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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 5311345" data-attributes="member: 4936">"Charms and hexes, mystic draughts and rare magic stock!" called the man at the rickety wooden pushcart. He was dressed in a ratty old robe that had probably once been rich violet velvet before time and wear had shaved it down to the stained off-lavender of the bare fabric. The ill-stitched hood of it covered the top half of the vendor's face, but the stubble on his chin was just a faint shadow of a real wizard's proud beard.He looked thoroughly disreputable. That was, in fact, wholly intentional. Cheapness had a particular look to it, and his clientele were the folks that knew better than to set foot in a reputable establishment."You sir!" he shouted abruptly, pointing at a foppish man passing by with an owl on his shoulder. "I smell the Art upon you, if you don't mind me saying so. Can I interest you in rare ingredients, sure to give your spells that extra ZAM! they might be missing?"The passerby smirked at him and continued to pass by.The potion peddler grinned a snaggletoothed grin and whirled to confront the other folk who crowded past. The Market Ward had changed several days ago, creating a sort of chokepoint between the Rust Dragon's Folly inn, and Ms Marple's Jams and Preserves...which had previously been right next door. Sigil gave, and she tooketh away, but either way life meant grabbing the chances that were put before you. He took pains to get to that spot early, and so far it had paid well.That's when a hand landed on his shoulder from behind, and he was reminded of another rule of living in Sigil. If at first you don't succeed...find bigger friends.He was unceremoniously whirled about to face what he thought was probably some kind of ogre, the ogre's lovely wife, and of course...Nettle, the gnome. He hated gnomes. They just creeped him out with those charming smiles and round cheeks and big, cute eyes full of malice and spite."Yer on my corner again," Nettle commented in his loathsome, squeaky voice. It was the kind of voice well suited only for singing gay forest dancing tunes amidst great frolicking. It was like being threatened by a six year old human. "We discussed this.""Nettle! My favorite customer!" he exclaimed with extremely plausible pleasure. "Why, if it wasn't for you, I'd have no business at all! How ARE you doing these days?"The gnome smoldered and said in his helium-pitched voice, "Not so good, frankly. You see, this two-copper knockoff managed to squirm in and steal my spot, then he undercut my prices...if I didn't know better, I'd say he was trying to put me out of business.""That's terrible!" the peddler lamented. "Oh, that I should live so long as to hear such a tale of woe!"Nettle's face petrified to granite as he lost interest in playing along, and reverted back to his primary interest of seeing his competition's supercilious smile peeled off his face, by inches at a time. "Bored now," he rasped. "Thule, punish him."A fist nearly as big as the peddler's head drew back and paused as muscles rippled and shook all around it. The thing...it wasn't an ogre, the peddler thought, but something with ties to Elemental Earth perhaps...emitted a loud shout and lashed that fist at his face hard enough that a white shockwave expanded in front of it.The peddler focused his will and held up a hand. The giant fist padded gently into it and stopped cold. "Hold that thought, sir. I will be right back!"As Nettle gaped in thunderstruck fury, the peddler bolted to his pushcart and grabbed his purse out of its concealed drawer. It'd been a good pitch, but the end of one thing was the beginning of another.An enraged roar reminded him of the caveat to that philosophy. It sometimes meant the beginning of death, which was pretty much the end of everything, from one person's point of view."Allow me to make this small donation towards the success of your new business venture!" he shouted, and yanked the pushcart sideways, interposing it between himself and the oncoming titan. It lasted all of one double-fisted hammerpunch of course, but by that time the peddler was already running...his flimsy lavender robe open and waving behind him like some kind of flag.He got as far as the gate out of the Market Ward before Nettle managed to get a clear shot at him, and cast a spell.The peddler felt his arms and legs seize up, and he tumbled to the ground, no longer able to move. Fortunately Nettle and his muscle were confident, so he managed to shake the spell off just before they reached him. Unfortunately, by then, there was nowhere to run. Just an alleyway that, when he darted down it, turned out to be a dead end.Determined to make a show of it to the end, he grabbed an old, stained blanket off the ground and held it up."Now, for my final trick..."Who knew? Maybe he could use it to cushion the beatdown he was about to receive. He let the blanket unfurl in front of him, momentarily concealing him from view.And then, without warning, the blanket fluttered to the cobbled ground of the alleyway. No one was behind it. He had vanished completely.</blockquote>

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