The Mysterious Merchant
Destiny City was a metropolis that never slept. During all hours of the day and night, the city was alive and bustling. Even miles away, the sounds of the city carried on the wind. Forests hugged the city and hills of all sizes peppered the land the further out it went.
Destiny City was as much of a tourist trap as any major city could be expected to be--only, there was something a little extra special about it.
Destiny City was full of magic. So much so that their visitors came from all across the state, the country, the world.
The galaxy.
Atop a hill a mile and a half out of the major city and with a perfect view of the towering skyscrapers, someone has set up shop. This year, he has a single table, covered in a dark purple table cloth with extravagant embroidery.
The table had an array of oddly shaped trinkets and baubles on display. A briefcase lay on the ground, just out of sight, and close to their visitor's chair.
A stranger to some, but not all, the merchant sat, fingers laced and elbows propped atop the table, and watched the city glimmer in the night.
As he always did, he arrived with the meteor shower.
Almadel had been good this year. He hadn't arrived with any trouble. He hadn't broken anything, hadn't lost anything.
He was just here for good, clean business, and all the food and good company he could manage.
For some reason, his eyes twinkled nearly as much as the stars in the sky.
He had no energy signature of his own, but then, he didn’t need one. He’d been to this planet and others, and it only took a little help to get his customers running. On the edge of the table, closest to him, a little box was open and a tiny star hovered a few inches above the open box. It had an unmistakable aura--and it was calling to anyone who cared to listen.
He had a barrier in place--a strange, watery bubble that spanned fifty feet in all directions. The strange shield reflects light and has the unique ability to make it appear as though there's nothing inside--and, more than that, if he doesn't want to be disturbed, he can adjust the barrier so anyone attempting to enter it will pass straight through to the other side, as if they walked in a straight line through empty space. If this extra defense is in place, no one can pass through the barrier, nor can any light or sound.
He's made it clear what he's in the market for this year. Outside of the bubble, located in several conspicuous places, are several matching signs. Painted in fancy, iridescent ink, elegantly scrawled, it reads:
It is easy to infer he's not asking for something from the grocery store, especially because a local tree in town has begun to grow strange pods this year (Prompt 17).
Destiny City was a metropolis that never slept. During all hours of the day and night, the city was alive and bustling. Even miles away, the sounds of the city carried on the wind. Forests hugged the city and hills of all sizes peppered the land the further out it went.
Destiny City was as much of a tourist trap as any major city could be expected to be--only, there was something a little extra special about it.
Destiny City was full of magic. So much so that their visitors came from all across the state, the country, the world.
The galaxy.
Atop a hill a mile and a half out of the major city and with a perfect view of the towering skyscrapers, someone has set up shop. This year, he has a single table, covered in a dark purple table cloth with extravagant embroidery.
The table had an array of oddly shaped trinkets and baubles on display. A briefcase lay on the ground, just out of sight, and close to their visitor's chair.
A stranger to some, but not all, the merchant sat, fingers laced and elbows propped atop the table, and watched the city glimmer in the night.
As he always did, he arrived with the meteor shower.
Almadel had been good this year. He hadn't arrived with any trouble. He hadn't broken anything, hadn't lost anything.
He was just here for good, clean business, and all the food and good company he could manage.
For some reason, his eyes twinkled nearly as much as the stars in the sky.
He had no energy signature of his own, but then, he didn’t need one. He’d been to this planet and others, and it only took a little help to get his customers running. On the edge of the table, closest to him, a little box was open and a tiny star hovered a few inches above the open box. It had an unmistakable aura--and it was calling to anyone who cared to listen.
He had a barrier in place--a strange, watery bubble that spanned fifty feet in all directions. The strange shield reflects light and has the unique ability to make it appear as though there's nothing inside--and, more than that, if he doesn't want to be disturbed, he can adjust the barrier so anyone attempting to enter it will pass straight through to the other side, as if they walked in a straight line through empty space. If this extra defense is in place, no one can pass through the barrier, nor can any light or sound.
He's made it clear what he's in the market for this year. Outside of the bubble, located in several conspicuous places, are several matching signs. Painted in fancy, iridescent ink, elegantly scrawled, it reads:
Quote:
Looking for:
Fresh fruit. Hard shelled, brown in color. Preferably large, and just ripening. Notable for their slight leakage near the stem. Ideally picked from the tree and not bruised from fall or nibbled by wildlife. Should not rattle when shaken. I will be picky. Will reward handsomely.
Fresh fruit. Hard shelled, brown in color. Preferably large, and just ripening. Notable for their slight leakage near the stem. Ideally picked from the tree and not bruised from fall or nibbled by wildlife. Should not rattle when shaken. I will be picky. Will reward handsomely.
It is easy to infer he's not asking for something from the grocery store, especially because a local tree in town has begun to grow strange pods this year (Prompt 17).
