In the morning, they packed their things and got ready to visit the markets. As Jak tried to pick up his travel sack, though, he found he could barely lift it. He frowned, trying again. Was he getting sick? He didn't feel weak, but to experiment he tried lifting the corner of his bed. It lifted without a problem. He tried lifting his sack again, and with his arms straining he could get it off the ground, but only with great effort. He put it down, and there was a heavy deep thud as the sack landed on the floor.

"What did I put in there?" Jak said to himself. The others had stopped to watch this strange event, and Jak opened the sack to see what was inside. The only thing that looked heavy was the troll's club, but it had never been an issue before. He tried to lift it out of the sack, and realized that the club was definitely the problem. The thing weighed almost as much as Jak himself. He'd always thought it should be heavy. It was large and made of a very dense wood. But up until now it had been as light as a feather. It dawned on Jak that this might not have been a plain club all along.

"Hey Tim, do you think I could sell this at the market?" Jak wondered. "I didn't realize it was magical, and I think it's drained now, but it might still have some value right?"

"Yea, wow, I just thought you were super strong this whole time. Let's take it with us and see..." Tim stopped, realizing how impossible it would be to carry the thing down the stairs and out to the market. They stood there, trying to think of solutions, when Ash walked up to the club. He barked once and headbutted it lightly, right where his glowing fur sat on his forehead. To everyone's surprise, there was a small flash of blue light and the club rolled lightly from the impact. Jak bent down and picked it up. Sure enough, it was very light and easy to move around, just like before.

"Ash, you are a very, very good boy." Alya said, petting the moonwolf on the head. The patch of fur on his forehead had stopped its typical glowing, and simply looked like normal fur. The pup, looking quite pleased with himself, jumped into Alya's arms and fell asleep.

"I think I'm starting to see why the pirate captain was so interested in Ash." Tim said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

"I think I'm starting to see how I killed a deer with one swing." Jak replied, looking at the club in his hand. If it was really that heavy, but made easy to swing with magic, it must pack quite a punch. "I wonder how the mountain troll got it?"

"Could have beat up the previous owner, I suppose. Or could have traded for it. Beasts have their own societies, with cities and markets, they just keep to themselves so we don't know much about it."

Jak tried to imagine a city where the inhabitants were moonwolves and mountain trolls. It didn't make sense to him. He thought again about the club in his hand, and a question arose that he really didn't want to ask.

"Tim, how much will the academy cost?"

"Ah, that's a good question," Tim said uncomfortably, "I haven't really thought about that to be honest. I'm sure it'll work out, let's go see the administration building now to find out."

They left the inn and walked through the streets. Tim asked for directions, and they headed through the markets toward the central square. Jak glanced around, seeing all the things for sale. There was plenty of food, some recognizable from the valley, others completely foreign to Jak. There was also a surprising amount of weapons and armor. Looking around at all the stores and stalls for combat and adventuring, Jak wondered if Makers Town was preparing an army for battle. Then he realized these must all be from the school. Indeed, one seller was loudly proclaiming low-grade flameproof helmets—the reject pile from students who failed. You'll still get burned, but it might leave you merely scarred instead of dead. Selling at a low price of 12 gold pieces, or a special deal of six helmets for the price of five. Jak supposed that a small mercenary force on a budget might appreciate the slight protection.

Walking along, Jak suddenly felt something very strange, yet very familiiar. It was the shadowy presence of his aura. That subtle dulling of color and light, the lengthening of shadows, the pull that sapped magic and life out of the world. It was very weak, like someone was suppressing it, but Jak had spent his whole life in this aura, and recognized immediately. He looked around to see where it was coming from, and saw a man entering a building with a sign out front.

"Zyman's Weapon Shop", Tim read aloud, seeing Jak staring at the sign, "Quality crafts. Rare items. No refunds." Tim looked over at Jak. "Want to go in?" Jak wasn't sure if he wanted to look for trouble, but he also couldn't resist. Was there another person like him? He nodded and they went into the store.

When they got inside, the man Jak had seen wasn't there at all. The only person in the shop was a tall thin man with a long moustache that drooped past his chin. The aura that Jak had felt a moment ago was no longer there. He looked around, but couldn't see anyone.

"Can i help you sir?" The tall man asked Tim, pointedly ignoring Jak and Alya with their simple clothes and grubby appearance.

"Just looking around, seeing what we can find." Tim replied with his winning nobleman smile. Jak wondered if he should ask the shopkeeper about the strange man, but decided against it. Instead he pulled the club out of his bag and placed it on the shop counter.

"I'm looking to sell my club, how much do you think it's worth?" Jak asked. At the sight of the club, the man's countenance changed and suddenly Jak was an esteemed customer in the man's eyes.

"Ah, now where did you get this?" He murmured, half to himself. He picked up the club, feeling it's lightness. He ran his hands over the surface, and knocked on it to hear the resonance. "Made with Alchemy, not a single rune or circuit carved. Must have a strong core, it's a shame we can't open it up to check." He muttered to himself trying to find a seam or crack in the club. "fifty pieces." He said out loud. The tone carried the implication that haggling was not an option.

"Sixty pieces." Tim haggled.

"Done." Before anything further could be said, the shopkeeper quickly deposited a money pouch in Jak's hand, and put the club out of sight in a cupboard. Jak looked at Tim, who shrugged. They walked out, Jak feeling both richer than he'd ever been, and somehow cheated.