The Hermit's Hoard

“Well, I certainly understand why you’re having difficulty finding something like that,” she said, after a suitably long pause. “They’re not easy to come by. Let’s see…” Ducking back behind the counter, she fished out a small stool and dragged it towards a teetering shelf. Only wobbling a little on the stool, she began nudging some of the trinkets around as if she were actually looking for something.

Maybe she could tempt Effron into an impulse purchase? “We do have quite a few figurines. Perhaps one of them will suit your needs.” Sifri picked up a few pretty trinkets that had minor enchantments, pretending to evaluate them before putting them back. Then she settled on one that was much more familiar, a glass miniature of a fire elemental. “Must it be an animal?” she asked Effron. “This particular figurine was previously used to summon its likeness from the Plane of Fire. If you’re looking for combat ability, it’s very efficient.”

Sifri hopped down from the stool and put the fire elemental figurine on the counter, turning it to catch the candlelight. The warm flames refracted in the glass brought a smile to her face. Still, she was glad she no longer had need of this particular trinket. Sifri casually pushed the stool back under the counter, content that she’d delayed long enough.  “Rens also possesses a Silver Raven figurine, though it’s a little small for your requirements.”

Sifri moved on to the list Rens had given her – names and details of particular individuals with an interest in magical items. Many of them were simple collectors, but a few were enterprising merchants. Her employer may not have understood the complicated accounting system she’d developed, but his ability to sniff out potential business contacts was extraordinary. Their profit margin proved it. Tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear, Sifri inked her quill and started a letter to a wealthy merchant lord. She had barely finished the salutation when the bell over the shop door tinkled. A bright smile was already on her face as she looked up, though it slipped for a moment when she saw what – who, she corrected herself – had just walked in.

She wasn’t sure where to look first – the horns? The mismatched eyes? Or – there it was, the arm that gave the tiefling his unfortunate moniker. Sifri recalled an earlier list from Rens, and decided that this new customer had to be Effron the Twisted. She reached out with her magic just a little bit… yes, it was unmistakable, a slight aura of death clung to him. Realising she’d been staring a bit too long, Sifri scolded herself. Don’t be rude, she thought. You’ve seen worse.

In an instant the friendly shopkeeper mask was back in place. “Hello. Effron, isn’t it? I’m Sifri,” she said, dropping her eyes demurely as she introduced herself. “I assume you got my letter. And the, er, wine.” She crinkled her nose. “I hope it wasn’t too much for you. My employer’s vintages sometimes have interesting side effects.” Having tried a few sips of Rens’ creations herself, she hoped had not sent any of those bottles.

Sifri spread her hands wide. “Welcome to The Hermit’s Hoard. You’ll find we have many enchanted items here.” She gestured to shelves crammed with trinkets, a rack of magic-imbued clothing, and several larger items tucked against the walls. If not for the constant tingle of power that emanated from nearly every piece, the place would appear to be a grandmother’s attic. “Whether you’re looking for a gift for a magically-inclined friend, or something more purposeful than pretty, I’m sure we can assist you. And if there’s something we don’t have, Rens is often on the road and may be able to obtain it for you.” She made sure to put the subtle emphasis on the word, as Rens had instructed. Those in the know would… know.