As I wandered through one of the districts near the market I griped about the lack of a mail system, or of a written language. At some point someone might have made a written system, but if they had, I'd yet to find it. It would make things so much easier to do, so very much easier, but most people didn't seem bothered.

I could make my own written language, but I feared it would go the same way as farming. People would understand it, but most wouldn't care, after all, if you're memory was perfect why would you need to write things down? Perhaps if I gained enough notoriety I could press the issue, but for now I just had to stew.

There were problems like I had now, but some of those came down to inexperience, at least in the minds of the common people. I was looking for a particular merchant, Orran, but I was unsure of exactly where he lived. There weren't addresses after all, and I'd never been to his house, so trying to find him was a bit of a pain. Sure, next time it would be easy to do, but the first it was taking me a fair bit of the day.

Eventually I did find someone who was happy to lead me to his home. The cost of a few of the smaller shell beads that everyone used was insignificant in comparison to the amount of time it would save me, and shortly I found myself before his place.

The house itself was a rather normal affair. There were two stories, the bottom the normal stone construction of the area while the top was, like mine, formed out of a living tree, formed by magic into living quarters. There were of course some stark differences between our homes. Unlike my house Orran's was formed with several others around a little central square, almost like a cul de sac, the common area opening onto the street.

My approach was noticed by more than one person, with several peeking, trying to find out what I was doing as I walked up to the door. There was of course no news here, so gossip was always popular, and being that I was clearly someone they didn't know...

Before I even reached the door proper to call out a woman appeared there. She was frozen at the same age we all seemed to end up at, with mousy brown hair pulled back over her ears and uncompromising eyes. Behind her, with a head barely reaching her waist was a child holding onto her leg, who I assumed was her mother.

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“Do you need something?” she asked rather shortly.

“Yes, I'm looking for a traveling merchant, Orran?” I replied.

“He's not here right now, what do you need?” Again, she seemed none, to pleased to be talking to me

“A message delivered, to one of the villages on his normal route. Any idea when he'll be back?” I asked.

“No, who should I tell him came by?” she finally asked with a huff.

I gave her my name, and the general area where I lived, but with her almost outright hostility I gave that about a fifty-fifty chance of ever making it to Orran. Hopefully his wife wasn't like that all the time, but if she was it would easily explain why my contact often went traveling.

Briefly I entertained the idea of finding another traveling merchant or runner to deliver my message, but opted against it. Things were probably fine, so there was no need to rush. My family knew where I was anyway, so if they needed me they could probably find some way to contact me.

There were still a few projects I wanted to work on before going to bed, so I headed home, hoping that things would work out.

Later that night

“You sure this is the place?” one of the men asked as they hid in the shadows of an alley, all looking at a particular building.

“Yeah, one of my cousins listened to him describe it in the merchant district the earlier today, and you should have seen the smoke coming off the building when I stopped by earlier, definitely the place,” their leader confirmed, looking at his two assistants.

“Rumors are the guy's a weirdo, but he's got power. Sure this is a good idea?”

“Listen, that guy works copper bud, all those pieces in the market, that's him. I also checked around, and it's just him. We do this, we can all buy anything we want, no problem,” the leader answered.

“And if he finds us?” the third questioned.

“Three against one, and while surprised? We do what we have to,” the leader smiled.

As one the three men slipped to the side and through a small window. It was latched shut, but long ago had they worked out how to bypass the standard closures. The smallest of the three parked at a sound as they opened it.

“What was that?” he asked.

“What?” the leader whispered back.

“A small tinging, like a bird or something, but not one I know.”

“Probably copying something it heard, now be quiet, we don't want to wake this bastard.” That made enough sense, as some birds did indeed copy any noise they heard, at times even learning a word or two.

They slipped through the bottom floors, looking here and there, until they finally came to the room they assumed was their target. One wall had several forges constructed against it, while nearby there a few places for mounting anvils. Stones and benches were everywhere, but the most valuable thing in the room was a few clay bowls.

“Where's the copper?” one of the men asked their boss.

“Fuck, he must have hidden it. Pull everything out,” the leader instructed, sometimes men did this, hiding their valuables. If worst came to worst they could always beat the information out of the owner. That would be harder since he could use magic, and didn't have any hostages handily laying around, but it could still work.

No sooner had he spoken then a small ball of light flitted into the room. The thieves barely had time to register what was going on before it violently exploded into a riot of color and sound, causing each to grab their ears, or cover their eyes.