Chapter 36

Jack Tally

The streets of Mandrake buzzed with life, a symphony of sights, sounds, and smells that could overwhelm the senses of any newcomer. But for Adom, who had grown accustomed to the city's vibrant pulse, it was merely the backdrop to his current mission: the acquisition of a dimensional bag from the famed Boundless Bazaar. Known for its opulence and exclusive clientele, the bazaar was a sanctuary for the extravagant and the extraordinary.

As Adom pushed open the ornate doors of the bazaar, a blast of cool, perfumed air greeted him, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the city outside. The interior was a vast expanse of luxury, with high vaulted ceilings from which hung crystal chandeliers that cast a soft, golden light over the array of goods on display. Each stall and shop within the bazaar was a testament to craftsmanship and exclusivity, offering everything from rare artifacts to bespoke garments.

No sooner had Adom stepped inside than he was approached by a man who seemed to embody the essence of the bazaar itself. Dressed in a tailored suit that whispered of wealth and taste, the man, with a practiced smile, extended a hand in greeting.

"Welcome to the Boundless Bazaar, young master. I am Artwell, at your service. May I inquire what treasure you seek today?"

Adom, not wanting to waste any time, got straight to the point. "Hello Artwell, thanks for the welcome. I'm looking for a dimensional bag, one with substantial capacity."

Artwell's eyes sparkled with interest, or perhaps it was the scent of a potential sale that invigorated him. "Ah, a dimensional bag! You've come to the right place. We have a collection that is the envy of Mandrake. Follow me, please."

Leading Adom through a maze of opulent displays, Artwell chattered about the bazaar's reputation for quality and exclusivity. "The Boundless Bazaar is not merely a market; it's a destination for connoisseurs of the unique and the magnificent."

They arrived at a section dedicated to bags, pouches, and containers of magical nature. The area was lit by soft, enchanted lights that made the items on display shimmer with an otherworldly glow. Artwell began showcasing a variety of bags, each more flamboyant than the last.

"This, young master, is the Celestial Pouch, adorned with starlight silk and moonbeam threads. It's not just a bag; it's a statement," Artwell proclaimed, holding up a pouch that seemed to flicker with its own internal constellations.

Adom raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "The capacity?" he inquired, cutting through the salesman's flourish.

"Ah, a mere trifle of five cubic meters, but what it lacks in space, it makes up for in style," Artwell responded with a wave of his hand, as if the practical aspect was of little consequence.

Next, Artwell presented a bag that seemed to be alive, its surface shifting and changing colors. "The Chameleon Satchel, perfect for those who wish not to stand out. It blends with your attire, becoming virtually invisible."

Adom watched the display, his mind not on the aesthetics but on the utility. "And the capacity?"

"A modest ten cubic meters, but its real charm lies in its ability to remain undetected, even under magical scrutiny."

As Artwell continued to unveil more bags, each with their own peculiar and unnecessary features—like the Artificial Phoenix Feather Tote that could warm your hands in winter, or the Cetus Scale Sling that could filter drinking water—Adom couldn't help but feel a growing sense of frustration. It was clear that Artwell, like many before him, had misjudged Adom's intentions, assuming him to be another affluent young sorcerer seeking more form than function.

The Boundless Bazaar, for all its grandeur and luxury, seemed to cater to a clientele that valued appearance over practicality. The bags, though marvels of magical craftsmanship, were designed more for show than for the adventurer's true needs. Adom couldn't help but think of the absurdity of it all—a bag that could do everything except hold what he needed.

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Finally, Adom's patience wore thin. "Artwell, I appreciate the tour of...fashion accessories, but I need a bag for an adventurer, not a parade. Show me something with real capacity and durability, without the theatrics. Please?"

Artwell, taken aback by Adom's bluntness, quickly masked his surprise with a professional smile. "Of course, young master. My apologies for the oversight. Let me show you something more suited to your needs."

This time, Artwell led Adom to a less ostentatious corner of the bazaar, where the bags on display were less about spectacle and more about substance. Here, finally, were the dimensional bags that adventurers and travelers sought—sturdy, reliable, and with capacities that ranged from the modest to the seemingly boundless.

As Adom's gaze landed on a bag that seemed to whisper tales of adventure and mystery, Artwell, noticing his interest, quickly retrieved it from its pedestal. "Ah, I see the ' Black Hole' Bag has caught your eye. A classic choice, indeed."

Bennu, ever present in Adom's mind, couldn't help but comment on the earlier exchange with Artwell. You lost your temper quite quickly there. Reminds me of a grumpy old man, Bennu teased, a hint of amusement in his mental voice.

Adom, mentally rolling his eyes, retorted, Well, in case you've forgotten, I technically am an old man. Comes with the territory.

The Black Hole Bag, as Artwell began to explain, was a relic from a bygone era, its design favored by adventurers a century prior. "This particular piece was the height of fashion and functionality in its day. Its capacity is a staggering 4500 cubic meters, the greatest among our inventory, and its durability is unmatched."

However, as Artwell delved into the bag's history, his demeanor shifted, a hint of discomfort creeping into his voice. "It's important to note, though, that this bag, while exceptional, carries a certain...historical weight. It was often associated with Jack Tally, a rather controversial figure in the realm of sorcery."

Bennu's curiosity was piqued, and he prodded Adom for more information. Who's Jack Tally? I can't see it in your memories. And what's with the bag?

Adom, silently communicating with Bennu, shared the darker chapters of the bag's legacy. Jack Tally was a sorcerer known for his...unorthodox methods. He dabbled in forbidden magic, conducting experiments that were, frankly, horrific. His victims' remains were often found in bags identical to this one, as well as his spell books. And what did we say about the mental boundaries? No mind reading without asking first, okay?

As Bennu protested, Artwell, attempting to steer the conversation back to the bag's merits, glossed over the more macabre aspects of its history. "Despite its past, the Black Hole Bag remains a marvel of magical engineering. Its spatial expansion capabilities are truly a wonder to behold."

Bennu, ever the inquisitive spirit, delved deeper. Hey, what became of Tally's experiments?

Adom explained, Ironically, his research laid the groundwork for a mass destruction spell that played a crucial role in killing the Black Dragon two decades from now. It hasn't happened yet, but his contributions, while stemming from dark origins, ended up serving a greater good. At least for a time. After the fall of the Dragon, the spell was later used by other nations to wage even more wars, that is what led to the great war.

Artwell, clearly uneasy discussing the bag's infamous former owner, tried to highlight its positive attributes. "It's also incredibly resilient and has a variety of enchantments for weight reduction and easy access. Truly, a piece ahead of its time."

Throughout the conversation, Adom couldn't help but be amused by Artwell's attempts to sell the bag while tiptoeing around its grim past. The contrast between the bag's practical virtues and its dark history was stark, and yet, it held a certain appeal.

Bennu, reflecting on the story, remarked, Life is strange, isn't it? Tally's spell saves the day against the Black Dragon, only to turn around and kick off the great war. It's like giving someone a pat on the back, then they turn it into a slap in the face. Who knew heroics could flip to havoc so fast?

Adom agreed, Yeah. Life's got a twisted sense of humor.

As Artwell continued his pitch, emphasizing the bag's timeless design and exceptional features, Adom had already made his decision. The Black Hole Bag, with its vast capacity and robust make, was ideal for his needs.

With 'The Black Hole' now in his possession, Adom handed over 9 thousand cauris, a sum that felt almost trivial given the bag's immense capacity and potential. The relatively low price was a clear reflection of the market's aversion to its dark past, but to Adom, it felt like an unexpected boon. "A stroke of luck, indeed," he mused to himself, adjusting the bag's strap over his shoulder. It was lighter than he expected, a testament to the enchantments woven into its fabric.

As Adom stepped out of the Boundless Bazaar, the weight of his new purchase on his back, Bennu's voice chimed in his mind, curious about their next destination. "So, where to now? Are you coming back?"

Adom, already plotting his next move, responded with a determined tone. "Not yet, I'm heading to the smithy. It's time to gear up properly. A good set of armor, a reliable gun or two, and a sturdy shield should be on the list."