Greetings Longbeards!

I had an idea pop up in my head while I was reading the Liber Chaotica, and I hope this idea will leave you yearning for more!(P.S. there may be some spellingmistakes in there, but non which I could detect, having little time as it is to work on my writing, alas.)

Chapter 1: The Encounter

Kaeran wandered down the streets of the market district of Vizeaya, where the merchants praised their wares and tried to get a hold of any possible customer’s attention, as every other day. He walked further onto his own shop, after returning from his daily walk. He opened the door of his tobacco and liquor store and took off his longcoat. He turned around the sign that hung infront of the door, so everyone could see the store was open again.

The day passed, just as any other day. Customers came, bought some items, had a nice chat with the regulars and made a good profit throughout the day. Nothing new. The effort he first put into his store bore the fruits of success. No sharp and wit comments were needed to persuade people entering his shop to purchase his wares. His once keen and persuasive tongue has grown dull. The pleasure of business was gone.

As twilight came, Kaeran closed shop and headed home. He took with him a special type of weed, only smoked in small amounts. He had never tried it but some customers recommended it to him. He fetched his pipe when he got home and lit it when he put the weed in place. The taste was strong as was the aroma and he started to cough. Strangely he wanted more, and brought the pipe to his mouth once more. Even though it made him cough until his throat burned. Water did not cease the burning, nor did it bring refreshment and thus the merchant decided not to use more of the weed that evening, resisting the temptation it offered. He made his dinner alone, for he had no woman to cook it for him, nor did he have children to take care of him. In his mere thirty years of existence he had lost his family for they were thought to have joined a heretical cult and thus the witch hunters came and burned their house until only cinders and ashes remained. This all happened when Kaeran was but a young boy of eight winters old. The only thing he has left of his parents is a pendant of his father with a very weird symbol on it. A symbol consisting out of the gender symbols combined. He never knew what the symbol stood for. After he had finished his meal and silently holding the pendant, he went to bed to prepare for the long day ahead.

Kaeran opened his eyes and realized the first thought he thought was grabbing some of the Bramblethorne weed which was left of yesterday. He dismissed the idea and started showeing and after that, getting some bread ready to take to his shop. He headed outside of his cottage located just outside Vizeaya and started walking towards the city. As he walked had the pipe in his mouth, without even remembering when he lit it. Just outside the city he stopped and tried to cram as much Bramblethorne in the pipe as possible, lit is and inhaled deeply. A great coughing session ensued, but the pleasure was great. Kaeran felt himself ascend via a strange but delightful haze, feeling enlightened in some way. With this feeling he entered the city which was now seen in all manners of bright colours. This day was different, and he felt excited about working in this certain trance. And when his customers came, he had to give it all to hide his pleasurable sensation and excitement of the weed, trying to cover up the haze enveloping him. And as time passed, Kaeran smoked more and more of the weed. It became an addiction without an end, so he felt it was. More and more he took, forgetting his past griefs and wrongs and living in the now, reveling in the pleasure the weed offered him. Kaeran stopped selling the Bramblethorne so he had more for himself for the effect lessened each time he took it. He needed more of the addicting product to get in the same haze.

On one beautiful day he was in his shop when a peculiar figure entered. He was pale, elegantly slender and had intoxicating blue eyes. ‘Good day sir. How may I help you?’ Asked the merchant. The figure spoke with a tone of such grace and beauty which made Kaeran feel excited, strangely enough. ‘I am looking for a weed called Bramblethorne. It is rather hard to come by and an.’ The figure paused. ‘Acquaintance told me I could find it here. He also mentioned you stopped selling it about two weeks ago. Why?’ Kaeran looked at the figure with widened eyes. He cleared his throat and replied with: ‘As you have mentioned, good sir, it is rather hard to come by.’ The figure smiled. ‘You are lying, are you not?’ The merchant felt his heart beating in his throat and felt the veins on the side of his head pulsating. Lying to this man felt like a heretical deed, for how could one lie to such an elegant and intoxicating individual? The man stepped further into the shop, closer to Kaeran, and put his gloved hand on the shoulder of the merchant. ‘It is ok. Think of me as a friend.’ The man said, while looking directly in Kaeran’s eyes. The merchant stood there, silently, with all sorts of thoughts racing through his head. He dared not look away from the mysterious customer but decided to grab a pouch hanging from his belt. ‘This pouch has around ten grams of Bramblethorne, but it will cost you!’ The figure removed his hand from the merchant’s shoulder, and laughed. ‘Then I shall pay you to your likings! But mind you, I am but a humble man looking to please myself and my family.’ As the man spoke, he reached for a heavy looking pouch from under his cloak and let it fall on the counter. Clunk! Kaeran stood there, amazed by the amount of money the figure offered him, and greed overtook him. Accepting the money and giving away his pouch of Bramblethorne in return. As the figure greeted the merchant and turned around, Kaeran saw a strange marking on the man’s neck, just showing above the hood of the cloak. Fearing that this was to be the end of this exciting event, and all returning back to the old ways, Kaeran asked the man to stop. ‘What is that strange marking on your neck?’ The man turned and grinned. ‘It is but a symbol of those who seek pleasure and the escape of the regular and tedious daily routine. If you are curious about what I am talking of.’ The man revealed a roll of parchment from his cloak and put it on the counter. ‘You can find my family there.’ He turned around, with grave beyond any dancer’s wildest dreams, and left. Kaeran, still baffled by what happened and still intoxicated by the man’s appearance and manner of speech, picked up the parchment and studied it. He saw that it resembled a map of the grasslands around Vizeaya. After all this excitement, Kaeran thought it was best to close shop and head home.