Back in their common room, Cassandra began demonstrating the ritual for accessing the House of the Merchant.
"This market exists in a borderland maintained by followers of the Merchant of Wealth. Since it's detached from the material realm, you can enter from any location within Rivendale, but you'll always return to the exact spot you entered from. To initiate the ritual, draw a circle, place a silver coin for each person entering, and recite: 'Merchant of Wealth, Lord of Silver, Protector of Fair Trade, open the door to your sanctuary of commerce.'"
As Cassandra finished chanting, the space within the circle shimmered, and the room around them seemed to blur. In moments, they found themselves standing in an enormous hall bustling with activity. People appeared and disappeared around them in bursts of magic, each arriving to browse or trade.
"Here, you can buy or sell almost anything. Each desk is equipped with a magical scale that assesses an item's value. Just place your item on the scale, and the merchant will offer a price. You can also request rare goods if they aren't available on the shelves," Cassandra explained, gesturing to rows of desks, each managed by a merchant and attended by a small chest. Beyond them, a long counter displayed magical items and materials stacked on shelves behind the attendants.
"There's an auction house, too, if you're looking for something highly valuable or unique. Just remember, while everything here is fair, there's a 30% commission on all sales. They'll only charge up to 30% over an item's value, though, so no deals are particularly overpriced—or underpriced."
"How do they assess the item's value?"
"They use their magic scale, it give the value of the item at this location."
"this location?"
"Yes, there a House of the Merchant in almost every big city. And the price and availability of items depend on local circumstances."
The Traveller approached one of the counters, and the merchant there greeted him. "How may I assist you today?" the merchant asked with a friendly nod.
"I'd like 300 grams of slime fluid and a portion of golem clay," the Traveller replied.
The merchant quickly fetched the items and handed them over in exchange for two silver coins. "Is there anything else you'd like to see? We carry a wide range of goods, including live creatures," the merchant added.
"Live creatures?" The Traveller's interest was piqued. "I need something inexpensive, but with a strong lifeforce and spirit."
"Then goblins might be your best bet," the merchant said thoughtfully. "Due to a recent infestation, they're in abundant supply, which has driven down prices. Goblins are a solid option, as they're very cost-effective in terms of their lifeforce and spirit. We also have other creatures if you're looking for a familiar or mount; spirit cats, for example, make excellent companions."
"How much are the goblins?"
"Standard goblins are five silver coins each. Magical varieties are available as well, though they're more expensive based on their specific enhancements. All goblins we sell are 'processed' to prevent any… unintended reproduction."
"Processed?" the Traveller raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, goblins are known for their rapid reproductive abilities with almost any female creatures above a certain size, so we ensure all goblins are sterilized for responsible ownership."
"I'll take two for now," the Traveller replied, paying the merchant.
Once they had their items, Cassandra led the way back to the squad's common room, initiating the return ritual by drawing another magic circle. The goblins, classified as "goods" by the Merchant's magic, materialized alongside them.
Cassandra grimaced, eyeing the goblins with clear distaste. "Why on earth would you buy these revolting things here?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "But...never mind. We all have our magics and their prices."
"Don't worry. I'll get rid of them soon," the Traveller assured, pulling the sedated goblins into the ritual room—a private space the squad reserved for messy rites, conveniently outfitted for easy cleaning.
"Now, it's time for some fun," he said, shutting the door behind him with an unsettling enthusiasm.
I don't like this kind of fun, Lucian interjected, his mental voice brimming with dread as he clung to the idea of his own face. Why did I even tell you about the Faceless ritual?
The Traveller laughed. "Think of it as for the greater good, Lucian. Once we make some serious coin, I'll even give you a day off to take the body out for some fun."
Easy for you to say, Lucian replied, but his words quickly turned to mental screams as the Traveller set to work. Goblin's face was slowly peeled away in strips, the grotesque procedure punctuated by Lucian's horror before the Traveller muted him entirely.
After a few minutes of careful work, the Traveller sighed, examining the misshapen scraps in his hands. "Who knew it would be so hard to get a clean face? Horror movies make it look so easy." He set the pieces aside in a bowl, satisfied. Then, with a snap, he unmuted Lucian, who immediately erupted in mental outrage.
You didn't need to make all those extra cuts! I could have— Lucian's voice cut off again, leaving the Traveller in peace as he tossed the pieces into the jar of slime, stirring the mixture until the goblin's face dissolved completely. The magic pulsed through the concoction, and with added clay, he molded a paste, smoothing it over the goblin's shredded visage. The ritual took hold, and a mark appeared —a twisted emblem of connection to a formless, faceless entity in the spirit realm.
With the goblin now a marked, he has all the material he need. He first killed the goblin and began conducting the Purification of death ritual on the head of the goblin.
"...in death, the ultimate price is paid, and thy magic is freed."
With the conclusion of the ritual, all that remained where the goblin once was formless face. He took out living metal he made when he fought the fell in the dark forest and began the ritual of crafting. Using face and living metal, he fashioned a mask.
Mask of the Faceless
Effect: The wearer can alter their appearance to a degree.
Price: 1. Rapid loss of identity, memory, and true appearance.
2. Consumed by an urge to reproduce, with goblins as offspring.
Note: And it hurt a lot to make! - Lucian.
Setting the mask aside, the Traveller glanced down at the remaining goblin and the headless corpse. He pondered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "No sense letting these go to waste."
He quickly invoked the Banquet of Kin ritual, feeding the corpse to the remaining goblin. The air around them grew heavy as the magic surged; the goblin consumed its kin with a disturbing hunger, and the Traveller felt a faint rush of strength. Although the power was nothing compared to the Ghoul Sword, it was still a palpable boost—useful enough to have made the ritual worthwhile. There was a lot more magic than the previous time with the fishes.
As the goblin finished its grim meal, the Traveller felt a shift, a dark satisfaction at the efficiency of his work. "Recycling at its finest, wouldn't you say?" he muttered, earning a distant mental groan from Lucian.