetch quest by a fluffy sheep girl was pretty relaxing in his own way. Couldn’t be as bad as hunting a hallucination, after all.

Unfolding the strange picture Melvina had drawn once more, the muse squinted at the abstract art before him. What exactly was this supposed to be anyways? Some sort of yellow swirly sculpture ringed by miniature…

“This supposed to be people?” Cain scratched his head, bemused and befuddled by the foreign picture. “Maybe some sort of ritual? Or…”

And that was when he caught it. A glimpse of gold and an unerring representation of just what he sought! Dark eyes widened in surprise as he spun on his heels, marching over to the grand marble-and-gold building that held all variety of fancy, abstract art. Bursting by the room, much to the distaste of the hoity toity patrons and their high browed servants, Cain marched right up to the glass display case and slapped a hand on top of it.

“I’ll ta-”

THUNK.

A slender, but strong hand, gloved in white lace, slapped over his, a blonde lady that looked to be some oil baron’s firstborn daughter looking right at him.

“Excuse me, good sir, but the great me shall be privy to this fine piece of art. It’ll be wasted on a prole adventurer such as you, anyways.” For someone as beautiful as herself, she definitely rubbed Cain off in an exceptionally negative light. Around her, her personal guards, in shining armor and each of them a hunk in their own right, snapped into attention around her.

Cain smiled. “Ah, that’s a problem, isn’t it, young miss. After all, I’ve been tasked to retrieve this item myself, and I do have the funds to purchase it. With all this said, I was the first to claim this marvelous structure, aft-”

“But it’s such a waste, to hand off fine art at a first come, first served basis,” she said, disdain clearly etched onto her features. “Only those with refined taste should be privy to such an artisan creation, after all. Anything else…well, that’d just be a waste.”

“You’re doubting my prowess?”


“Yes, good sir, I am.”

“Then I, Cain Darlite, Flagdancer of Miracles, Deva of the Divine Symphony, Songweaver and Dancemaster, challenge you to a DANCE OFF!”

“‘You’?” The flaxen haired noblesse flipped her hair dramatically. “I’ll have you know that I am Lady Sonathas Aversi, Prima Ballerina of the Spring Wind Amphitheatre, the White Rose of the Moonlight Stage! You’ll challenge me, to a dance off? Preposterous!”

“How bout you put your dance moves where your mouth is, Sona? Or are you all talk and no tap?” Cain flourished, a devilish smirk on his face. “Ladies first.”

All around, the patrons of the store cleared off, backing away to form a wide space on the marble floor, some of them annoyed, others looking forward to the performance. Maintaining eye contact all the while, the White Rose strode in a semi-circle around Cain, before finding herself in the center of the store. And then...

A miracle occurred on the impromptu stage, beauty and poise and grace mixing together perfectly as the ballerina, even in shoes unfit for the precision twirls and leaps of ballet, performed, her background guards suddenly busting out classical instruments from god knows where and playing. They perfectly matched her pace, and Cain could feel his own heart crushed by the oppressive, yet masterful dance. Not a single unsightly drop of sweat emerged, and her smile was one of pure joy, befitting of such a grand song. This wasn’t a performance that suited the deathly autumn and the upcoming winter. This was to remind people of the spring that would surely come afterwards, the refreshing wind and the promise of baby birds chirping as they broke out of their shells.

A final pirouette and pose ended her dance, a confident grin emerging as she glared straight at Cain. “Not too late to give up, Mr. Darlite. Before you embarrass yourself and all.”

“Your dance was truly more beautiful than your words, Lady Sonathas. But allow me to show you…a true performer’s art.”

There will be no flagpole waving today. No bombastic kicks, no inhumane footwork. This time…

In the center of the artisan’s shop, Cain closed his eyes, feeling his magical veins spark to life before he stifled them. No magic. Just pure…

“KANASHII KANASHII KANASHII KANASHIIIIII
URESHII URESHII URESHII URESHIIIIIII!”

Moving his body to the beat of the song that he sang, Cain lost his body into the music and swung his arms and legs around to the addictively catchy tune. Head banging, arms waving, legs kicking, the midnight haired muse took full advantage of his lanky figure and long hair, covering up as much space as he could while still devoting himself fully to the badness and madness of his dancing.

And slowly, as his shamelessly terrible dancing continued, he caught glimpses of other people getting into the tune. Memes were powerful, after all, especially ones that they never had to experience before. The other patrons began to sway, began to nod, began to straight up join in. Even the guards of the Prima Ballerina found themselves moving to the beat of his footstamping and sideways hopping, Cain laughing and having a blast all the while. As the stage shrunk, a beautiful marble platform reduced to a headbanging mosh pit, the midnight haired muse couldn’t help but laugh and sing louder, pulling on his entire repertoire of real life dance moves.

He lost himself in the dance, ultimately, and marched out of the store, bringing the entire crowd of filthy rich, price conscious patrons with him, and they marched off into the sunset, headbanging and dancing and partying all the while, the crowd of willing participants increasing until it became a marching band spearheaded by the master-class Muse.

Perhaps, the lesson to learn from this is that Black Friday wasn’t about the sales.

It was really about the crowds.

For another few hours, ‘kanashii’ and ‘ureshii’ echoed throughout the entire capital city, and once all that was done, that hoity-toity ballerina girl, slightly flustered by her defeat at this inconceivable interpretation of dancing, tossed the large statue in Cain’s face and stomped off, muttering something about idiot adventurers cramping up her style.

Still a win in his book.