ꙮ The Queen’s Castle is the centre of Queenstown - the tall, steep, dramatic stone stairs up the hill, the structure, angular and forbidding, left over from a time forgotten to all but, perhaps, the Queen herself, looking out over and ruling all that it, and its occupant, surveys - but the Bazaar is its beating heart. No grand sweeping vistas, no deliberately-overwhelming approach - welcoming arches into the original vaulted, covered cross-streets that are now a vestibule opening out into the bazaar itself, coveted and storied but only a tiny fragment of what it has to offer. There’s a fountain - its statue is of the Scorpion Queen, of course, striking a dramatic pose - at the crossing, commonly used as a meeting-point. The merchants here are merchants whose grandparents’ grandparents sold at the Bazaar; they know it’s the first glimpse anyone gets of it, even if it’s their 500th visit, they’ll still be passing this way, they might be tempted to buy shining cloth-of-gold or cloth-of-silver, enriched with gnosis to be as soft as velvet, or perhaps a woven rug that’s an entire work of art, or– or perhaps you’re just here because it’s where Zaya told you she’d meet you, and you’re enjoying the ambience.
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← Active ScenesThe Queenstown Bazaar, I
stares at the statue of Jae, a little perplexed. She wonders how old it is, vaguely considers asking, more concretely considers putting one of the chicken skewers she bought with Aurelius in one of Jae’s elegantly crafted statue-hands, but figures that might be a crime? Still. The thought is there. She’s waiting for Zaya, a pack looped over her shoulder, in her trousers from Almachadta and her undershirt from Samudra and not much else. She’s hoping she’ll solve that problem. The colors clash.
arrives precisely on time, to the bell. Or, well- she hollers across the souq and waves from a ways down one of the streets, on the peal of the bell from the Queen’s Castle. She, herself, arrives a few moments later, not in the slightest way out of breath despite that she’d been hurrying. “Hi, Salme!” And then she steps forward, to give her a hug?
: “Hello!” Salme easily steps into the hug, like they’ve known each other forever and not … three days? About three days. “Thank you for making time.” She finishes off the last of the chicken on her final skewer. “This place is amazing. I’ve never seen anyplace quite so large in my life.”
looks – not relieved, exactly, but that she wasn’t entirely sure if the hug was going to be a hug, had a SOLID idea that it would be, and is glad to have been correct? “I wouldn’t miss your first visit to my stomping grounds for a vault of aurichalcum, Salme, are you kidding me?” She grins. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far, but.” She sounds a little smug. A little. “You haven’t seen anything, yet. I’m going to show you all of my favourite places.”
: “I’ll hold you to that.” She looks back up at the statue of Jae. “Though, first, has anyone ever stuck something ridiculous in one of those hands? Because. If not …” she flips the empty kebab stick around her fingers a couple times. “Well. Maybe when it’s not so busy (though is it ever not busy?) but we could.”
laughs, and whispers, conspiratorially, “I’ve been tempted to. It’d drive her batty, she -loves- the statues. I think somehow she’d just know, and jump straight from the Castle right into the middle of the bazaar. Through the roof, if she had to.”
: “Oh, well we can’t have that. That’d be disruptive,” she whispers back. “Though if there’s a place that needs remodeled, maybe there?”
: “Unveil a new statue in that one building with the kind of shitty, crumbling ceiling, with just… the world’s most inviting hand to put embarrassing articles into.”
: “Yes. Absolutely. You see the vision.” She laughs. “So,” she says, offering her arm, “I’m ready to be guided on the tour, if you’d be so kind, Saranzaya.”
takes the offered arm, with a smile! “It’d be my pleasure.” And she leads Salme down one of the central souqs, pointing out this vendor, or that vendor- introducing her to one or two of them, even – she’s got kind words for all of them, asks about their families, there’s some small talk – but she’s a woman on a mission, and the mission doesn’t particularly include THIS section of the bazaar.
listens to it all, drinks it in. She stays focused on Zaya more or less, but all the colors and and sounds and sights demand her attention. She lets Zaya guide her, but as they walk she asks, “How did this place become yours?” Because while the Bazaar is for everyone, obviously, it is Zaya’s first and foremost.
passes through another set of arches, and here– rather than enclosed and vaulted streets, here there are pillars, strung overhead with vividly-coloured draping cloths and pennants, and there’s a whole side spiel Zaya goes on about the families that wove the cloth– and that leads in to an actual answer to Salme’s question. “I grew up here. My Aava sold his and Papa’s art, and my mother sold our Clan’s loot in the markets, and I helped as soon as I was old enough to stand. And Papa worked with the Queen herself, like I mentioned, and I–“ She laughs.
: “I was managing our Clan’s stall, here. I’d been the one doing our books for– a year or so, already, at that point. And someone tried to swindle us, and I caught them at it. And I challenged them to a Rite or the Queen’s justice, and I… had a bit of a reputation, I suppose. And they picked the Queen’s justice. Which was. Not the correct call, on their part, I don’t think. They might have beaten me, but they couldn’t beat her bullshit sensors. Right?”
eyes are caught on the drapes of cloth and pennants, on the story, but when Saranzaya gets to that part, she laughs so loud. “I cannot believe sometime tried to swindle you. Is that how you met Jae? Or was that before. She said you didn’t get along at first.”
laughs. “She did? She’d been present because of Papa, and I wasn’t– scared of her. I was never at any point scared of her. She was just Papa’s boss, and I was grateful to her for that, and for her ruling against that idiot swindler, but– I thought she was pompous and full of herself, I told her so to her face, she challenged me, I singed her hair short.” She beams. “She decided to keep it that way.”
laughs harder. “Oh. Oh. Zaya, you’re amazing.” She grins at her. “That deserves a story in and of itself. Has anyone ever written it?”
: “Oh, I don’t think so. There were songs about the fight, for a few years after, just like I bet there’ll be songs about your Rite at the station cropping up in… sooner than you’d ever expect, honestly.”
snorts. “The Rite we couldn’t possibly win?” And then she relents, just a little. “Well, Wolf certainly was impressive, but. Songs about the Rite are one thing. Songs—or stories—about what those Rites tell you are something else entirely.” She shrugs. “Though I think I have a slightly different take on the Rite more generally. I’ve always viewed it as more of a tool than an end in itself.”
: “The Rite where she kept staring at you like you were made of bees and in which Wolf and Archie dropped a fucking meteor on her head? Yes.” She laughs. “It’s not about– winning. It’s– early on, she asked me a question, that apparently someone had asked her, at some point. ‘A battle is futile, lost before it’s begun. Knowing that, why do you proceed?’” She leads Salme down a particular path through the Bazaar. “To her… if you’ll always WIN, the Rite becomes a question about how you manage the resources you’ve available. If you lose your cool. If you give up, or keep fighting. It’s a conversation, by other means. A kind of conversation I think she struggles to have, with… most people.”
: “Yes well, I unfortunately didn’t get a chance to make good on my promise for being made of bees, but. She owes me a one-on-one duel.” She shrugs. “I get what you mean, though. For me it’s always … for the Sword-Saint, the stakes are almost always a story or a … conversation, yes. I do think I get what you mean there. Still.” She shrugs, “I’m not sure any onlookers except perhaps you really understood all the emotional undercurrents. I’m not sure I really understood all the emotional undercurrents.”
shakes her head. “But I don’t want to just talk about Jae, unless we’re both just nattering about the people we love. Tell me why you love the Bazaar.”
shrugs, expansively. “The emotional undercurrents were certainly -there-, they didn’t have to be understood to exist. That’s the kind of thing people just write songs about, you can’t stop ‘em.” She smiles at her. “I’ll do you one better than that. I’ll -show- you. First:” And she rounds a corner, and there’s– what looks like it was once a caravanserai, converted entirely into a boutique– clothiers, armourers, tailors, artisans, all operating under one roof together, sharing their skills. “This was -my- idea. It started as a way to help people who were trying to get their start in Queenstown, coming from somewhere else on the Beast. They’d get a stall, they’d get mentorship and guidance. And now it’s become… this. And I bet you can find SOME of what you’re looking for here. And then there’s somewhere else, I need to show you after this.”
’s breath catches in her throat seeing this. “This is larger than the entire Courtyard market and then some,” she says, eyes gleaming. “And you—you’re brilliant. No wonder the Traveler’s Guide called you The Dreamer.” She takes a couple careful steps in, and does a slow, wondering spin. “Yes. Oh, Light, yes, I think I can find so much.” She focuses back on Zaya. “That said, while I have many ideas and I have several raw materials I’d like to integrate, I’d love your advice. I’ve never—did you know I’ve never owned metal jewelry before? It’s a precious research on Almachadta. And here it’s just … part of the landscape.”
smiles conspiratorially. “If it’s jewelry you’re looking for– hold that thought, unless there’s something here that particularly catches your eye. There’s somewhere special I’d like to show you. But, there’s lots of things we do with metal here that you might not be at all used to, so let me show you around…” –and there is, there really is an absolute treasury, here– and, particularly with Saranzaya by her side, any custom work she wants done is more than achievable.
has a lot of custom work in mind, has been thinking about clothing that’s easy to move in but augmented by protective metal and leather greaves and gloves that maintain maximum flexibility. She lays out her ideas for those items, and then says, “How impractical would a dress be for where we’re going? I have some …” she reaches into her pack and pulls out a bit of gnosis-worked Samudran cloth, gauzy, transparent if not layered at least twice, but stronger than most thickly-woven materials she’s ever encountered. “I thought I could use that and … hm.” ⁂
laughs a little. “Will you judge me if I tell you I want something sexy?”
elegantly raises an eyebrow. “Does approval count as a judgement?” She also, completely unable to help herself, reaches out a hand to touch the fabric- stretch it in her fingertips, a little, and you can tell that she’s exploring its properties, lightly, with her gnosis- and she smiles. “Oh, yes. Oh, you could do some lovely things with this.”
grins at her. “Okay. Well that kind of approval is perfectly fine. I just … I’ve just chosen my clothes with relentless practicality all my life. This has been an opportunity to explore, you know?” She hands Zaya the bolt of fabric. “It’ll be some time before I weave at this level yet, but this is from Samudra. I knew we would be coming here next, so I acquired several bolts.” This one is a flickering, deep red that slides into orange and gold. “I have several more stashed away, if you’d like one for yourself.”
: “Making the people you love do double takes is a perfectly practical purpose, if you ask me.” She grins mischievously. “And, I might just take you up on that offer, their work is– incredibly impressive. Let’s talk to the artisans about what you want and let them take the measurements they need, shall we?”
: “Absolutely.”
ꙮ And here, too, Saranzaya walks through the building, talking to everyone, asking how their business has been, introducing Salme to this person and that, filling in some people on some crucial gossip, suggesting new suppliers, here and there. Making connections between people who otherwise would be apart. And, in the middle of all of it, helping Salme plan and then execute the plan for a truly magnificent outfit.
eventually, then, leads Salme back out into the bazaar proper. “Now, where is she these days.”
: “Who?” she asks, even though she’s sure she’ll find out one way or another.
: “So, I don’t actually even know her -name-.” She laughs, mysteriously, leading Salme rather quickly through a– well. ‘Shady-looking’ isn’t precisely accurate for ANY part of the bazaar, but if it WERE to be accurate for some part of the bazaar, it would be this one. “Let me know if you see a mirror that looks– like it’s in a weird place for a mirror to be?”
blinks. “If you don’t know her name then maybe she doesn’t have one? After watching you work I’m half surprised you don’t somehow know Awa’s name.”
: “I’ve certainly considered the possibility. Anyways, Awa’s never sold anything in my Bazaar, so I wouldn’t expect to know anything about him other than that you have good taste. Oh!” And then she grabs Salme by the wrist rather playfully and leads her over- and there’s a mirror on one side of the square, and a fountain - NOT one of Jae, this time, just a normal fountain - and a couple shops and stalls, set up around the perimeter of the square.
ꙮ Liminal, DC 3, please?
- Salme, The Sword-Saint invoked their 🌌liminal gnosis [d6] -> 5.
ꙮ The mirror is reflecting a store that simply is not present, if you turn around and look. The other side of the square - two stalls on either side of a pleasant cobbled expanse.
: “Oh.” She looks at the mirror. “That seems. Magical.”
nods, confidently. “That’s because it is. There’s a trick to it. You’ve got to look in the mirror, and- walk backwards through the door, while you’re looking into the mirror. Hold my hand, if you want, I’ve done this plenty of times. I have no idea how she stays in business, but she pays dues on the land, so.”
laughs and takes her hand, though she confidently walks backwards. “Well I’m glad she pays her dues,” she says, right before they walk (backwards) through the door.
ꙮ Inside: It’s dark, and smells like amber incense, rich and just barely on the right side of being pleasant, rather than cloying. Red velvet curtains, light sources that are hidden behind coloured silks, so that all the light they cast is diffuse, messy - except for the display cases full of jewelry, all sorts of metals and all sorts of precious stones, under an unsparing light, that shows off every facet to the utmost. In the centre of the room, a display case full of particular pieces of jewelry, set with lodestone, with cassiterite, with calaverite and malachite, with anglesite and pyrargite, with unbreakable vials of quicksilver worked into the design.
calls out, “Hello?”
breath catches, eyes caught on the jewelry. She’s never seen anything like it. She’s not sure she’s every imagined anything like it.
calls out from behind a velvet curtain, “Oh, hello, Hero. And I see you’ve brought a guest?” Her voice is low and gravelly and drips pleasantly with sin; she steps out from behind the curtain with a long, delicate cigarette holder in her fingertips. She’s not smoking it; it’s the source of the amber incense. “Welcome, welcome.”
: “Hero?” She cuts her eyes at Saranzaya, considering.
: “She calls me that.” Almost under her breath. “I don’t know why.” Louder: “Hello, madame. Yes, I’ve brought a friend.”
: “(I can see why),” she says equally sotto voce, and then she gives a small bow.
says, “I call you that because you’re the Hero here. Your Queen is full of hot air, bless her.” She swans over to Salme, gazing down at her with a smile, reaching out, to take her hands in her own. “It’s absolutely lovely to meet you, girl. Any friend of hers is welcome in my establishment. Feel free to look around, tell me if anything particularly catches your eye.”
laughs a little at the line about Jae, and looks back to the jewelry glittering before her. “It’s all so beautiful. How would I even … pick? Or pay for it?” Zaya’s given her a lot of lucre, but this seems. Like stuff that costs a lot of lucre.
waggles her cigarette-holder, or, I suppose, more properly, her very unusual censer. “If you made it in the door, the first piece is free. Worry about that if you come back for another. Besides, I owe your friend a favor.”
shoots a glance at Saranzaya, fond and amused and admiring. “Don’t we all?”
: “That does seem to be the way of it.”
looks over the pieces. She wants. Well. Earrings, or a necklace. Gold’s her color, though the stone—she has no real opinion. She’s never seen most of these stones before. “Don’t suppose I could implore you for some advice, Zaya?”
gives Salme a long look, and then– seems to let herself space out, a little bit, and wanders, step by step, towards the display case in the centre of the room. Her eyes focus again, and– “What about this one?”
ꙮ It’s a necklace, with matching earrings that look like they were made to go along with the necklace after the fact, but they’re no less beautiful. A gold eight-pointed star, caught inside an intricate filigree rose-gold wreath. In the centre of the star is a hollow, perfectly transparent sphere banded by an iron ring, in which is trapped a mote of quicksilver, which perpetually appears to press itself against the glass outward, towards you when you look at it, perpendicular to the directions indicated by the eight-pointed star.
looks at it, and looks at it, and looks at it. “It’s beautiful,” and she is certain, yes, that this is it.
beams, and pads over to the display case, and unlocks it, and takes it out with a quiet reverence. “The Rose Gold Rose. You’ll wear it well, I think.” And then she hands it over to Salme, closes her fingers around it, pats her hand.
tilts it in her hands, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a question on her lips, and an idea formulating in her head. She is so temped to ask if she sells rings, if there’s maybe a perfect trio of matched rings waiting, somewhere, in the shop. She opens her mouth to ask, and then closes it, instead reached up to fasten the necklace around her neck.
takes a step back, looks at the necklace, glances at Salme, and she smiles with her eyes. “I think we’ll meet again, some day. Some day soon, even, perhaps. But, for the moment, it was lovely to meet you.”
bows again, this time lower. “Thank you.” She feels the weight of the necklace against the hollow of her throat. She feels like she’s been given some kind of gift that she cannot possibly understand.
: “Do you have any business here, Hero, or was this a special trip just for me?” She says, offering Zaya her arm again.
: “Oh, none of that bowing.” She sounds fond. “I’m just a jewelry merchant.” She gives Salme and Zaya both a fond smile.
takes the arm. “You -did- ask why I loved the bazaar, I figured a special trip wouldn’t be out of line. And I’m not going to be able to get you to stop calling me that, now, am I?”
grins at her. “Absolutely not. Though I’ll not wear it out.” She goes more serious as they step out of the stop, and adds, “She’s right, you know. Aury … one of the things he remembered most was how much work you do. I’ve seen how much work you do. Heroism isn’t … well. I’m not sure a hero is really a thing that exists outside of a narrative at all, but if it does, it’s not just a fight or a flashy speech. It’s the daily, grueling work to keep a place running. Thriving. Flourishing, you might say. You’re the one doing that. I’m not saying Jae isn’t also doing her part—I don’t know—but when I think of a hero, I think of the yeresh of Almachadta, and your work sure looks a lot like theirs.”
ꙮ As you step out of the door the Proprietress calls out a gentle “Take care of yourselves, and each other-“, and then you’re standing in the middle of the cobbled courtyard again. You can’t see it in the mirror, any more, either.
smiles. And then, very quietly, “That’s very kind of you to say. It’s funny that you say that, though. ‘Hero’ used to be a… word people used here a lot more often, apparently. Jae told me. Admitted to me that she… hated the idea of people calling anyone -else- the Hero of the Beast, and took the title for herself.” She pauses. “Anyways, I’m not going to try and claim I DON’T keep the bazaar running smoothly. I’m just glad I can do my part while she does hers. I wouldn’t want -that- kind of attention anyways, I don’t think.”
: “Ah. That doesn’t surprise me. About Jae, I mean.” She looks at her. “The Sword-Saint’s kind of the Hero of Almachadta, you know. That’s the idea, anyway. There’s only ever one, and we have this Mask that we wear—always the same Mask, right? And we know stories and we remember and we travel and share those stories. We engage in Rites, as a form of communication, or as a way of telling a story. I liked the attention, honestly. I enjoyed the spotlight.” She shrugs, a little uncomfortably. “It’s sort of hard to admit, because I feel like I shouldn’t have, you know? And it’s—I don’t know how clear it was from the Library or the Linkpearl, but the Sword-Saint’s a rough deal in a lot of other ways, so I’m not trying to act like it was just about being seen or like I wasn’t doing important things, but there was something I always admired about the patient, constant work of the yeresh. So. Hm. Since I’ve played the role of a kind of hero, I think I have less … respect for the overall concept? A lot of people need it. It’s useful, but it, more than many other things, is also a construct.”
tilts her head to the side, eyeing Salme. “Jae would say that there’s nothing wrong with liking the spotlight, right now. And I think I’d agree with her. At the very least, I don’t feel like you should feel like you shouldn’t have? But I think I’m starting to understand more and more why she was able to open up to you as much as she has.” Zaya smiles. “I -know- she admires the work that I do, though. There’s never been any doubt in my mind of that, and I, also, admire the work that she does. And I think, from everything I’ve read and seen, that I very much admire the work that you do, as well.” She gestures at the bazaar. “What… part of this isn’t here because we decided we wanted it to be this way, after all? Not my whole world– just this little part of it.” A pause. “And I think that’s why I love it so much.”
: “Well,” she says, thoughtfully. “That’s it, really, isn’t it? The two of you complete each other. Or. Not complete. None of us are completed by just a single person, or even two.” She smiles a little privately to herself, “But it’s both of you, changing things, building things, amplifying and challenging and cooperating. I’ve not really seen you two together, but I can see evidence of it everywhere I go.” ⁂
: “I love this place. I knew I would—Aurelius joked that maybe I got dropped through a hole from the Beast and ended up on Almachadta by accident, and. Well, if I didn’t know my history I might think he was actually right. But I love it here. And this has to be my favorite place I’ve been so far.” She takes another long look around the Bazaar. “So thank you, Zaya. For building it and for bringing me here.” 🙧
ducks her head a little bit, and smiles. “I’m so glad. I’m so glad you could see it. When I think of– all the things that had to happen, in order for that to come to pass. I mean, I suppose you could say that about literally anything that happens, but– you know what I mean.” She gives Salme a hug, in the middle of the courtyard, and doesn’t let go for a little while.
returns the hug, holds it as long as Zaya seems to want it to go on. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”