Chojin Patriarch
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Ooh, good point. The Caliph cast the magic and wonder of his city into the Dream... But he still awoke in a Baghdad with a population. I wonder if any of those people suddenly found themselves missing a loved one, or a friend, that morning?8th November 2012
17:28 GMT +3
I look around what appears to be an open market, stalls arrayed in all directions and the noise from hawkers and potential buyers near deafening.
"So, how many of these are real people?"
To be fair, the work was done by Morpheus. And his power is a lot more elemental than mere magic. He could quite easily have copied every person in the city, the Caplih included, as a spirit of the Dreaming."What do you mean by-?"
"Real. Actual people, whether they have material bodies or not." I look over to a stall that appears to specialise in dates, ceramic pots filled with the things arranged on a wooden stall. "Did al Raschid send actual people here, or parts of their personalities, or… Alter the structure of the Dream by… Burning part of reality?"
...Huh, the social equivalent of a non-sequitor.A small bullock with a balloon tied on its midsection floats by, using flippers strapped to his hooves to control its forward movement.
"And where the heck did that come from?"
...Dream logic at its finest. I don't even...The bullock turns its head towards us. "Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry. Where the heck did he come from?"
And that sort of thing has its own risks. No need to compound their trouble."Hmpf." He tosses his head, then swims away.
"I do not know, and I do not know." He shrugs. "I was not there when the Caliph made the pact with Morpheus, or to observe the transition. If you want to know, you could make the time to ask him yourself."
And I'm no doubt sure someone will offer such a thing. Whether it's real, and whether you can pay what they ask for it..."Ah, Doctor?" Sanderson is looking around too, but in his case his expression is one of wonder rather than the suspicion I'm sure is on my own face. "What are we looking for?"
"A map would be useful. Tools that will assist us in entering the Tower, or finding John Constantine."
Heck, they probably have a link to the Heartlands, so they can spend Dollars there.Alan nods. "What do they take for currency around here?"
"This place is the dream of a great trading city on the silk road, between Europe and China. They will take any currency, speak any language and honour any agreement. You can trade with American money."
I mean, Demons do love their contracts...The Demon raises his eyebrows. "Take card payments, do they?"
Dr. Balewa looks surprised. "There is a bank that gave you a credit account?"
...Cute, Mr Zoat. Cute.The Demon reaches into his coat and pulls out a wallet.
"No, but they gave one to… 'James Robinson'."
I mean, I doubt that the Demon specifically did the deed on him...Alan frowns. "Who's that? And why do you-? Oh."
The Demon rolls his eyes as he slides the wallet back into his coat. "If it makes you feel better, he doesn't need it any more. Amazing how much money there is in dead accounts."
...Or not. Still, I guess he sees no shame in making use of a resource like that...Alan's frown escalates to a glare. "Are you-?"
The Demon tries to look innocent, and naturally falls far short. "He made a deal with Satanus. It was practically a victimless crime."
Such is the power of Narrative Causality.Alan's clearly not happy, but recognises that it's not pertinent to the mission. "Okay, Doctor, but how do we find those things?"
"It is the way of these places. The merchants we want will find us, if we do not find them first."
I mean... I wouldn't go signing any contracts without giving them a proper once-over. Especially if they ask for it in blood.Sanderson looks uncomfortable. "Are they gunna want… Other sorts of payment?"
The Demon looks away, making a choking, snorting noise. Sanderson edges away from him, then looks to Alan for a sensible answer.
oof, embarrassing much?Alan looks levelly at The Demon. "Constantine."
"Dreams don't go in for virgin sacrifices, mate!"
Though I suspect the more valuable the object, the harsher the payment demanded...Sanderson blushes, prompting Dr. Balewa to hold up his right hand to forestall Alan's retort.
"But, they may ask for ideas, memories, or even capacities thet you possess. They are not quite so bad regarding such matters as the fey, but it is not a foolish concern. I cannot tell you how to respond in every instance thet could arise. You can ask me for advice, but it would ultimately be something thet you will hev to decide for yourself."
Worried about spies, OL? Tattletales and walls with ears?Sanderson nods, slightly mollified.
"How circuitous do we need to be when we make our enquiries?"
Hey, at least the two of you got to meet JFK and save Uncle Sam."I am sorry?"
"How do you rate the chance of John Quinn monitoring the Dream, or us? I'm asking because I sort of assumed that Boss Smiley wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on my conversation with Liberty, and that got us in a bit of trouble."
"Yeah." Alan nods. "That's what got us into trouble."
Eh, I'm sure the lawyers who were managing things would happily step back in."Slim to none. I hev spent time with him, and I have felt nothing of the Dream from him. Using magic here for such a purpose would draw the ire of the Dream-wizards who live here. And if he can monitor us in such a fashion without us knowing it… Then we are already doomed and there is no sense in worrying about it."
"Ah." Sanderson shrugs. "I haven't written a Will. I mean, if we're doomed, I'd feel a little bad about leaving a mess for everyone."
Heh, Reflections of the early-2000's JSA Comics, where their Brownstone in New York was a museum. Managed by none other than Abigail 'Ma' Hunkel."If you just tell me what you want done, I'll forge it for you."
"I'd like the house turned into a museum and the money put into a trust to keep the place going."
Just be wary of those trying to lead you into dark alleys..."Not a problem." I look at Dr. Balewa. "Should we look anywhere in particular?"
"I believe thet the established shops will prove more useful than the market stalls." He looks around once more. "This way, I think."
Ah, OL playing the Guile Hero card.He leads the way through the market, ignoring the stall holders as they try to persuade us that theirs are the fruit, the rugs, the coffee, the jewellery, that will make our day worthwhile. I-.
I stop, and the stallholder immediately orientates on me.
Fellah, he's already buying them, no need to give him the full spiel."How much for one jar of figs?"
"These figs, sir?" He grins. "Only the finest-."
An Arabic coin of the correct period, no less. Worth about 3 grams of silver."Yes I'm sure they're lovely; that's why I'm offering to buy them. How much?"
"For one jar? One dirham."
He's probably happy to serve someone who actually knows their coinage. Instead of offering gems, bizarre coins or even scraps of rag paper with such funny green designs...Excellent. I've got plenty of silver, and I know the design Kahndaq uses for its commemorative coins. Fabricate, and… I offer the coin to the stall-holder, who checks it visually and then bites it before passing me a jar with a smile.
"Tell all your friends!"
...Oh dear. OL, have you broken your own golden rule: Never split the party!
Ah, the joys of having to follow the rules of the conceptual space you're in, huh, OL?Come on, there's no way they could have gotten that far away that quickly. I fly-.
No, apparently I don't. Impellers? No. Flying carpet? Yes. Alright, let's-.
Heh. I rather imagine there's sometimes traffic jams of carpets overhead..."Sir!" The stallholder frantically shakes his head. "Those are banned in the market, except for official purposes!"
Okay. Dismiss the carpet and toss him another dirham by way of thanks, and…
...Yeah, that sounds all kinds of skeevily exploitable."Which way to the speciality shops?"
"Speciality? Like…"
He makes what I suspect to be an obscene gesture. Huh. I remember that while prostitution is illegal in modern Iran, it's perfectly legal to have a short-duration marriage with a non-refundable matchmaking fee. The Egypt of this era had slavery, but I'm not sure what the rules were on sex.
Not that he ever expects to need to purchase figs again. Still... At least he has some tasty snacks now. And a nice souvenir for Jade."Magic arcana."
He pointedly looks away. "It is not proper for a good Muslim to involve himself in such things." He points towards a bridge a short distance away across the market without looking at it. "But since you are a foreigner, it may be that some other foreigners who may be in that direction may be able to help you."
"Thank you." I turn to march away. "I will consider you for all my future fig purchases."
Oh, boy...In tales of souks like this, getting split from your companions is a prelude to trouble, usually with ruffians, thieves or kidnappers. Who will no doubt find they've bitten off more than they can chew with OL. Still, this could prove frustrating, if he keeps catching sight of Balewa, Alan and Sanderson but can't reach them. And given the bizzarchitecture of this place, that's entirely likely.