Max entered the markets, smiling cheerfully as he held hands with Sophie. He looked for a stall serving hot food, particularly noodles or soup, or noodle soup. "What kind of food do you like, Sophie?" He inquired.

"I  really like sandwiches," said Sophilita. "We never had them back home, and they're really quite amazing. Lettuce and onion and beetroot and tomato and ham.. sure beats what we used to have."

Max noticed a soup stall nearby, its front sign proclaiming that they could have ANY TWO SOOPS 4 TWO CONCLAVE STONES!!!!!

"Does soup and sandwhiches sound good?" Max said. It sounded pretty good to him, but she was the girl and might have weird tastes. At least the soup wasn't very much.

"Sounds great!" cried Sophilita. "We don't have soup, either. We never ate much.. a few crackers, sometimes. Some wine. Hey, do you want to eat there?"

She pointed towards the sign.

Max nodded, and headed to the soup bar with her, where he got two bowls of the finest soup and some sandwiches. " Mmm. How good a witch are you? Could you turn me into a ferret if you wanted?"

"Well, I think -"

Sophia gasped.

A single red lightning bolt seemed to flash down, hitting Max square in the chest and throwing him to the floor.

The onlookers watched in awe.

Max got up.. but it was no longer Max.

It was the Fierce Deity.

Frank appeared and meandered about for a little while before entering into a small shop full of odds and ends. He greeted the shopkeeper warmly and browsed about for a bit, keeping an eye open for anything interesting. After a while he said to the shopkeep, "Hello good sir, I was having a bit of trouble with some machines back home and I was wondering if you would know where I could find anything that would help me shut them down or something." and smiled warmly at the man.

Fierce Deity stood. "Apologies for ruining your date, friend."

Fierce Deity merely ignored the onlookers, turning to Sophie. "I understand that the Divine who's body I am currently using liked you and was sort of on a date. His life was in danger, you see, and his mind has been shattered by Osiris-Ra. He should recover soon. To avoid conflict with him, I would like ask you to resume the meal at a later time. Do you agree? I'm not exactly supposed to be here, you see, and would like to leave ASAP." He said apologetically.

Max

"I - yes - certainly," stammered Sophie, her eyes widening as she saw the Fierce God collapse once more to the floor, clutching his head. The Evil Overlord had been vanquished, at least for a small while, and the Fierce God's place was no longer here..

Max woke up, curled upon the floor, shaking violently.

Frank

"You looking for weapons or.. something more esoteric?" asked the shop-keeper. "There's a magician down that way," he pointed, "Who deals in machines and their removal."

"Why thankyou good sir. Just so I know, what does this do?" and he held up whatever he was looking at

Max shuddered as his mind recollected itself, the bits and pieces moving back together and resuming control of his body. He stood unsteadily, and looked at Sophia. "What just happened?" Max asked Sophie.

Max

"I.. I really don't know," said Sophilita. "Look, Max, you're nice and all, but, um - I've really got to get home. Sorry."

Frank

"That," said the shop-keeper, staring at the dagger-shaped piece of plastic Frank held in his hand, "that is, uh, well, rather, it's a tool. A device. For the pleasure of, um, the lonely.. more distinguished Goddess. If you know what I mean. Yes."

Max's face fell into an expression of deep sorrow. "Okay. I'm sorry I bothered you today.. I'll go."

Max then opened a portal and left, a tear falling down his cheek. He didn't want her to see.

Everything was horrible. Belverstus was dead, the girls he had loved were dead, and now he'd ruined whatever potential their had been for a friend.

He wished he was dead, too.

Max

And Max was gone.

"Wait -" said Sophilita..

But he was gone.


Frank

(repeat)

"You looking for weapons or.. something more esoteric?" asked the shop-keeper. "There's a magician down that way," he pointed, "Who deals in machines and their removal."

Max appeared here, with the blade of Bale safe in his hammerspace. He had something to sell, and something to buy.

Msonus enters the marketplace now, having left the ruined, and currently restricted, Hall. The Mystic spreads his hands and eyes float out, looking for stores that would sell things he could use to create magical tools of his own, or, barring that, the tools themselves.

"Why thankyou good sir." said Frank. He bowed and left, moving slowly to the stall that the man had pointed out. When he arrived, he greeted the shopkeep and said, "I was wondering if you had anything that would aid in removal of machines?"

Anik went around looking for a vender who suppied non-magical means of breathing under water.

Frank

"Oh, depends," said the machine-killer. "I have all number of things. What are you looking at paying? Sentient machine, machine god, Systemarch..?"

Max

The Blade of Bale was gone when Max reached the Markets.

Msonus

Msonus finds himself at the Necronomnomnomnomicon, the finest procurer of magical tomes, artifacts and supplies in the Conclave. He finds that if he'd want to buy the magical tools it would cost him fifteen hundred Conclave Stones, as opposed to the two hundred and fifty of last week.

Anik

Anik could buy a simple diving suit for thirty Conclave Stones - more advanced, nanotechnological suits would cost him around two grand.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:24, Tue 27 Oct 2009.

Anik would buy the suit now, he would have to improve it later. After that he went price-shopping (not actually looking to buy) for good quality, masterwork swords, not enchanted, just masterwork. He also viewed shields and armor to see if he could get any inspiration from what was being sold here.

"Inflation, I'm afraid, I never dreamed of," Msonus says to himself, not knowing the meaning of the words he spoke. He turns to the store owner. "I suppose this is a result of that... incident."

"And being without the funds, and an employer, I find myself looking for work. Perhaps you know of something?"

Max sighed. He began to wander aimlessly through the markets, merely glancing at the wares without considering them. He had no money, and nothing interested him. He didn't really know what to do any more. Chaly was just an amoral pompous ass, not really evil. He was nothing compared to the might of Osiris-Ra. Chalybis had never killed any of his people.

Frank

(repeat)

"Oh, depends," said the machine-killer. "I have all number of things. What are you looking at paying? Sentient machine, machine god, Systemarch..?"

Max

At this point, it may be considered that Max might be even more evil then Chalybis.

If Pha-Hu had been more then an Associate to the Conclave, he'd have been thrown out of the Market - in chains.

Msonus

"Work," sighed the shopkeeper, thinking. "Hmmm. You are a magician, I can assume. Have you thought of signing up at the Tower of Babilu? Worth a Low Lordship these days, if you can complete the trial. Good money."

Anik

Anik paid sixty Conclave Stones for the diving suit. He found that five hundred Conclave Stones was the going rate for standard masterwork blades, with anywhere up to a thousand CS prices for body-armour and the like. He also noted that a man called Sarademus was selling his masterwork blades for up to five thousand Conclave Stones.. and very important, rich-looking beings were purchasing them. It seemed he was a true master of the forge.

"A fantastic idea. Thank you," Msonus says. With that, he bows and, talking to himself as usual, he leaves the shop.
 "How strange indeed the ways of the world of not-dreams. Inflation confuses, and yet paints the way to attainment of a different understanding. Perhaps this is the true purpose of currency, for the original I cannot fathom except in dreams."

He heads towards the Tower of Babilu now. [To the Towers thread!]

     Returning, Desafon finds himself able to finally look in the market for any sign of medicine that might be able to assist Crailek in the horrible desert-blasphemy. He stops at a market stall to ask, "Is there anything for those in a very dry terrain that might help with a fellow whom has lost his arm? I have a hundred conclave stones that I might see to."