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It was Thursday night, and just like every week, Danny Hebert was hosting a social event for his friends.
"... Okay, the merchant raises her brows at your attempt to seduce her and says 'I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not interested in people who look like a shaved bear,'" he said, struggling to hide his amusement.
Across the table a player, a friend from the union, chuckled, took the botched roll on the chin.
"Worth a try I suppose!"
Thursday night D&D was always a treat... just a few hours of the week in which he could kick it back with the boys. His wife, Annette, was downstairs reading, their daughter was asleep, and the squad was an hour and tow beers into the game and preparing to fight a boss soon.
Truly, life was good---
Behind him, the door creaked open.
He supposed it was Annette come to sya hi. She was good like that, fine with him having an evening a week to play RPG's with the boys. In return, she had girls nights on Tuesdays with Zoe Barnes and a few friends.
But when he glanced back, it was not to see his wife, but instead the small form of his daughter padding her way into the room. Clad in her pink pyjamas patterned with yellow ducklings, she looked curiously around the room, holding a stuffed rabbit to her chest.
Normally, she wasn't allowed up at this time, as Annette had strict bedtime rules.
"What are you doing up, pumpkin?" he asked, leaning over to glance down at her as the others at the table fell silent at the unexpected visitor.
"I can't sleep," she replied, extending her arms upwards in the universally recognised sign for uppies. Daniel smiled, and whilst he really should excuse himself from the table and put her back to bed...
He lifted daughter and settled her in his lap, an arm around her stomach to hold her in place.
"Alright guys, no bad words," he warned with a stern glance around the table.
Nods of agreement at that.
"Hey Taylor, how are you doing?" Kurt asked, leaning over the table a bit.
"M'tired."
"You should probably go to sleep, then."
"No," she said, glowering back defiantly.
Daniel gave Taylor a little bounce on his knee.
What was the harm in letting her stay up for a little bit to tire her out? Taylor could be a stubborn girl when she wanted to be, and it was probably better to let her doze off in his arms so that there would be less complaining when he put her back to bed.
"If you're nice and quiet you can stay up with me, okay? Just don't tell mom," he offered.
She hummed, and the session continued... for precisely ten minutes.
In the middle of negotiations between players and the shopkeeper they were trying haggle with, Taylor spoke up again.
"Daddy, why won't the man give them the sword?"
"Because it's too expensive for them, unless they can help him with a few problems he is having with bad people."
"But they need it to beat the bad guy?"
"Yes honey."
"So the man should give them the sword."
"Unfortunately, he needs help and money, poppet."
The practicalities of fantasy economics caused Taylor to frown, and for a moment he was confident that he had convinced her, until she spoke up again.
"But he can't make money if the bad guy wins?"
His daughter was determined to throw off the balance of the game, and his friends were evidently cottoning onto this fact.
"Yeah, I think the shopkeeper should give us the demon-killing sword for now, don't you agree, Taylor?" Kurt asked, leaning forward a little with a grin. "Here, I'll pay you cookie if you can convince the mean shopkeeper to give us one."
He offered Taylor said cookie, and she grabbed it before Daniel could stop her. Taylor had swift little hands when it was for treats and began munching away on the cookie, then looked up at him.
"Daddy, they need the sword."
"I am not sure if they can afford it---"
"But they need it!" to punctuate her statement she kicked her legs, using the same grouchy tone she would use when she declared that she needed another helping of ice-cream.
Across the table, his players all nodded with grave seriousness.
"Okay, they can have a demon-bane short sword for free," Daniel caved, and cheers accompanied the statement.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Taylor."
Danny was going to add another manticore to the next fight out of spite for them manipulating him through his weak point. But he'd let them have this little celebration for now.
"Alright, come on Taylor, it's time for you to go sleep, before your mom realises you've snuck out again."
"M'not tired..."
Despite this statement, she barely even wiggled in complaint as Daniel stood, placing her on his hip and departing.
'Taylor the Merchant' would go on to become a beloved recurring NPC character who would appear seemingly at random in the parties adventure. That those random appearances occurred whenever Taylor was too stubborn to sleep was another matter, as did the fact that meetings with said merchant would become the bane of Daniel Hebert's attempts to balance the game.
Still, she was certainly an adorable NPC.
A good few years later
The night was dark.
It was probably full of terrors as well, but fortunately the PRT kept the Wards on safer patrol routes in the city, so this was as much just stretching their legs and an exercise in publicity more than anything else.
"Reckon anything we'll run into anything tonight?"
To that, Carlos shrugged.
"I doubt it. At best a few drunk people thinking we are going to a party, had that happen a few times. Once I started levitating and they lost their minds."
Gallant chuckled at that.
A flash of colour caught his eye as they passed an alleyway.
He looked in its direction and jolted.
In the shadows was a figure garbed from head to toe in an outfit that looked to have been stitched together from multiple other pieces of clothing and then tie-dyed to form the most garish robe he had seen in his life. Dozens of small, vibrantly coloured bottles hung from it, and on their back was a frankly enormous rucksack that looked as if it had seen better days, but been creatively repainted to spruce it up. A cheap costume mask hid her face, bright white and gilded with gold glitter and fake filigree.
The sheer visual flashbang the figure created was so striking that he actually had to pause in place for a moment to take it in.
In his moment of confusion, the figure took a step forward and called out;
"Greetings, Wards! Won't you step up and buy something from my wares?"
Their cheery voice was that of a young woman, if perhaps a little distorted.
They extended a hand, as if offering something forward in the slightly theatrical display.
"Buy something?" Carlos asked.
Beside him Gallant took watch.
Whether the individual was somebody playing a game or an actual cape, protocol was one of the same in this.
"Yup! I mean, indeed... I am a merchant of many mysterious and magical wares, and I offer them to worthy adventurers and heroes I find on my travels."
"Are you a Parahuman, miss?"
A pause.
"I am a merchant who can offer mysterious and magical wares."
So either somebody on drugs or deeply into the bit, as it were. Well, every generation of Capes apparently produced a few people a bit too into playing pretend...
"Well, what do you have for sale?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even and open. There was no need to piss off a friendly enough Parahuman, no matter their dress sense.
"I'm glad you asked!" the merchant said, removing their backpack and slamming it butt first into the ground, and it promptly detonated in a cloud of pink dust and glitter---
The entire alleyway warped.
In moments, the bare brick walls had shelves on which sat all sorts of objects, and the strange Parahuman was stood behind a wooden counter that had various knick-knacks and objects one might find in an antique sale. Most of them pretty old and tarnished.
Behind him, he could just about hear Gallant murmuring; "The fuck?"
'The fuck' indeed.
Carlos took a moment to consider, and then took a tentative step forward into this impromptu display.
Many of the shelves were empty... there was a selection of bottles on one of them, filled with brightly coloured liquid that more resembled something from a hideously sugary energy drink than anything he would normally enjoy. They were also faintly glowing.
"Aha! I see you like the look of my potions! That one is a Potion of Wound Healing! Drink it down and any injuries and aches will disappear! It can't fix bones or regrow limbs, but it'll fix flesh wounds right up!"
Carlos considered the faintly glowing red liquid inside the slightly dented plastic bottle.
"... Is this a coke bottle?"
A momentary pause.
"... Listen, it's not easy to get empty glass bottles for potions, okay? Sometimes I have to adapt and use empty soft drink bottles," the merchant muttered, voice just a little small. A part of him felt for her at that; it couldn't be easy to be a new Tinker trying to scavenge materials together. Indeed, he swept his eyes over the rest of the display.
"If you don't mind me saying, a lot of these things are quite old-fashioned."
"I prefer the term 'pre-loved.'"
Indeed, almost everything was probably found at a charity shop or thrift shop... old antiques that had long since gone out of fashion and were probably donated or sold for pennies on the doller. There was a pewter cup, a candlestick holder, two ceramic animals, and more.
"I think its neat actually, gives them character," he agreed.
The merchant stilled for a moment, and then nodded.
"So, would you like the potion, Aegis?"
Her tone had returned to her previous levels of excitement, and it seemed that she recognised him? Well, that was good to hear.
"Let's put it to one side for the moment as a maybe," he said, reaching to grab the potion of wound healing and setting it down on the counter between them. The, he picked up one of the small objects, a little ceramic mouse barely an inch long that looked like something his grandmother had. "What about this?"
"Aha! A worthy companion for any adventurer! That's my Spy Mouse, you tell it where to go or somebody to follow, and it does its best to stay out of sight and records all of their conversations for a day, then returns to you and repeats them!"
Uh-huh...
"And this?" he held up a rather blunt looking letter opener.
"A fantastic addition to any rogue's selection! The blade can cut through anything but leaves no marks!"
"Anything?"
"Anything!" To demonstrate, the girl took up the small knife and walked over to the wall, and then sunk the tiny, fragile looking blade into the brick wall as though through hot butter, and then, quite casually, began dragging it through the building.
His eyebrows rose.
"... And does it still cut whats below?"
"Yup!" She pulled the letter opener from the wall, the blade undamaged and with no visible point of entry left behind.
He had numerous questions... Like whether the strange figure realised that she had accidentally created a perfect murder weapon.
Behind him, he could feel Gallant's eyes boring into the back of his skull.
"Okay then, do you mind me asking how much for the potion and the letter opener?"
A pause.
"Well, I am not really sure how to cost them, to be honest?" It actually sounded as if she'd barely considered it, and him posing it as a question was the first time it had dawned on her that she should charge something. He could only presume that this person wasn't actually very experienced in all of this.
"Well, Tinkertech or stuff like this tends to be quite expensive," he tested, even if he should probably try to keep things cheap.
"Yeeeah... but you guys are heroes, and it's a merchant's duty to provide their wares to brave heroes fighting evil!"
Right.
He nodded understandingly.
"... I guess I could also take payment in things that aren't money..."
"... Such as?"
The figure considered for a long moment, the eyes behind the cheap-looking carnival mask utterly dark as they peered at them both.
"I'll take your names."
Were they dealing with some sort of demon right now? Carlos had never imagined that an otherworldly evil monstrosity would be dressed in such a garish manner, and without wings.
The figure reached into a pocket and took out... a small book.
"I've been trying to make an autograph collection, so if you give me a signature, you can have them for free!"
"So you'll trade Tinkertech for a signature?" he clarified, voice painfully careful in phrasing.
"Y-Yeah! I mean, I can't really charge heroes money, or too much at least. You guys are trying to keep the streets clean, and I refuse to sell to villains, so... signatures it is?"
Carlos reached up to cover his mouth.
Honestly, it was kind of cute, all of this. A newbie independent rogue offering items to heroes that sounded really quite useful, and all for a name on a piece of paper? When he made a report later he would try to plead the girls case.
"What about if we buy something from you in future?" he asked.
The figure was silent for a few seconds, as if somewhat stumped.
"Errr... maybe a signed trading card? I know they have them for Vista, so I guess they have to have them for the rest of you as well?"
"Well, that sounds very reasonable."
It sounded like a steal was what it sounded like!
Getting a Ward anything more than a truncheon took about three forms, four conversations with the bastards in PR, and for Piggot to give a damn. Giving them Tinkertech would probably require sacrificing a goat to the dark gods of bureaucracy. And requisitioning Tinkertech from another branch was like pulling a tooth from a mother tiger whilst you held its cub over a flaming pit.
But this brightly coloured person was offering them for a signature?
"Next time, ask for a little bit of money. I don't have any right now, but I am sure that we can bring a bit with us to help cover the costs for new things," he said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. Then, he reached out for the signiture book. "Do you have a pen? Oh, great, there we go! I hope you can get plenty more with time!"
"Nice doing business with you! Um, what about your friend? Does he want anything?"
"I'll buy something another time, if that's okay," Gallant excused.
The garishly garbed girl nodded, and perhaps there was a slight disappointment there. But, with a word of gibberish, the impromptu store packed itself back into the rucksack, which the girl slung back onto her shoulders.
"Well, this has been fun, but I must get going!" she called, waving at them and then turning and beginning to walk away.
Carlos made no effort to stop her; frankly he was more concerned with making sure she didn't get troubled on the way. But for how bright her clothing was, the gloom of the alleyway swallowed her in seconds.
In the long pause that followed, Carlos hummed loudly.
What a curious meeting.
Much more pleasant than a lot of introductions to new Capes he'd had.
"Well that was interesting."
"Did your power pick anything up?"
Gallant shook his head.
"Not at all, it was like she wasn't there at all... maybe she did something to that outfit of hers so that powers couldn't pick it up? Either way... reckon we'll see her again?"
"Can but hope. Anyway, lets head back before we get in trouble for dawdling... I imagine Win and Armsmaster are going to go crazy when they check out this letter opener."
The next day
Taylor Hebert was proud to say that she had made her first sale as a Parahuman.
And to heroes no less!
Well, it was her policy to only sell to heroes, but still, she'd done something to contribute towards the future improvement of the city, even in just a small way!
When she'd finally worked up the courage to go out in costume, a part of her had expected things to go very badly indeed. After all, how many successful rogues do you actually hear about? Especially ones who sold tinkertech?
Not many, that was for sure... and certainly, she could join the Wards or whatever, but if she did, they would probably try to restrict her tinkering and what she could do, and really... she much preferred this wandering merchant vibe she had going! Years of watching her father run Dungeons & Dragons games had given her a certain fondness for the idea, and when she did gain the power to imbue objects with strange, semi-random powers... well, what else was she to do!
Still... she had her first sale last night!
She was so happy with how the interaction had gone; a paranoid part of her had been putting it off for ages in case she got into trouble or the PRT wanted to arrest her, but Aegis was so nice!
It was nice to be appreciated for what she did.
So she needed to expand her selection for next time!
Taylor sat on her bed, considering a selection of objects before her.
One of the first rules of the wandering merchant in games was that they always had a random load of crap that most people would just glance over, but Taylor wanted to try to help heroes, in an indirect way.
And her power liked to add a certain amount of randomness to things... so playing the Chaotic Good provider of items was the best way to go about things, right?
Like her robes.
She'd spent days dyeing and sewing the outfit together, but when it came time for her to 'enchant' it, her power gave it some sort of ability that was near useless! What use did she have for 'protection from remote detection and scrying'!
But she didn't want to remake the outfit, so she kept it.
"What to do with you..." she murmured, reaching down to pick up a pair of antique fire tongs.
Unfortunately, most of her items were old crap that nobody desired in this day and age.
Trying to buy a good selection of wares on her small pocket money wasn't easy, so she'd gone to charity shops and thrift shops and picked up loads of things that nobody wanted... It was quirky, okay! She'd loved the responses of Aegis and Gallant the other night as she'd explained some of her items to them.
But still, the tongs...
She directed her power towards the item, and as she considered the item a number of thoughts came to her.
They were resilient to heat, so maybe they could act like a truncheon that made a person immune to high temperatures?
Alternatively, they could be used to grab something from afar, so perhaps they could like... extend to grab things from across a room?
Hm...
Let's go with the first option.
The first tongs began to glow a faint red, runes and symbols in utter gibberish or a language she didn't understand appearing along its side as she focused on it, guiding her power along.
Her power never produced an effect exactly how she imagined it, and sometimes she almost thought that it had a sense of humour. Like when it made a magic eight-ball that gave genuine hints about the future, but only in the form of morse code.
Empowering the tongs took a good half-hour of concentration; exactly what she was concentrating on was another matter, it all fell into a strange haze, but in the end, she was done.
The fire tongs now granted the person wielding it absolute immunity to high temperatures up to the melting point of iron, and as for what random quirk her power had granted it... The grabbing end of the item were permanently set to a temperature of a thousand degrees.
Wonderful.
+1 Flaming Fire Tongs of Fire Resistance.
Well, it was on theme if nothing else.
She'd advertise it as something for people fighting Lung to use, maybe?
Gingerly placing down the tongs in a heat-secure part of her rucksack of holding, she considered the next object, and old hand mirror.
Maybe something that could reflect lasers and Parahuman attacks back at a person? Either way, she needed to get the rest of these knick-knacks empowered before she next went out!
Several days later
Another day, another stack of paperwork on the desk of Emily Piggot, Director of the PRT ENE.
She got in to work at the same time she always did, and had her coffee on her desk just the way she liked it... and she would most certainly need it. Truly the wheels of bureaucracy never stopped turning...
A knock at the door.
Emily glanced to her schedule for the day, and saw that there was a late addition that had been put on it last night.
"Come in," she called, barely glancing up as Miss Militia stepped in and closed the door behind her.
"Good morning, Director."
"Morning, Militia. Did you have a pleasant evening?"
"Very, yes. It was quiet, no trouble at all."
"Always a blessing."
Emily set down the paper she'd been looking over and turned her attention fully to the woman. The Parahuman wouldn't be here purely for small talk and to discuss how their evenings went, no, something must have happened, and she could take an educated guess as to what.
"I presume the merchant girl appeared again?" she asked, and the other woman nodded.
"Yes, ma'am, although we're officially calling her 'Wandering Merchant' now, given the small time group up in the north of the city."
"Of course."
The appearance of a strange girl who sold strange kick-nacks and homemade Tinkertech potions was an odd one that they were actively monitoring, but so far, it had only been a positive.
It was a little erratic; the girl seemed to prefer approaching Wards rather than adult Protectorate members. Whether it was down to nerves or loneliness with people of her own age group, she didn't know, and it wasn't her job to psychoanalyse Rogue Parahumans.
She'd leave that to others.
"So, who was it on patrol last night?"
"Kid Win and Shadow Stalker."
"And it all went well?"
"Yes Ma'am, Shadow Stalker got an improvement to her crossbow, a little clip on attachment that makes the bolts home in on a target."
Interesting... and something that would drastically improve the girl's usefulness.
She was undeniably a good shot, but reducing the margin of error would be a great boon into the future. Emily would have to give some thought about whether they needed to adjust tactics with her from now on.
"And what is this clip?"
"It's a laser pointer, of the sort college professors use. It also talks to Stalker in a high pitch voice, trying to give useful advice."
The notion of the unapproachable vigilante using a cheap laser pointer taped onto her crossbow made Emily want to smile.
She didn't, but the image would cheer her up for the rest of the day.
"And Kid Win?"
"He didn't buy anything actually. Well, not yet, he's asked Wandering Merchant whether she could make something in particular for him."
Well then.
"Did he now? I didn't realise that she took commissions," Emily said, voice a little clipped. If she'd known, then the PRT could have opened up communications for some things in particular that could be of great use.
Armsmaster's creations were a benefit, but it was clear that this new Rogue had quite a variety of things she could make that he couldn't.
"Apparently she can, yes... it might take a while and have some curious side effects. He wanted something to help with his attention deficit issues. "
Well, she supposed it was respectable enough that he wanted to focus on some self-improvement; she'd rather he focused on something that would improve his Tinkering... Actually, she supposed that this may well help?
Smart boy.
"Schedule him for an additional patrol in the next week or two to make sure they can meet again. Actually, whilst I'm thinking about it, allocate some of the budget to providing them with some funds to buy things. I know she takes signatures, but I'd rather she had the money to make good things."
"Yes ma'am... it does seem like she had a habit of using strange bits and pieces for her creations."
"Quite. Imagine what she could do with some actually decent things, it's a shame that letter opener couldn't be an actual sword."
"That seems a rather horrifying idea."
Privately, Emily had rather high hopes for the thing... the tiny blade not only didn't leave a mark, it went through solid materials. A random teenager had accidentally created a knife that utterly ignored armour, and there were plenty of problems in this world that such a thing could help with. Especially combined with the fact said girl could make 'Potions of Invisibility', two of which Gallant had purchased a few days ago.
It was a miracle that the girl was of a heroic nature...
"Oh, and tell the Wards to see if they can get more of those potions of hers, the medical team is running low."
"Yes, ma'am."
Emily glanced to the screen of her computer for a moment, pulling up the profile they had on the girl.
So far, it was rather incomplete, listing various encounters... for some reason, Thinkers were utterly unable to find much about her, something to do with interference that likely originated from her outfit or something like that.
"If I may, Director?"
She nodded.
"We've been wondering about making a recruitment pitch to her, now that she's gotten quite used to the Wards. She's always quite friendly, after all."
Emily considered the matter for a few moments, as she had been for a few nights at this point. The recruitment of any Parahuman the PRT met was a prime directive of sorts; even Capes with seemingly useless powers were much better in the organisation than out, after all.
"No, don't make any attempts to recruit her."
Miss Militia blinked.
"Is there any particular reason why you do not want us to give her the pitch, Ma'am?"
"If we did, they'd probably try to transfer her somewhere else immediately, given the variety and effectiveness of what she'd produced... I can see it already, New York would want her immediately. But if she's a Rogue who exclusively wants to work with us, then we can continue to benefit."
It was perhaps a slightly isolationist and utilitarian approach, but at this point she'd take everything she could get.
And if some teenaged girl wanted to play at being some sort of video game shopkeeper who exclusively sold to her local PRT... and for basically no cost at all? Well, she'd damn well take it.
Understanding dawned in Miss Militia's eyes, and she nodded again.
"Very smart, Director."
"I try my best. Now, I am afraid I have a meeting in ten and a good number of emails to get through, Militia, so if there's nothing else to discuss?"
"No, Director."
"Keep me updated on the Wandering Merchant situation, and make sure that Shadow Stalker doesn't get any funny ideas with that improvement to her crossbow."
A few weeks later
Dennis, aka Clockblocker, had a mission.
One set not by the PRT, but by the very heavens themselves!
"Can you please slow down! You've got longer legs than me," said Vista beside him.
"Just use your power to keep up, we need to cover more ground!" he replied, unable to help the silly grin on his face as he continued to powerwalk forward, glancing from alleyway to alleyway. "I just know we're going to run into her tonight!"
"Clock', we do still have to follow protocol."
"I know, I know... but c'mon! I've been on like, seven patrols since she started turning up and I haven't run into her once, why does everyone else get the luck?"
"Maybe she knows how much trouble meeting you would be and is avoiding you?"
He ignored Vista's comment.
In the last two months, almost every other Ward had been met by the mysterious merchant of magical wares, and the PRT was very, very keen to keep those interactions going. And Dennis approved! Old piggy even gave them each a 'Wandering Merchant' stipend of a hundred bucks to spend whenever they met her.
And boy had they benefitted!
Shadow Stalker's crossbow now had homing bolts... even if it also talked to her with an overly chirpy voice that she despised. And Armsmaster was pushing the limits of what could be done with a 'ring of sustenance'. Now that he didn't need to eat and only slept two hours a night he was reaching new levels of efficiency.
Or so he'd heard; apparently Dragon had been forced to do a wellness check on him recently.
More importantly---
"There she is!" Dennis pointed with all the subtly of an excitable five-year-old, and then practically charged forward.
Wandering Merchant was all that folks had described and more; the robes were fucking sweet, and she'd already set up her little impromptu shop and was waiting for them.
The selection had expanded in the last few weeks; Carlos had said that most of the shelves were empty when they first met her, but now they were practically full!
Dennis strode up to Wandering Merchant, took a deep breath, and then---
"I need your strongest potions, potion seller!"
A pause.
The mysterious rogue leaned forward slightly, the dark pits of the eyes behind the mask focused on him and him alone.
"You cannot handle my strongest potions."
SHE DID THE THING!
He laughed, he laughed like a loon and almost slapped his thigh like an old man as Vista reached his side and promptly elbowed him in the side, turning his laugher into wheezing.
"Sorry, he's been like a kid on Christmas morning when it comes to meeting you," his companion said, exasperation lacing his tone.
His side hurt, but it was well worth the pain!
"Well, it is wonderful to hear that my humble little shop is so popular! So, what can I offer you today, heroes?" Wandering Merchant asked, voice chipper as she leaned on the countertop.
Before Dennis could speak up, Vista did so, asking in a deadpan;
"How about something to make this guy shut up?"
"Here! A cone of silence, just put it on your finger and all sound in a five-metre radius is muffled to basically nothing!" Wandering Merchant held up what was unquestionably an old thimble.
"Done."
"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Dennis protested as Vista accepted it straight up and without even trying it out first.
"Yeah, but now I might actually be able to read a book without you distracting me... should make home a bit quieter as well."
Damn, he didn't realise that he was getting in peoples way so much.
Remaining quiet for a moment, he watched as Wandering Merchant took Vista's signature as payment, scanning the shelves and selection. He had so many questions he wanted to ask about the various objects...
When she was quite done, Wandering Merchant looked to him.
"So, what's the most exciting thing you have in store today?" he asked.
"Hm... I recently got a sword?"
"A sword? Where the hell sells swords in Brockton Bay?" he asked, genuinely curious, but only got a shrug as Wandering Merchant reached under the counter and lifted some sort of old, antique cavalry sabre.
"What can it do?"
"It can cut people at long range. If you can see your opponent and you cut, it cuts them! I mean, its kind of dangerous so it should probably only be used by professionals."
".. So it's like Jack Slash?" Vista clarified.
"... Errr, yeah..."
Way to kill the mood, Missy.
"It's also basically indestructible, though! And it cleans itself and helps you defend yourself! I tried really hard to make it extra special!" Wandering Merchant continued, evidently keen to move away from the comparison to the leader of the Slaughterhouse Nine.
"That's really cool, but we'd probably get put on console for a year if we bought a sword off you," Dennis admitted. "But we'll tell everyone else in case it interests them, it looks like a really good sword."
One of the Protectorate members could probably make better use of it anyway.
If they bought it, it would just get confiscated.
Shaking his head, a certain calm settled over him as a little of excitement of this all drained away.
For all the childish glee he'd had at the thought of visiting the Wandering Merchant, there was a very serious reason for why he'd been so keen to meet her...
"... Hey, you got anything that can help with cancer?"
"Cancer? I thought Panacea could deal with most things..." Wandering Merchant mused, and then glanced over towards the shelf stocked with potions
"She can, but... she's busy and such, the lines long..."
He'd considered just damn well asking the Dallon girl, and someday he would if it came down to it. But maybe, just maybe...
Wandering Merchant reached up and took a small glass bottle that looked like it had seen better days.
"Here, this is a potion that removes disease. I think it should work for cancer? If not, I can try to make you something specifically for it."
The jovial tone from before was a little muted.
There was no question of whether he wanted it, she just added it to the other items on the front desk.
"You need my signature?"
"It's on the house," Wandering Merchant replied at once.
"You don't need to do that."
"I don't, but hey, how many diseases am I going to run into any time soon? It's just... old stock I can afford to clear."
She was lying, and it was blatant.
"Thanks."
He didn't realise that his voice had trembled for a moment there, and clearing his throat, he chuckled in a way he didn't quite feel.
"Well, you got any of those healing potions? The folks in the medical bay are always asking us to get more."
"You don't want something more exciting?"
"I'll grab something special next time. I'll just do a potion supply run and keep everyone up top happy."
In truth, getting the one thing he really wanted from all of this had rather made all the shiny artifacts around him seem a lot more dull.
In the end, for the hundred-bucks Piggot gave them and a signature, he got ten healing potions, including one of the special ones that could regrow limbs. All of them went into a small hemp shopping bag that Wandering Merchant had below the counter; it was almost sweet how simple she kept things despite being able to create wonders...
But the only potion he cared about was the small bottle she carefully wrapped up in cloth to keep safe and handed him.
"Anything else?"
"That'll do for now, I think. Next time I'll come back with some signed cards and really splurge," Vista promised.
"I'll look forward to it!"
They stepped away, and Wandering Merchant began packing away her wares.
Always the same script; with their shopping done, the rogue would disappear into the darkness until some other night when a group of Wards or heroes would change upon her, no doubt with some new things for sale.
"... You know they said that we can't buy things from her for personal benefit, right?"
"Yeah well, they can suck it. They wouldn't say the same if it was their own dad's dying, would they?"
Dennis watched as Wandering Merchant pulled off her normal disappearing act from the alleyway. She never stayed long, perhaps worried about villains or just... content with the trade for the evening.
"... I didn't realise he was sick."
Well, it wasn't like he'd told folks... it would rather ruin his image as the Wards designated jokester if he went around letting them all know about his dad.
"It's fine... hopefully now he can get better."
A few days later, he got the best news he'd had in years, breaking down in his dad's arms as the preliminary tests came back clean.