Cluttered was a polite way to describe the interior. A smallish, two-story place, a balcony ringing the second floor. Dark wood and stone providing places to for every manner of artifact. Shields hung from the walls wherever they fit, scattered racks holding clothes. One corner dominated entirely by weapons; hanging from the walls, from racks, poking out of barrels. Jewelry and bags stretching along tables and displays. Some items you could feel the magic coming from, others glowed, moved, or whistled slightly.

There was a spiral staircase in the back of the shop near the counter, leading up to the balcony where the walls were full entirely of bookcases, overflowing with books and scrolls. Occasionally a book or scroll would fly from its shelf to find a new roost to call home. A few moments watching showed that the tomes would sometimes collide and drop like stones halfway to the floor before pulling up and sailing off to their new perches. A young woman wearing leather armor and a long cloak covered her mouth and laughed quietly as two large tomes collided with a solid thunk.

"A-ha!" a disembodied voice called out, presumably hidden somewhere in a back room or behind the clutter. "I found my scales and the loupe with the [Appraisal] enchantment on it."

A man, whose appearance and general demeanor could best be described as jolly, emerged from a hidden door behind a case full of glowing magical artifacts, each one with powers more incredible and mystifying than the last. He slammed it shut behind him, rattling the contents. Carefully laying down the large bundle of silky cloths onto the counter, he undid a small ribbon binding the swathe of fabric together.

"This," he began, unwrapping the silks to reveal a chest bound in chains with engraved, glowing blue runes. "Is by far the most valuable artifact that I have in this shop."

The young woman, probably a [Rogue] or [Ranger] judging from her armor, turned around at this, torn away from the clumsy books flitting from shelf to shelf by curiosity. She stepped closer to the counter and leaned in, trying and mostly failing to hide the hungry look in her eye. The jovial man smiled at her, his improbably large, walrus-esque mustache twitching. He reached a hand into his tunic and produced a small key.

"Why are the runes blue?" the [Rogue] asked, pointing to the chains as the man fit the key into the oversized padlock.

"Mm. Good question. Well, unfortunately for you, miss, I'm mostly self-taught." The man unwrapped the still-glowing chains from the chest and opened it. He reached inside and pulled out a smaller chest, placing it on the counter, followed by another. One was intricately decorated and made entirely of metal, the other seemingly solid, grey stone. "So I can't go into exact details and intricacies, but binding magic usually glows blue. Has to do with being a kind of law magic, I believe. Hm... Could be the other way around."

The mustachioed shopkeeper picked up the stone box and brought it close to his face, whispering softly into it. The [Rogue] caught herself leaning forward over the cluttered counter and pulled back, a potted plant nipping at her hair. She pulled it all over her right shoulder, clear of the the little plant's arboreous wrath. The stone box opened with a pop and the girl and the man both jumped.

"Ha! That always gets me. You'd think I'd remember after awhile but I never do!" He tipped the box into his other hand, catching another small key. He placed the stone box on the counter and inserted the key into a small keyhole hidden in the design on the metal box. The lid creaked open and slowly rose to reveal a white light coming from within. The girl leaned forward and squinted through the glow to see a... Glove?

"That sure seemed like an awful lot of fanfare for one glove."

"Indeed! It sure doesn't look like much, but not an [Enchanter] alive today could reproduce the enchantment on it. It's known as 'Barnabus' Nullufying Glove' and as long as you wear it, your body and speech won't cause enchantments to activate." The glove was removed from the box and pulled onto a hand heavy with rings, the bright pink sequins catching the light in incredibly tacky fashion.

"Meaning that even if you don't know if an item is cursed or not, you can still handle it." The girl saw him nod and pick up the item she had brought to sell up from the counter. She had wrapped it in a small handkerchief to avoid touching it until now, and she was hopeful it would turn out to be valuable. She wasn't clinging too hard to optimism, the local dungeon was well known for coughing up useless artifacts.

Some were outright trash, like the Boots of Blinding Speed that rendered you twice as fast but completely blind or the 20 foot long Pike of Greater Invisbility that would hide you from all but the strongest magic but left you incredibly susceptible to whacking the enemies you were hiding from in the head by accident. Some had some use like the Boxers of Holding, which were a multidimensional storage bag of surprising quality, but involved stuffing your hand up under your tunic and into your pants to use. Some were outright bizarre like the Ring of Beard Strength which made the beard of the wearer completely invulnerable. It just so happened that her item fell into the last category.

"A-ha! I think have it. This is may be a-" but the portly man was cut off by a massive bang as the door flew open and into the wall. A mysteriously cloaked figure slowly and ominously made its way in from the storm as lighting flashed and thunder rolled behind it.

"That is definitely a bit much," the [Rogue] said, grinning at the shopkeeper. He grinned back from under his mustache and the rather dramatic figure spoke.

"At last, demon! I have found your foul lair. I've considered your diabolical offer and I will take it. My everlasting, immortal soul for your hellish power!" The figure boomed. The hood was drawn back with a flourish and the cloak parted to reveal a young man in chain mail, blinking in what was apparently unexpected light.

"This happens all the time, you'd be surprised." The shopkeeper turned from the girl to the cloaked figure. "Terribly sorry for the inconvenience, my friend, but I'm afraid the demon you're looking to bargain with is actually a right after the password-gargoyle. Common mistake. I'm afraid you'll have to head back to the beginning and start over to get there."

The young man sagged. A defeated look on his face, he pulled the door closed behind him and gestured vaguely to a chair. "Mind if I sit? It took me like two hours to get here."

"Of course, m'boy!" the shopkeeper snapped his be-gloved hand and an ornate but well-worn end table floated across the room and came to a stop by the young man. A moment later a teapot, cup, saucer, and a stream of water alighted atop the table. The pot began to heat itself and tea leaves streamed from the table up and into the pot. "Help yourself to the tea when it's done, there should be sugar in the drawer. Now back to your artifact here, miss."

The bushy-faced fellow picked the artifact back up as the young man settled in for a proper pity party. The artifact itself was visually impressive in absolutely no way. A small, worn coin with a few chinks in it. The impressions on each face completely faded away, but otherwise seemingly uncorroded by time. Made of gold-colored metal. The shopkeeper picked up his loupe and began to inspect the coin, one eye squinted shut. He mumbled under his breath, presumably a spell to help decipher what the coin’s use was. As he focused on puzzling out the coin’s use, the [Rogue] began to inspect the downcast young man from the corner of her eye. Worn, patched chainmail, but oiled and free from rust. A polished sword hilt at his belt. A single, small pouch that must have been a Bag of Holding.

The tea finished brewing itself, then, and began to pour into the two cups. A pair of spoons floated from within the end table and settled onto the saucers with a set of tiny clinks. Another chair scooted itself over to the table. The [Rogue] looked back at the shopkeeper, who winked and gestured for her to sit with the boy. Weighing her options and deciding she didn’t have much to lose, she made her way to the chair and joined him for tea.

“So,” she said, sipping from her teacup, “I hear you’ve got a soul up for grabs. Why?”

The boy let out a long, strained sigh, and his head drooped back to rest on the chair. “The gist of it is, my family ruled over this city and the surrounding area. I’m the furthest from the throne, so I got missed when the military took over. It’s not even like we’re really royalty, more like extra-fancy nobles. But the head [Warlord] found out I was missed, and sent me a ransom for my family’s lives that I couldn’t possibly pay.”

“Ah, I see. So you were buying some infernal power to take the bastards out and free your family.” She could understand that. Family was important.

“Yeah. They seized the treasury along with everything else. I’m just glad I keep the sword and armor at my apartment, otherwise I’d be facing them naked.” The young man grimaced. The [Rogue] laughed, sipped at her tea.

“You could try that, y’know. A naked dude with a sword charging at them might throw them off enough to give you a chance.” The boy paused for a moment, considering this. He picked his teacup up, sipped from it, and opened the drawer in the table for a sugar cube to add to his tea.

“I don’t think that would end well for me. They’re all veteran [Warriors] and the closest thing I’ve seen to combat was an unpleasantly large rat on the way here.” He looked down into the sugar cube drawer to find it was completely filled to the brim with neatly stacked rows of sugar cubes. He considered this for a moment, took two, and watched with mystified fascination as the cubes beneath them rose up to take their places. He pushed the drawer closed again and dropped the cubes into his tea. “As much as I would love to charge in there right now, sword in hand and dick in the wind, no matter which way I look at it, I end up dead.”

The [Rogue] laughed again. “How much is this ransom anyway?” She turned and looked over to the counter as the shopkeeper tapped the coin with a small hammer, causing it to produce a flash of green light and a wet squeak. The hand holding the mallet now held a pickle. A fresh and rather large pickle. The shopkeeper considered it carefully, inspected it with his loupe, then ever so carefully and slowly nibbled it. When nothing happened, he took a larger bite.

“200,000 gold pieces. They told me any family important as ours should have that much. And we might. But I sure as shit don’t know where it is, and I can’t reach my family to ask.” The girl opened her mouth to reply and was cut off by a coo and another squeak as the shopkeeper tapped the coin to a live pigeon he had produced from under the counter and it, too, became a pickle.

“Weird. And whew, that is a lot of gold. Could you adventure for it? If you’re leveled enough you could earn that in a few years. Depending on your class it could be doable.”

“If only. I only had a few [Lord] levels anyway, but when the entire rest of my family were deposed, they all lost their noble classes and became [Prisoners], I’m pretty sure. I lost my noble class, anyway.” He looked sad, again, but perked up after sipping his tea. “Thankfully I did have access to my family’s money for trainers and tutors. So I still have a few levels. And some old heirlooms for equipment.”

Another squeak from the counter and a jar full of live, rare centipedes on the counter became a pickle still full of live, rare centipedes which promptly burst, freeing the bugs who all began a mad dash for freedom. “Why not sell the heirlooms and hire some mercenaries to take them out for you?”

“To be honest, they just aren’t worth that much. The standing army of an entire country have my family. A shirt and a sword don’t really buy whole armies.” The young man stared down at his chain shirt as if he could will it into an army himself.

“If you can’t afford an army, maybe just one hero could do it?”

“Catch!” The shopkeeper tossed the coin that he had been pickling things with toward the two. The [Rogue], wary of ending her life accompanying a sandwich, leaned out of the way. The young man, far more trusting, reached out and snatched the coin from the air as it sailed past.

His glove turned into a pickle with the now-familiar squeak , but he managed to hold onto it and the coin. “Damn. My aunt made me these gloves.”

“I’ve determined the function of the coin.” The mustachioed shopkeep paused for dramatic effect and mild interest, watching the young man eat the pickle that was his glove. “It makes pickles, won’t work on anything that can level. And as far as I can tell, that’s about it.”

“Huh. Okay. Is it worth anything?” The girl seemed less than optimistic about the answer.

“I can give you, hm. Let’s say 20 gold for the coin. There are more than a few restaurants in this city that will pay to turn anything into pickles.”

The [Rogue], expecting far less, felt that this was a fair deal. She got up and grabbed her coin from the young man, then made her way over to the counter to collect her gold. “Do you have any good adventuring gear for...” the girl paused, quickly counting the coins in her pouch. “Under 80 gold?”

“But of course, my dear! My shop has ‘Affordable’ right in the name!” The shopkeeper leaned across the counter and got close to the [Rogue], his voice lowering consiparitorily. “Now, tell me. What sort of gear you thinkin’ about?”

The girl looked back at boy, who had pulled a handful of sugar cubes from the bottomless drawer and was tapping each with the coin, producing a number of squeaks and pickles. She let out a sigh and turned back to the shopkeeper, who ducked out of the way of a particularly large book from the library above.

“Do you have anything that can help me infiltrate a castle dungeon?”