Fishwhacked: Reign of the Walrus Witch

Chapter 14

The market district was like a carnival, one that was oblivious to the destruction of a distant chunk of the same city. Colorful tents and stands lined the streets and mineralads formed what amounted to a landslide as they shuffled to and from different merchants. The subsequent riots hadn't yet spread to the bazaar so Ebb and her party only got the quizzical, judgemental looks from the mineralads that they were used to, rather than explosives thrown at them.

They wormed through the crowd to a tiny maroon tent. A wooden sign hanging above it read, in Mineraladish, Vegetablokish, and Drownvalish, "Madame Thaulma's Magick Artifact Tent." A few mineralads were inside browsing. The walls were lined with jewelry and tiny idols, the writing next to them claiming their abilities to help you sleep better, siphon the toxins from your soul, let you speak to your dead loved ones, and ensure your reproduction.

"A crappy little artifact stand?" Ebb asked, fingering a necklace with a fish on it that promised to allow her to walk on water so long as it was used at a certain level of solar activity that just so turned out to be when the temperature was below freezing.

"I've wrestled real artifacts out of the hands of mummies and golems and one time a mummified golem," Yawp said. "I can already tell that there is nothing enchanted about these-"

"I'm trying to run a business here," came an aged voice from the shadows. It was a figure in a crimson robe, wearing a couple of floppy cloth hats, sitting at a table and counting shards of metal with thin, bony fingers. Long strands of silver hair snaked out of the confines of the lowermost hat.

The potential mineralad customers put down the baubles they had been examining and left. The merchant sighed and then noticed Rocko. "Oh! Rocko! Good to see that it's a friend ruining my business by bringing along some loudmouth oaf rather than a stranger. Who are-" The merchant stopped mid-sentence and clutched her head in her hands. "Jods help us. Who are these people?" Thaulma dropped the tent flap and then twisted the deadbolt into place.

"How is that going to-" Ebb began. Thaulma's finger was suddenly over Ebb's mouth, shushing her.

"What a marvelous assortment of people you have brought to me," Thaulma said. She noticed Arbort. "And a vegetabloke, who is completely mundane, but still, seeing one not under the influence of Mushruin's rancid spores is a curiosity itself." She sat down at her table and slid aside a plank to reveal a crystal ball. It was coated with a white fuzz that emitted a crackling sound until Thaulma whacked it a few times, causing the image to change to that of the cosmos. Thaulma ran her fingers over the stars and nebulas and closed her eyes.

"They give Milliner hats to fortune tellers now?" Paistra asked.

"This stand is to keep me from going insane with boredom. I am no sideshow. I thought a breadmancer would be able to recognize a sister in sorcery. Shame your father never sent you off to become an Arcanerd. Imagine what your abilities would be like if you were taught by true masters."

Paistra's eyes narrowed just a bit. "Excuse me?"

Thaulma, mistakenly thinking Paistra was voicing her confusion over the vernacular, replied, "You're just an arcanist. A sorcerer with no formal training. But when an arcanist chooses the academic pursuit of sorcery, they became an Arcanerd."

"No, I meant-" Paistra began.

Thaulma held up her index finger and a purple flame ignited at its tip. The flame leapt off and flew around the tent, lighting every candle along the way. Arbort jumped when it flew past his face.

The flame returned to Thaulma's finger, the tent illuminated with an unnatural violet glow. Thaulma continued. "And a man so inundated with arcane radiation that I am astounded he is not dead."