The rain had ceased and a blanket of gray clouds gathered, covering the entire sky of Nordham. As in the firmament, a thick fog spread over the streets, giving the whole city a dreamlike appearance, as if it had been transformed by the action of some kind of spell, in a new kingdom settled on dreamlike lands. The few people who circulated in those urban areas, did so carrying small hand lamps that emitted faint and vibrant flashes. They gradually lost their strength until they were completely absorbed in the mist.
In Nordham was a district much more remote than any other in the central part of the city. This far-flung suburb was inhabited by little more than a hundred inhabitants, mostly elderly people of sullen demeanor and with tendencies not likely to leave their residences. The buildings that predominated in this part of the city were characterized by being old buildings, mostly demolished and uninhabited, which had been built in general with a marked gothic architecture, which greatly enhanced the gloomy atmosphere of the place.
A man dressed in elegant clothes leaned out of the window of a classic carriage, which was traveling at a considerable speed along the paved streets. He looked uneasily at the dark vertical walls of an imposing building a few meters away from him. They were made of stone masonry, and both the walls and the central door had eccentric ornaments decorating them. He raised his eyes even higher and noticed the sharp spires crowning the towers of those imposing buildings, from which a certain oppressive atmosphere was given off, as if it were the noxious aura of a colossal creature. Between two of these somber and extravagant constructions was a peculiar store that was out of place with the rest. It was the only store to be found in that little-traveled spot in the city. Since most of the stores were located several streets away, where the circulation of people was much more assiduous.
“Here it is, stop!” shouted the man as he banged on the door so that his old coachman could hear him.
“Yes, sir.” nodded the coachman, pulling hard on the reins, having been taken by surprise at his employer's sudden request.
The pair of horses pulling the carriage slowed down a little at a time. And when they managed to stop, they uttered a loud whinny in complaint. The carriage lurched forward for a moment, but regained its usual position, stopping a few yards in front of the indicated spot.
“When will the day come when you learn to stop gently, Norris!” reprimanded the man to his coachman, and opened the door to descend to the street.
“I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again.”
“Bah! Next time I'll give you a caning so you'll learn!” replied the man in the fine suit.
The man with the intelligent look and firm countenance took out a pocket watch from his vest and checked the time. Clicking his tongue, he put the watch away again and walked towards the store, tapping the floor three times with his cane. When he was a few steps from the entrance, he began to feel an uneasy feeling come over him. Although it was not the first time he had visited that part of the city, the mere fact of being forced to enter that dreadful store and having to engage in a conversation with its eccentric owner made his nerves stand on edge.
It was an old building, somewhat narrow and high. The upper part of the roof ended in the shape of a peak, and was covered with slate tiles as well as the small sloping eaves, wich were discolored by the passing of the years.
At the front of the store were two rectangular display windows with glass panes opaque with grime and dust. Through which, only with much effort could one see through them some strange metallic objects and a few small bottles without labels, which appeared to be some kind of potions impossible to identify with the naked eye. Above the shop windows was a rickety dark-colored sign, on which certain peculiar drawings could be seen, such as what appeared to be a distilling ball and two half-moons painted on the outside. The moons were colored in an antagonistic way, and looked in the opposite direction with respect to each other, with horrifying expressions. Inside the ball were also images of a raven, a snake, an octopus and dragon. In addition to other strange symbols included inside, very difficult to recognize. At the top of the sign could be read " Daemontrateia " painted in ornate white letters, somewhat blurred but still legible.
The man turned away from the dirty shop windows and averted his gaze to a bronze lantern that waved in the night breeze. That peculiar lantern was fashioned in the shape of a dragon and was suspended at one end of the store. After observing it in detail for a moment, he tightened his grip on the briefcase he held in his left hand and went to the door, took hold of the handle and turned it carefully, producing a slight creaking sound. The door opened smoothly and he entered, feeling even more nervous than before. Once inside, he sensed the same charged and rarefied air that he had felt every time he had been there. In that gloomy place there were not only dripping candles burning, but there was also a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, supporting strange metal cylinders from which a greenish light emanated. And many more of these objects were scattered throughout the room, dimly illuminating the room with yellowish lights as well.
The man went to the reception desk and, finding no one there, pressed a peculiar claw-shaped metal bell and rang it repeatedly. Willing to wait a moment, he took a quick glance at the various shelves there. Some of these were filled with ancient books, grimoires and foul-smelling scrolls. Others were filled with jars and containers holding different kinds of substances, crystals, strange plants, dissected animal remains, alchemical elements and even human remains such as skulls and bone parts.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he took a book from one of the shelves that was covered with dust and cobwebs. He wiped it with his hands and looked at the leather binding that had some rusted iron trimmings. On the cover of the volume there was no title, only a geometric symbol in the center whose meaning was unknown to him. He opened the book halfway and noticed that it was written with some kind of signs belonging to a language that was completely foreign to his knowledge. In addition to the characters corresponding to that unknown language, there were strange drawings in which the figures of grotesque beings were represented, which seemed to be the product of the imagination of a twisted mind, who; as a manifestation of his madness, had decided to leave testimony of those abominable creatures in that creepy grimoire. He continued to turn the pages despite his displeasure, and noticed a kind of dark red seal located at the bottom. At first, he thought they had been applied with the typical wax used to close correspondences, but upon closer inspection, he realized that those dark marks had been engraved with blood. He closed the book abruptly and put it back in its place, disgusted by the horrible images he had seen.
Then decided to move away from those shelves and approached the showcases that contained a peculiar collection of different objects, which at first glance he found most interesting. Most of them were different types of firearms, ammunition, crossbows, circular metal artifacts, ancient swords and a striking section of silver daggers. Within that collection were some daggers very different from the rest, whose blades seemed to be forged from some kind of sharp stone with strange properties. Some of the daggers had a crystalline blade with a kind of gaseous essence inside. The others on the other hand; of opposite characteristics, seemed to be made of a rock as dark as obsidian.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.