Asher took a deep breath, pushing aside the enigmatic thoughts of the slate and its ancient script echoing in his mind. He needed to focus on the task at hand—there would be time to unravel those mysteries later. Night was falling over Menthil City, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets, and he could already feel the chill in the air.
He got up and pulled out a set of casual clothes to help him blend into the throngs of people in the market. He donned a dark, loose-fitting shirt and trousers, followed by a heavy cloak that enveloped him like a shroud. The deep hood obscured his features, making him look like just another passerby lost in the hustle of the evening.
As he adjusted his cloak, he glanced at the timepiece on his desk, the ticking hands reminding him of the urgency of their mission. Clarissa would be expecting him, and he didn't want to keep her waiting. With one last look around his office, he stepped outside into the dimly lit corridor of the firm.
Asher found Clarissa waiting for him in a small alcove just off the main hallway. She looked up, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she greeted him. She wore a similar casual outfit, her cloak draped over her shoulders and her hood drawn low.
"Ready to make some noise in the market?" she asked, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"Let's just say I'm ready to be inconspicuous," Asher replied, matching her smile with a wry twist of his lips.
With their casual attire complete, they stepped into the bustling streets of Menthil City, the air filled with the sounds of merchants calling out their wares and the faint murmur of the crowd. As night enveloped the city, lanterns flickered to life, casting a warm glow on the cobblestones and illuminating the faces of hurried pedestrians.
As they navigated through the narrow alleys and side streets, Asher couldn't shake the tension in the air. The vibrant atmosphere of the city shifted as they approached the black market, a place that thrived in the shadows, where whispers of forbidden goods and unsavory dealings echoed through the night.
"Stay close," Asher murmured, his instincts heightened as he scanned the surroundings. "We need to be cautious. The black market has a way of revealing more than just goods."
Clarissa nodded, her expression turning serious as they ventured deeper into the labyrinth of stalls and makeshift shops. The scents of exotic spices and cooked meats filled the air, mingling with the less pleasant odors of sweat and smoke. Asher felt the weight of eyes upon them, the sensation of being watched sending a chill down his spine.
They maneuvered through the throngs of people, each step taking them further into the heart of the market. Clarissa stopped suddenly, her gaze fixed on a vendor with a cluttered table overflowing with peculiar trinkets. "Look at that," she said, pointing to a small, ornate box that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.
Asher approached the vendor cautiously, an easy smile on his face, his gait relaxed. The man behind the table was a wiry figure with a weathered face, his skin scarred in a way that suggested a hard life. He eyed Asher and Clarissa warily.
"What do you want?" he grunted, his voice low and gravelly.
"Evening," Asher greeted, casually adjusting the hood of his cloak to shadow his features. "I've heard whispers about your wares. What do you have for a discerning customer?"
The stall owner narrowed his eyes, sizing Asher up. "Depends on what you're looking for. Got a few potions—nothing too fancy, but they do the job."
"Ah, nothing too fancy, you say?" Asher leaned in slightly. "What kind of potions are we talking about? Anything… special?"
The stall owner crossed his arms, a hint of pride seeping into his voice. "Depends on what you mean by special. Some potions can help with particular… situations."
"Situations?" Asher prompted, feigning casual curiosity. "Like what? I'm always on the lookout for something that could make life a bit easier in this city."
"Let's just say, some potions can help you navigate the darker aspects of Menthil," the stall owner said, lowering his voice as if fearing overhearing ears. "But they come at a price."
"Sounds intriguing," Asher replied, maintaining his nonchalant demeanor. "What do you have?"
"Your standard potions—healing, vigor enhancers," the stall owner said dismissively. "But one of my most popular items is Mummy's Respite—enhances virility. It's flying off the shelves these days."
Asher raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "That sounds useful. What's the price for that?"
"Just 5 pounds," the stall owner said, his tone proud. "You won't find it cheaper anywhere else. Men swear by it—says it works wonders."
Asher nodded thoughtfully, keeping his demeanor casual. "I can see why. But I'm curious, what else do you have? Anything a bit more… rare?"
The stall owner hesitated, his eyes darting around the market. "I keep some things close to my chest, you know? Not every potion's for sale to just anyone."
"Of course," Asher replied smoothly. "I wouldn't expect you to share everything at once. But surely, you must have a few items that could pique my interest."
The stall owner shifted uneasily, clearly weighing his words. "There are whispers of a Shadewalker potion among vendors. For the right price, I might be able to ask around."
"Ah, so it does exist," Asher noted, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice. "I imagine it would be quite valuable, especially in the right hands. What's the price for something like that?"
"Depends on who's asking," the stall owner said, his gaze flickering with concern as he scanned the bustling market. "Not everyone can handle what it entails. It's risky business, and I have to protect my clientele."
"Risky?" Asher pressed, keeping his tone casual but intrigued. "In what way?"
The stall owner hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with a trinket on the table. "It can help with blending into the dark, moving unseen. But it draws the wrong kind of attention."