The Tale of a Tailor - Journal Entry 3
[7-22-2011 / account heard and detailed by Adama's own hand]
His new business of repairing books, tailoring and more had flourished. Until that book. The pages of the book were hypnotiq, and they drew him in. He wanted to know more and yet each time he felt like he forgot more than he learned. The symbols on the pages seemed more and yet less familiar each time. He understood -- but he found the more he understood the less he could speak about it. It was learning about a secret that you couldn't share.
So it was not fair to say he forgot or that it seemed less familiar. It was that he was unable to speak, or to tell anyone what he was learning. There was a presence, an evil one in the pages of the book and though it whispered to him its secret, it also whispered to him to keep quiet and to tell no one what it had told him. A great darkness was coming and he could tell no one.
Still Adama had decided, if he could get his hands on the rest of the book. He could show them or at the very least gain some control over himself, some control over the power. Surely there was something in the book, some answer or some spell. There were spells for other things -- a spell for traveling between worlds. What was it the book had said, that the worlds were like shards split from each other, like mirrors buried in red.
He closed his eyes and let a sigh slip between his lips. He'd heard of someone in New Maginica who might know something. But he did not have enough left to travel so far in such short time. He'd grown somewhat behind, distracted by the pages of the book, absorbed inside of them.
It was then he had an idea, he knew someone, who knew someone, who knew others that might be able to help him aquire the cloth and dyes he needed to finish a wealthy clients suit. There would be enough money and more to get him to New Maginica. But still he did not have enough time and there no way to gain more.
Suddenly he had an idea! If he were able to aquire all the dyes rather quickly, then he might just have enough time. Yes, if he could only get them within the next few days. He would sew and sew, dye cloth all into the night, all into the next day without cease and without sleep. He could work without end and maybe, just maybe he would be able to finish.
He began to seek out help, but no one seemed willing. For three nights he stood around the bank in Britain, beggars would come by and ask for coins. But he had none. Merchants would come to make deposits, and the Guard's to drop off their weekly salaries. He stopped several people and inquired of travelers if they might help a man in need. That he could pay them soon, but not now.
Day after day he was ignored. But still he persevered, it was the only way. He needed help and a lot of it. Just by luck it seemed that on the fourth day, he happened across a man looking for work. So he took the last of his coins and asked the man to spread it all across the city that he was in dire need. For in his own mind, he was.
Perhaps some brave travelers might take it upon themselves to help a man in need. And by a twist of luck, in his otherwise ceaseless string of misfortunes -- several did. The word must have spread, because more people began to show up. Then more came and still after a while even more.
He told them his story the best he could. He related to them his newfound business of binding books, his sudden fortunes. How everything had been going well. Until he met a strange man who wanted an old book bound. He told them about the pages of the book, how he'd come upon them. Of the many times it had taken him to bind the book, failure after failure until finally it stuck. Of how he was finally rid of it. Only to find the pages left behind later.
Adama told the travelers of his sleepless nights and of the strange dreams that filled his mind. About his growing fascination with the pages. He told them all that he could, all that the darkness in the book's pages would allow him to say. And when he tried to warn them, all that had come out were stammers and mad ramblings. All he could do was ramble about wanting the book, about wanting to return the pages and so he stopped.
All he could do was request their help. And they agreed. (Later he heard word of what had happened, and he recorded it for posterity.)
So he opened the scroll he had gotten from his contact and read off, one at a time, the clues about where to find the men who had the dyes. The first described as two towns, both surrounding the mountains of Avarice, both with a moon within the center between them, and that one of the towns was named after a dangerous place, a dungeon of sorts. The other town, floating islands.
They found a Mage in the Cove, near a small shop selling fruit, vegetables and meat. He had given them a riddle, but would allow only one of the travelers to answer for them all. In the end they came together and chose. They chose a woman, to choose who would answer for them all, and she chose a man that only one other in the group had wanted to answer for them.
In the end he answered for them, correctly and they brought back the dyes to Adama.
In Vesper they found an Alchemist, a gambler by the name of Merrick. The man had apparently been lucky for weeks and so he challenged the travelers who'd come to collect Adama's dyes. He told them if they could beat him in a game of dice then he would give them what he was supposed to. But if they could not, then he would keep them for himself.
He chose three of them, and they played. The only rule was that someone had to win, but Merrick had smiled, saying that not a single one of them could beat him, could break his luck. In a deep dark damp cave he'd taken them as to not be interupted. So they played, the first one stepping up -- and losing. Merrick smiled, sure of himself.
Then the second, it was tense and the dice fell hard against the wet cavern floor. Another loss. So it had come down to the final game, a final throw of them dice. Merrick was indeed lucky and as the woman chosen to be the last came into the ring, he stood there smug and content. He offered to go first, and she let him.
Down his dice fell to the floor. He smiled and allowed her to go. So she picked up the fallen dice and readied herself, everything was riding on her. Who knows what she was thinking, or what she had on her mind but as the dice shook in the cup and spilled onto the floor, everyone stood in silence waiting. They rolled and rolled, until finally they stopped. A tie! The dice were even.
Merrick swore and called the woman a cheat, then most likely frustrated by not winning, he threw the dyes to the ground and told them all to leave.
Adama was surprised, and gladly received the second of the five colors of dyes he needed.
Then there were several more clues. Each time they returned with another set of dyes for him to finish his work.
There was Island with a lake in its center. He hadn't ever heard of Occllo but someone had. They had gone there and found a path leading to the dyer who had promised Adama a specific shade of red. But when they arrived, the dyer was intently working on trying to reproduce it. He was caught carrying a heavy bag of dye tubs and dyes toward his work area.
So the dyer, Inar, asked them to help him carry the tubs and that if they would help him reproduce the color, Adama could have it quickly. So they sat about working for quite a while until several of the traveler's managed the correct color. Upon which they promptly delivered it to Adama.
Then there was the old Merchant in Skara Brae, a forgetful old man who could not remember where the keys to his ship were. For the dyes were all inside the hold of his ship. It had been an amusing recountment of the story. As apparently the old man had tight rope walked his way across the ropes of the Skara Brae docks.
Luckily for the travelers gathered, the old Merchant remembered that a long time ago a mage had spelled his ship for him, and that if he could remember the magical password he could get back onto his ship and give them the dyes for Adama. So he described several places where he stashed away books, who's titles described his password.
They searched all over town, finding only one of them. The old man, apparently disgusted with the "youth of today" managed to remember where he hid them and led them on a wild chase across Skara Brae to the Inn, the Mage shop and finally to the Bank where he'd stored each of the books. He could be heard calling the travelers all sorts of names, insinuiating that they were more feeble than an old man.
Once the password was found and the dye tubs were recovered, there was a cheering for an encore. Apparently his tight rope routine had astonished a great many of them so much, that the old man performed it again, walking his way across the thin ropes of the Skara Brae docks, all held to a resounding round of cheering.
But it was not the end. No the last task took place at the heart of Trinsic at the healers. Apparently Adama's Mongbat friend had been robbed and injured. When the travelers arrived in Trinsic to find him, he was no where to be found. Moments later the strange looking, and dark green colored Mongbat stumbled up to them, pretending not to be seen. It was too bad for him the roads of Trinsic were not.
When they mentioned this, Iskur the mongbat was seen to shuffle off onto the grass, then heard to ask, "What about now?" The mongbat, who believed he was a mighty ninja was a strange fellow indeed.
Then they asked about the dyes, and Iskur the Ninja related the tale of being robbed of all his supplies, and also a Totem sacred to his village. It was a Totem of great power that kept his village safe from Dragons. The travelers agreed to fight the Highway Men and recover both his stolen Totem and Adama's final dyes.
They found the Highman Men camped outside of Trinsic between two rivers and battled fought them to the death. The dyes were recovered, but there was no sign of the Totem for Iskur's village. The mongbat seemed slightly lost upon hearing this. But the travelers vowed if they came upon it and the rest of the Highway Men they would recover it for him. So Iskur sent them off, telling them if they found it to give it to Adama for him, and then he crept off into the woods, continuing the search for the Highway Men on his own.
When the fifth and final dye was returned to him. Adama graciously thanked all of the people who had come together to help him, and told them that the only reward he had, was his vow to help them when they needed it most. And with his knowledge of the coming darkness, a knowledge of which he could not yet even speak of... he knew they may need everything he could find out.
So alone, he prepared the cloth and the dyes in their tubs. He slept very little for the next few days. And at the end of it all, he had earned enough to travel to New Maginica to meet a man who might have information about the man who'd given him the book to bind. Any lead, right now, was better than none -- at any cost.