The Price That's Paid ~The Reckoning~ Final Act Sc.3 VoP

Dorian Andrael suddenly dropped unannounced onto the bench across from Jupiter. The Wizard jumped a bit, but did his best to keep the surprise off his face. He waited, but the merchant didn't say anything.

"Is there something I can do for you, Master Purveyor?" Jupiter asked at last, the silence growing unbearable for him.

Dorian's frown deepened as he thought, and then he replied, "I don't know. Maybe..... er.... that is.... Ale. Yes, that's what I need. Ale."

Dorian flagged down one of the tavern wenches and ordered two mugs of their best, darkest ale. Jupiter opened his mouth, but the gypsy held up one hand, and shook his head, the small silver bells braided into his hair tinkling softly. So, they sat in silence until the serving girl brought Dorian his drinks. He paid her and tipped generously, then immediately drained one of the mugs in three large gulps. For a moment, it looked as if he meant to do the same to the second, but he thought better of it.

"I have something for you, Wizard," Dorian said suddenly,

Jupiter frowned when he didn't continue, and asked, "Well, what is it?"

"I can't tell you that," Dorian said, shaking his head again, "Not until you agree to pay the price."

"How can I agree to that," Jupiter said, frowning, "If I don't know what I'm purchasing?"

Dorian took a sip of his ale, and shrugged.

"Very well," Jupiter said, cautiously, "You've never wronged me in a deal before, Dorian, and I trust you more than I would most merchants. So tell me, what is the price I must pay?"

Dorian shook his head again, "I don't know. I was only told that you must agree to pay it."

Jupiter felt a cold knot of fear begin to grow in his gut. Something didn't feel right about this. Dorian had never been this cryptic before, and it was starting to worry him.

"May I see this.... thing.... whatever it is?" Jupiter asked, and Dorian nodded.

The merchant reached into his belt pouch and drew out a small velvet bag such a deep color of red it looked nearly black, and he slid it carefully across the table. Jupiter took the small bag and drew out a delicately blown glass vial with a wax sealed cork. The small, then vial held a clear, slightly blue-tinged liquid. The Wizard immediately felt power radiating from it through his fingertips and up his arm. His eyes widened as he looked up at Dorian.

"Will you pay the price?" Dorian asked, his voice heavy.

Jupiter nodded, "Yes, I will pay it. Is this what I think it is?"

Dorian nodded, "Tears. Shed by another, for another, in love and loss."

Jupiter slipped the vial quickly back into the small bag and wrapped them both in several layers of bandages from his pack. He hid the bundle near the bottom, where it wouldn't be likely to slip out or fall prey to the nimble fingers of the street thieves prowling through Skara Brae at this time of night. Even a reputable tavern like the Shattered Skull wasn't immune from their insidious trade.

"Where did you get this?" Jupiter asked, uncertain he cared to know the answer.

"Another Wizard," Dorian said, grimacing at the last word, "You know me, Jupiter. I am a wanderer...... A romani..... a gypsy through and through. My people, we are a superstitious bunch, and rightfully wary of all things magic. And I can tell you, that thing you just accepted scares me. There is a power there.... deep and dangerous.....unlike anything I've ever felt."

Dorian shuddered, and shook himself. He downed the rest of his ale in a large gulp, and ordered another for himself and one for the Wizard when the tavern wench passed by again. With a deep breath, the merchant seemed to shake himself free of his brooding thoughts.

With a wan smile, Dorian looked up at Jupiter and said, "Now, to discuss my fee...."

"Wait a minute," Jupiter said, "You didn't say anything about a fee."

Dorian feigned a hurt expression, "Come now, Wizard. I am Dorian Andrael! Grandmaster Merchant and spy, Gypsy troubadour, and the Purveyor of the Impossibly Purveyed. You, more than most, should know that I never do anything for free."

Jupiter chuckled at the gypsy trader as part of his infectious humor returned, "Very well, Master merchant, name your price."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to be hasty," Dorian said, grinning more broadly, "But for now, let us simply say that you owe me. The details can always be worked out later."

Jupiter sighed and nodded, "Very well," And he raised his mug of ale to Dorian, "To a bargain struck."

Dorian nodded, "Slainche!" He said, smiling.

The two drank their ales, and their conversation turned to brighter things, as it often did with the gypsy. Dorian had a laughter and a twinkle in his eye that was hard not to become lost in. For a time, the worries and the dangers that seemed to have been assaulting him from every direction were suddenly pushed back and held at bay. The Wizard could breathe easier and smile deeper than he had in what seemed like ages.

Still, the vial of tears in his pack hovered at the edge of his thoughts, and the Wizard wondered what path Fate had set his feet on now......and where it would lead him.

And he wondered what price would eventually have to be paid......

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The Price That's Paid
~~Siren's Call, Village of Paws~~
Dorian sipped his ale and frowned. He was not used to frowning, and he was beginning to think that he didn't like it. Ale, he was used to, and he liked. Frowning, on the other hand, was decidedly out of charadter.

That is, it was out of character. Before he started taking up with WIzards.

Dorian shook his head, and the tiny silver bells woven into his twin braids danced a bit to merry music.

Dorian didn't smile.

Suddenly, there was a thump from across the table, and Dorian lifted his head. He groaned when he saw the beautiful red haird vixxen seated across from him.

"What do you want?" Dorian asked, his voice sour.

"That's no way to greet a friend, love," Fate cooed, batting her eyelashes, "You don't want to try and give me a kiss this time?"

Dorian fought the urge to turn his head and spit, "The last time I dealt with you, I nearly got chewed in half by a....by a...." Dorian trailed off, and shook his head, "What is it this time, cursed woman?"

Fate mumbled a curse that was rough enough to make the Merchant's hair stand on end. He nodded in thoughtful appreciation.

"Listen, Spy," Fate growled, "All you have to do is remember a simple phrase. The price is paid. You'll know when to say it, trust me."

Dorian started to form a harsh reply when there was a sudden twist to the woman's face. It was almost like watching a reflection on the surface of a pond as a ripple passes by. Fate seemed to twist in on herself, and in a flash of light, she was gone.

Dorian frowned some more, and raised his eyes to look for a serving wench. Just then, the Wizard stepped through the door.



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Jupiter stepped into the Siren's Call, and shook the dust of the road off his cload and hat. He spotted Dorian, and went to take a seat across from the Purveyor.

Dorian started to speak, but Jupiter beat him to it.

"I need your help," Jupiter said, simply.

Dorian blinked. Of all the things he had expected the Wizard to say, that hadn't been high on the list. He searched for the right reply, and settled on a slightly startled, "Okay...."

Jupiter grinned, "I hadn't expected it to be so easy to get your agreement."

Dorian looked like he might say something, but finally sighed heavily, and shrugged, "What do you need?"

Jupter thought how best to put it. Finally, he nodded, and said, "I need your skills in . . .well . . . purveying."

Dorian stroked his beard and sirked smugly, "So, suddenly the mighty Wizard needs my help?" He mused, "Very. . . interesting."

Jupiter nodded, "Yes, I do, and you're going to give it," The Wizard dug around in a pouch and suddenly tossed a mug at Dorian, who caught it instinctively. Dorian spasmed hard, and his breath suddenly caught. For a moment, he stood utterly rigid with the skull mug clenched in his fiest. Then, with a desperate effort, he flung the mug away, and it clattered across the floor. Dorian was breathless, and his face was pale.

"What was that, Wizard," He growled after a moment.

"He drank out of it, or so I'm told," Jupiter replied, calmly, "It was only once, mind you. And that's the stain it left on that mug. Just how evil do you think that one is?"

Dorian shuddered, and nodded, "Okay, Wizard," He replied, "You have my attention. Who is it?"

"I need you to tell me," Jupiter replied, "I have his cards here, his personal deck. And all I know is a name, though I doubt it is his real one; Dorbraine of Yew."

Dorian's face twisted, "The tailor. I've heard of him. Not to be trusted, that one," Dorian wiped his hands on his shirt without seeming to realize it, "You say he drank out of that once? There's evil in him, alright."

Jupiter nodded, and pulled out a stack of cards. He slid the hand painted and decorated cards across the small table. Dorian looked down at them, then back at the Wizard, puzzled.

"I'm more of a dice man," Dorian said, "Though lately they haven't been rolling in my favor. A few nights ago, this woman interupted one of my games. Snatched the dice right out of the air, and poked me in the chest with a finger. She tells me to come here and wait for you. Well, I told her where she could go and what she could kiss on the way. Then I tossed the dice again, and they hit snake eyes. I haven't rolled anything else since."

"This lady," Jupiter asked, "Did she have green eyes and bright red hair?"

Dorian shook his head, "She was old, and her hair and her eyes were gray with tiny black flecks in them. Her hair was pulled back in a bun. After I rolled the losing roll, I looked back up and she was gone. I haven't seen her since."

Jupiter shrugged slightly, "Oh well. In any case, I don't want to play cards with you..... or dice, for that matter. These are Dorbraine's cards; his own deck that he had made and carried with him for years. Do you think you could find him if you used these in a . . . spell. . .?"

Dorian frowned suddenly, his eyes suspicious, "What do you mean, spell?"

Jupiter swallowed somewhat uncomfortably, "Well, I know you have certain....firends....who may know some of the more....traditional....arcane arts."

Dorian winked, "You mean Gypsy witchcraft. Well, we'll see, Wizard," Dorian said.

THe merchat closed his eyes and held one hand over the cards. His breathing slowed, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. FInally, after several long moments, he sighed heavily and relaxed.

"The bond is strong enough," Dorian said, "But you need all of the cards."

"What do you mean?" Jupiter growled, "I was told they were all here!"

Dorian shook his head, "Two are missing," He said, "But I have an idea where they might be...a gut feeling, you might say."

"Where?" Jupiter asked

"Get yourself an ale, Wizard," Dorian replied, shaking his head, "You're not gonna like this."





********************************** Next time: Dorian and Jupiter pick a Balron's pocket!*****************************

Dorian sat across from the man, and frowned.

It wasn't an expression he wore often, nor lightly.

"You are Zeddar?" Dorian asked again, and waited.

The man tilted his head, as if listening, then said, "Do you play with fire, gypsy?"

Dorian blinked, surprised. How had the man...Dorian shook his head, and blinked again.

"You are Zeddar?" He asked.

The man smiled, "I bet you don't. You see, these idiots running round in dungeons, they don't really know what they have. But you do. You know what fire can do.... what it can become...."

The man tried to take a drink, but his glass was empty.

"You are drunk," Dorian said, frowning deeper.

"So what?" The man growled, "I'm always drunk. I'm used to it."

"I operate a tavern," Dorian said, sitting forward, "I saw you there one day."

The man shrugged, "Like I said, I'm always drunk."

Dorian sighed heavily, "What I mean is, I remember seeing you. The owner was there, and he pointed you out. Said he knew you from long ago. He told me if there was ever trouble of a kind I couldn't handle, to come and find you."

The man snorted, "Then he clearly thought I was someone else. I bet he played with fire, too. You see, anyone can crush the right things together, scream the right words, and throw a fireball big enough to roast an Orc."

He took out two Black Pearls, and rolled them lightly in his hand, "But how many people do you know that can catch one?"

The man grinned somewhat wildly, and his eyes took on a faraway look. Slowly, carefully, he crushed one Black Pearl between his fingers and whispered, "Vas Flam."

A fireball appeared over his outstretched hand, and he immediately crushed the other Black Pearl in his fist, and whispered intensely, "Vvvaaaaaaasssssssssssssss," The word seemed to stretch through the air, and the Fireball swirled above the man's hand, slowed its flickering, and came to a complete stop.

Dorian blinked, captivated by the spectacle. His mouth had fallen open.

"I remember you," The man said, "Your tavern in the woods, by a Shrine. Seemed a nice place. I liked the name, Siren's Call. Reminds me of a place I used to know quite well. Why have you come for me?"

As he spoke, the fireball over his hand began to slowly spin first one way, then the other. Dorian had the feeling it was not accidental.

He took a deep, steadying breath, and placed a deck of cards on the table. The man's eyes flicked for a moment to the cards, and then back to Dorian's eyes. Now, it was his turn to frown.

"Where did you find those?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. The Fireball was still now, and it almost seemed to be regarding him as well as the man.

"A friend paid dearly for the bulk of them," Dorian said, "The remainder I lifted from a Balron, and nearly died doing it. That dear friend thought that perhaps I could use my gypsy magic to find the person they belonged to."

The man's eyes narrowed even further, and his frown deepened, "And?" He growled when Dorian didn't continue.

"There was a great darkness clinging to these cards. A shadow of evil and death deeper than any I've ever felt. And when I cast my gaze through it, through the cards themselves, they led me to you," Dorian replied frankly, "So I ask you again, you are Zeddar?"

The man heaved a heavy sigh, and with a fluorish, closed his fist. The Fireball winked out of existence without even a puff of smoke. Suddenly, the man looked very tired as he nodded his head, "Yes, I am Zeddar," He replied, "The cards are mine, and that's why they led you to me. The darkness you spoke of belongs to another, though I suppose I carry my own portion of that as well."

"How can that be?" Dorian asked, confused.

Zeddar leaned back, his eyes suddenly looked much clearer than Dorian had originally thought, and asked, "Have you heard of the tailor they call Dorbraine of Yew?"

.........