Chương 45: Quatrain

The pawn shop was really more of a pawn nook. It was located under the stairs inside an off-the-beaten-path teahouse. The venue itself hid in a quiet alley at the end of several unlikely twists and turns—all but impossible to find without some prior knowledge. Jordan was familiar with this type of business, of course. Back when he was still a functioning member of Earthling society, he used to be that guy.

The guy who would bring dates to taprooms or whiskey bars that had 'you have to be in the know' as a selling point. As such, he was tickled to see the same marketing gimmick applied to a teahouse in Featherift City. As soon as Jordan walked in, he was greeted by a simple sign that read'the White Dragon House'. The patrons looked up only briefly—not long enough to register the newcomer's [Character Sheet]—before turning back to their tile games and furtive conversations.

Which suited Jordan and his purpose just fine. Are these people unemployed or just …

'differently employed'? Either way, they were Jordan's people—whatever was the equivalent to tired millennials in Radiant Vigor Era Stormvast. Funnily enough, the realization put him more at ease as he headed for the stairs that led down to the basement. The pawn shop was really more of a pawn nook. Aesthetically, it looked as if a subway ticket booth had been wrapped up in wooden lattices and white silk paper.

Functionally, it served to elevate and obscure the shopkeeper from view—an intimidation tactic to lower the client's defenses against a bad deal. Well, good thing Jordan wasn't here to make a deal. Instead, he meant to patronize a side service that was particular to this specific location." Pawning or selling?" asked a female voice from somewhere behind the barrier." Neither."" Magical or mund—a moment… did you say neither?"" Yes."

"… You're here for the dictation service, then?"" Yup."" A moment." A few seconds of rustling, familiar enough for Jordan to form a picture in his mind." I charge by the word. Is that acceptable?"" That's fine, but I'm no good with words, Miss. A fellow told me you do the thing where I give you some ideas and you pretty them up for me?"

"… That'll cost extra. One copper per word, minimum order of 20 coppers." Oof. Seems like you're asking a lot from customers who're presumably illiterate, but what do I know?" That works for me, Miss."" Very well. Who is this letter to?"

"… A friend. I mean to give it to her in person, so you don't need to include her name in the word count."" And the nature of this letter? The tone you're aiming for?" Well shit, I didn't think that far!

"… Uh, a friendly tone."

"… Warm and appreciative. Very well. You may begin." Jordan cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. He thought about bailing on the prank right then and there, already regretting his half-baked decision to go through with it in the first place. Then again, he was curious how this 'scribe' might go about prettying up his ideas. What did you spend your whole adult life writing emails for if even this is beyond you? The bare minimum is all we ask. Charisma DC 5 Roll: 3 Final: 5 Result: success" We, uh…

we met under extraordinary circumstances," Jordan began in fits and starts, "yet already, the rapport between us feels like the most ordinary thing in the world. That, to me, is the mark of a worthwhile and enduring friendship." No sound from the other side of the barrier. If Jordan weren't mistaken, the scribe had yet to put brush to paper." Your words sound perfectly adequate to me, Mister. Are you sure you want to pay extra for me to paraphrase them?"

Oh shit, Jordan panicked, they do sound perfectly adequate, don't they? In fact, they're borderline fire if I say so myself." Uh… can you make them sound more Stor— ahem! —more like one of them poems, Miss? Would help me sound smart, and probably saves on the word count too."

"… If you expect me to write like one of the Elderift-Dynasty masters, the best I can offer is a poor imitation." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions." And your poor imitation would be a sight better than whatever I can come up with. Go ahead, Miss."

"… Very well." The rustling was back. Assured and precise." Shall I read it back to you?"" Please." It was the scribe's turn to clear her throat. If Jordan weren't mistaken, he detected just the slightest hint of nervousness." Fate weaves magic into our bond most mundane, Not in a hundred years will my fondness wane." Jordan fell silent a while, just basking in the warmth and appreciation. Until he remembered that these words were meant to come from him. At which point he felt himself go red." Ahem.

That's real good, Miss, but uh… don't you think it might be a bit forward? I said I'm just writing to a friend."" Well, since you refuse to elaborate on the nature of this friendship, I had no choice but to make some assumptions! Do you wish for me to rewrite the letter? I still have to charge you for the portion that's already—"" No, no, it's alright!" Jordan cut in hastily, deciding that the joke had gone far enough.

"I'll pay now. How many words was that?"" I suggest you add two more lines."" Excuse me?"" Pray don't take this as me trying to upsell you for no legitimate cause. But you asked for poetry, and the Elderift masters exclusively wrote quatrains."" Oh. Okay, but what if this ordinary Goldcrest man is perfectly happy with a couplet?"" I only say this for your sake, Mister. If I were the friend receiving this letter, I'd much prefer a quatrain to a couplet."

Jordan narrowed his eyes, even though he knew the scribe couldn't see him either. Hang on … is she somehow in on the joke? That possibility only made him more nervous… but it also made it harder to back down now. Time to dig deep, lordlet. See if you can't dust off that 'game' you left behind on the wrong side of a global pandemic… Charisma DC 10 Roll: 11 Final: 13 Result: success Jordan thought he had something, inspired as he was by the first two lines of the quatrain.

It would be a stark departure from his usual 'style', but then again, when in Stormvast…" From Vessel to vessel let yearnings impart, Not with a thousand cups could I fill my heart." A looong stretch of silence. At first, Jordan only wondered if the deliberate lowercasing of the second 'vessel' had gotten across to the scribe. As the silence stretched on, however, he began to sweat into his tunic. It got so bad, in fact, that his bones started to ache like he was casting [Dig Hole] with gate-blind mana in hand.

Finally, mercifully, a response. One almost just as hesitant as Jordan felt." I'm not sure that any improvements I make to those lines would be meaningful. With your approval, I can finish writing the quatrain as is. In which case, I of course shall adjust the rates accordingly." Jordan frowned as some of his embarrassment gave way once more to confusion. Wait, does this mean she's not in on the joke? Or is this her way of committing to the bit? Just in case it was the latter, he decided to play along."

Awful kind of you to say, Miss. Well, you're the expert, so I'll take your word for it. How much do I owe you?"" One moment." More rustling as the scribe finalized the collaborative poem in ink form. As Jordan pictured the scene inside the booth, he suddenly blurted," Will you sign it, Miss?"" Sign it? I can, but I'll need your—"" No, not with my name. With yours."" With mine? But whatever for? This is your letter."" Yeah, but you wrote it. Wrote half of it anyway.

Go on, Miss, the poem will mean that much more with the master's name on it."" I'm no master!" the scribe protested with some real heat behind her words. Talk about committing to the bit!

"Besides which, if I were the friend receiving this letter, I'm liable to be rather cross to see the signature of another—"" Oh, I'll add mine too, if that'll make you happy!" Jordan snapped, while having barely any clue what he was mad about.

"And what kind of attitude is that toward your customer, anyway? To think I paid extra just to be treated like this!"" Excuse me?" The temperature had gone up a notch. Literally. Something palpably hot radiated from behind the barrier as a shadow rose upon the silk paper.

"I'll have you know that I take great pride in my work, and I won't suffer any insults from riffraffs like you! Besides, if you know how to write, which you clearly do, then why are you—" A small panel upon the barrier slid open with force, letting out an angry'crack!' when it hit the frame. Where there had only been lattices and paper a moment ago now emerged a young woman's face. … Or the rectangular portion of her face that was visible between her gray headwrap and scarf.

Customer and shopkeeper stared at each other in stunned silence—he craning his neck, she looking down from her elevated platform. Canyon of Amber Lake was clearly shocked to find Jordan Yu staring back at her. Whereas Jordan was shocked by Canyon's shock. Welp, he thought to himself numbly, I guess she wasn't doing a bit, after all. At a conservative estimate, the staring contest lasted for about an eternity.

Canyon broke it off first, but not before turning beet-red inside her rectangle—redder than Jordan thought was possible for a human to be. She then slammed the panel shut as she once again disappeared behind the barrier." That… that will be 28 coppers!" the Chronicler- moonlighting-as-scribe announced shrilly. Still unable to formulate a coherent response, Jordan wordlessly counted out the money and put it on the counter.

The panel slid open again, but this time only for one porcelain hand to shoot out, grab the coins, and hide again. Then, incredibly, Jordan's millennial survival instincts kicked into high gear, as he turned to go. Even though he hadn't received his letter yet. Even though the whole reason he'd come to the White Dragon House was to find Canyon! He forced himself to stop and wait. Even though the effort nearly killed him. Then came proof positive that the system had a sick sense of humor.

For it decided this to be the best time to announce: Affliction cured. [Doom Spiral].