sabra_la_antiqua | (no subject)

Who: Booklovers, residents and happenstance travellers
Where: Corehaven, Cepheus
When: Year 194, early fall
What: The Annual People's Faire of Lore and Learning, a.k.a. Nomus, a.k.a. That Week Where Books Are All Over The Place a.k.a. bibliowl mating season

[ if you happen to be visiting or passing through any Cephean town worth its salt this time of year, you're bound to find the main streets by the seeming flood and bustle of people and books, books, books everywhere. Tables and crates and stalls of every imaginable piece of literature that pen could set to paper, regardless of genre, length, age or origin; many rarely seeing the light of day for the rest of the year, or indeed at all. Bartering is as acceptable as payment in coin, with many a pair of well-loved tomes exchanging hands; and some owners are marked with a generous streak at this time of year, offering at times impressive spreads of the written word for no greater price than a promise of care and appreciation.

In the bigger cities the fairs extend for several blocks in all directions, in various parts of the city, open from dawn to dusk; and in the grandest of them, such as that of Corehaven, gaslight keeps some tables laid out, and opens others, throughout the night.

Flocks of bibliowls roost thickly in the eaves of buildings at this time of year, hooting cheerfully in the evenings. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Eheheeeeh... Treasure huntin', 'course.

[ a cackle, and the rap of a carved walking stick against the flagstones. ]

Treasure hunting, eh?

Well then, lass.... I don't suppose you'd be interested in a little job along the lines?

[attention, you can has it] Seriously?

Aye, serious as serious is.

[ wrinkled fingers stroke a weathered chin, thoughtful. ]

But I'd say a sharp lass would know.... certain things are best talked of where there's fewer ears to hear them.

And I'd say any idiot would know, the bigger the crowd, the smaller the chance of eavesdroppin'.

[ a raised eyebrow, and a barked laugh. ]

Indeed, indeed! And there's something to be said for the wisdom of fools.

[ hands curling over the knobbed top of the stick. ]

I'll tell you this, then. There's a man I know with far too much of a treasure for his own good... if you understand me. Treasure others less fortunate would be all too interested in.

I don't steal to give my spoils to other people, old coot.

And I said nothing of receiving gifts, lass.

[ a hand digs idly into a sleeve, pulling out a sliver of wood, proceeding to pick yellowing teeth with it. ]

And those spoils would hardly be of interest to you. But a trade for the kind you might be...

Uh huuuuh...?

There are certain... tomes that could stand to be liberated from a man's home.

[ pick, pick.. ]

Tomes that might be exchanged for gold, in the right hands.