The Necromancer

Prologue, Part 4

"Soo..." I said casually to the bookkeeper as I browsed the shelves, "I might be interested in some basic literature on magical artifacts, if you have anything just sitting around..." Play it cool, I reminded myself. Don't let anyone know you have the Ruby. "Or, you know, whatever."

He gave me the same judgmental sneer that he'd first had when I walked through his door with my dirty robes and distinct lack of a jingling coinpurse, which is certainly a requirement in a high end shop such as this one. Your average merchant doesn't normally stock ancient tomes on arcane lore and dark magical items, which means that the ones who do charge pretty steep prices. "As an educated gentleman such as yourself surely knows," he said in a tone dripping with sarcasm, "There are many, many different *types* of magical objects. You'll need to be just a tad more specific about what you're looking for."

"Oh, I'm just browsing," I was quick to assert. "Not here for anything in particular."

"Of course," he answered, turning back to whatever he was doing behind the counter.

"But I guess I'd say that I have a passing interest in, maybe, magical jewelry?"

He turned back and peeked at me over the rims of his glasses, which had slid down to the very tip of his bulbous nose. His expression was a mix of surprise, disbelief, and just a dash of greed. No one asks about magical jewelry unless they have some magical jewelry or are looking to buy some magical jewelry. And both of those groups were generally loaded with coin.

"You know," he told me, "I may just have exactly what you're looking for." He dashed off into the shop's cellar faster than I would have thought possible for a man of his age, and a man of his tremendous girth. He reappeared just a moment later lugging a dust-covered book bound in red leather and slammed it down on the counter, causing the entire structure to shudder. The book was at least a thousand musty yellowed pages thick.

"Now, are we looking for any information on any particular magical garment or accessory?"

"Well, as I said, I'm really just browsing..."

"Yes, yes," he waved a pudgy ring-laden hand at me, "I meant hypothetically."

"I'm more interested in the mechanics of the items in general, rather than one specific piece. Specifically information on... you know, activating whatever magical powers it has."

"Well," he said, opening the cover of the book, "that all depends on what the object is. Now, this volume here is absolutely the best possible resource. It has accounts of nearly every major magical artifact, as well as thoroughly researched notes on how each of them can be activated. Some of them require a spoken incantation, like this Shadowbinder's Ring." He pointed to a piece of jewelry depicted on the page that looked like it was carved out of pure darkness. "Others, on the other hand, are tuned to one particular individual and can only be activated by that person, like Hurmux's Helm." That page showed a battered bronze helmet that supposedly gave the bearer incredible skill with a sword. "Still others require an activation ritual, a blood sacrifice... really, there are innumerable activation methods." He leaned in close to me, "So why don't you tell me what artifact you're sitting on and we'll work out exactly what you need, eh?"

Easy, I told myself. "And what would this book cost, hypothetically?"

He gave a disapproving huff and closed the cover again. "Seven hundred and ninety gold pieces," he informed me. I tried not to let my jaw drop to the floor. "Or an equivalent bartered exchange."

"Ah, well." Even before coming in, I doubted that the three silvers in my pocket would be sufficient. "I'm afraid I can't afford that."

His sneer returned. "I see. Well I'll just put this back. Will you be *browsing* some more, or are you finished here?" The implication was clear: Get the hell out of my shop.

"No," I answered, putting on a disheartened expression. "I'm finished."

He disappeared back into the basement to return the heavy book as I slowly made my way toward the door. He was still downstairs when I pulled out the bag of bones containing Lirk's remains and dumped them all into a pile behind a heavy seven-volume set of *The History of the Mej Mahaig Empire*, close enough to the window where I could easily cast the summoning spell on the bones once the merchant had gone home for the night. Lirk wasn't exactly a genius but he could certainly unlock a door from the inside to let me in.

That book was going to be mine, one way or another.

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