Scrivener's Seal

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Description

While any artisans can bond a customer to any item they can make, there are many circumstances where someone needs a third party to create that bond. A customer may also wish to break a bond between themselves and one of their possessions, something which is beyond the abilities of most artisans. Tools such as the scrivener's seal are invaluable in these circumstances.

Rules

• Form: Wand.
• Effect: Twice per day you may cast the create bond spell without expending any mana.
• Materials: Crafting a scrivener's seal requires seven measures of dragonbone and five measures of iridescent gloaming. It takes one month to make one of these items.

Julius stood nervously while the scrivener examined the sword. She turned it this way and that in her long, delicate fingers. She flicked the blade once with one golden talon, and nodded thoughtfully. She put the sword down on the table between them and turned her deep bronze eyes on the bravo.

"How did you come by this fine blade again?" She asked casually.

Julius gulped. "I bought it, madame. From a Steinr fellow. He did not make it himself and so could not ..." He waved one hand vaguely. The scrivener barely suppressed an amused smile.

"You know this merchant's name?" She asked

"Yes it was ..." He began. The scrivener shook her head.

"I don't need to know the name, just to know that you know it. In case anyone asks me later." She raised an eyebrow. "Is anyone likely to ask me later?"

Julius shook his head quickly.

"And why have you brought this to me rather than going to one of your own magicians?"

"Bother one of the actors? They're too stuck up for the likes of me. And the ones that aren't are up to something. Or from Regario." Julius' mouth twisted into a sneer. "Nah, nobody there can help me. Lisette from my company told me you were cheap."

The cambion raised an eyebrow. Julius faltered and quickly started to bluster an apology but the Freeborn waved it away.

"The price is agreed then? Three rings in total, payable on completion?" The bravo nodded. "Hold out your hand, please."

Julius held out his left hand but the cambion reached out and took his right hand instead, placing it palm up on the table next to the sword. She drew a short polished wand from what he had initially mistaken for a knife-sheath, and laid it next to a roll of quills,calligraphy brushes and small bottles of ink. Working quickly and carefully, she selected one of the brushes, dipped it in the ink, and traced a curving character on the palm of his hand, and an identical character on the pale leather of the swords's pommel.

"Here then is the mark of ownership, and here the mark of being owned." She put the brush down, and picked up a sharp scalpel from her writing kit. He closed one eye, wincing in anticipation, but rather than cutting Julius' flesh, the cambion pressed the blade against the ball of her right thumb, where he could see a mass of tiny scars already existed. A drop of dark blood welled up as she put the scalpel down and picked up the wand. She pressed the tip against her thumb, then over the mark she had painted on the weapon.

"Fit this sword to the hand that wields it." she whispered. She moved the wand aside and he saw that the painted mark and the blood had run together, creating a neat, swirling circle. She pressed the wand then against the mark on his palm.

"Tie this weapon to this warrior with bonds of glass and fire."

He felt a tingle then in his hand as the tip of the wand seemed to become very cold, and then very hot as she maintained a steady pressure against his flesh. Then she removed it and he saw an answering red-and-black mark where it had been.

"The mark will fade in a day or so, faster if you use soap." The cambion held her wand casually, but she had her other hand flat on the blade of Julius' weapon. He laid his hand on the pommel of his sword, and immediately knew that it was without a doubt his; sword. He tried to lift it, but the scrivener kept it pinned to the table.

"Three rings, I believe?" she said.

"Three rings is a lot of money, especially for such a simple spell ...." he began slowly. The cambion immediately shook her head.

"Do you see those orcs, there, by the door?"

He had passed them on his way in - a half dozen bruisers, off-duty and relaxing, occasionally banging their mugs on the table in approval as they watched a couple of hairy bards from the Marches throwing a ribald tale of bawdy behaviour and war back and forth between them.

"From past experience I will have time to yell 'Thief!' twice before they are surrounding my table, asking me if everything is alright and offering to sort out anyone who is causing me problems. From there, we will proceed to the magistrates, and we will see if he believes me - a respected professional from a people with a reputation for scrupulous business dealings - or you - an unknown bravo from a people who are not known for their scrupulous business dealings. He will find you guilty of attempting to steal from me, I suspect. He will give you a fine that is a lot more than three rings. In the event you do not pay that fine, I will casually suggest that you could instead work off the debt by doing some services for me. You would not like those services, and would look back at this moment where you tried to rob me and you would curse yourself for a fool. Do you understand?"

She continued to stare at him, her face blank but her eyes .... her eyes promised punishment if he continued along the unwise course he had chosen. The bravo swallowed, his throat dry. He reached into his money pouch and placed four one-ring pieces on the table. The scrivener sighed.

"Three. Rings." She said slowly, as if to a child.

Slightly incredulous, he picked up the fourth ring and put it back in his purse. The cambion moved her hand, and he picked up his sword and sheathed it.

"It is customary in these situation to say something like 'A pleasure doing business with you.'" She said. Then fell silent. Staring at him with her eerie bronze eyes until he stammered something incongruous and left her table.

The bravo made his way to the door, without looking back. She did not watch him leave, replacing her wand in it's sheath and proceeding to make a note of the transaction in her little notebook, absently sucking on her bloodied thumb as she did so.