#dreaming

Seeking out Madame Sly, Dagmar and Symon pry about

He looks in the shadowed corners, checking for shabbier booths, or ones that are less flashy and attention grabbing. The kind that tend to be there for people who know to look, and not to catch the eye of the common rabble.

"A seed of a halloween tree... plant it in your neighbor's yard, steal their years"

nother voice speaks out "Ear bugs from Ceti Alpha five... "

He is intrigued by both of those options, but keeps seeking.

"No Khan worms, dude."

"Purchasing mothers, please sell me your mothers. Never deal with their nagging again, they'll be giving good homes." One fellow says from a stall marked 'Blind Eddy's MotherLode'

"Hmph." Disapproval.

"I wonder if Mrs. McGillicudy has kids. Do they have to be YOUR mother?" He whispers thoughtfully to Dagmar.

"Oh..."

"Oh, she can't have kids, she's too spiteful. Any baby'd just pickle up."

"Plus that weould require a guy to keep her company for any length of time." He snickers.

"Yeah, so no way."

"Biological mothers, Step Mothers, Adoptive mo..." They move on past Blind Eddy

"The Great Sword 'Tarnish'' , it will make a great knight of you... and a great wardrobe of black, red and spikes come with it!" A voice calls out

"You're already a good knight, any better and your head will be too fat to fit into a helmet." Is Symon's amused whisper.

Snerk.

"Now, if Flyswatter did magic, I mean, I wouldn't object..."

"Oh ,a champion of light" The figure puts the great sword away "Your weapon, she sleeps?" he looks a lot like a D&D Dwarf

Symon trails over to look at what else is on his counter as Dagmar speaks to him about the mighty sleepy halberd...

She lags a little, eyeing the dwarf.

"Not for you the Evil Knight I am thinking" the Dwarf says "No, you have your preference. Good good. That is fine. " The dwarf says "I can help waken Flyswatter for a price"

"...Waken?" She listens, boon up.

And Symon notices a collection of various weapons. the Great Sword puit away seems to whisper that it can grant power, make a warrior even of him, feared, brutal...

But it's not his style. And there's a dagger that seems more his style. It's not black or silver exactly so much as it just drinks up excess light to maintain a dull gray

"Oh yes," A nod from the Dwarf smith "You think all blades have their voices out loud? Not all. You whisper and they maybe talk to you if you know the how. I can make your halberd waken, find voice. Maybe more power"

And he is speaking the truth

"Or maybe it just drowns me in small talk, yeah?"

"Ehh maybe, you know, the Dreaming, is fickle. " A shrug "I have swords that sing. Spears that howl... oh, whip that plays that Devo song"

"Heh."

"And swords that drown own other's thoughts with noise?" He asks, wryly. Still a little miffed about Nadeen's sword, even gone.

"Oh that one, last I hear belongs to a varich girl"

"Your news is dated." He looks amused.

"Oh? Mmm this is good then.. what are you wanting for story? Whetstone? Not worth whole weapon to trade"

"We're looking for Madame Sly, actually..."

Oh, Gwydion Troll blunt right there.

He looks interested, but then sighs a bit as Dagmar interrupts.

"Oh?" Interest "how much iS THat knowledge worth to you I am wondering?"

A glance to Dagmar. "Worth knowing where that sword went? A location for a location?"

"Mm. Maybe? I dunno..."

"Not sure it's meant to be shared around."

"Fair enough, we trade location for location..." The Dwarf says "if Troll lady allows"

Grunt. "Your funeral, you go after it."

"That bad eh? Mmm I stil lwanting to know"

"Could it really hurt?" He wheedles. "If someone is after the sword, it's the new owner's problem."

Grunt.

"I am sensing quandry?"

"Okay, so we tell you who currently owns Whispermourn, and you tell us how to get to Madame Sly. No bullshitting."

He is thinking. "Or.. I know of a newer hold where they have smiths that can forge wondrous things. It's such a new place that even you may not know of it."

"Maybe they could make a sword that would make your great warrior blade look like a toothpick."