A cool wind blew through the alleyways of Baltimare, ruffling and billowing the coats of pedestrians. Between the great businesses of the city, smaller ones located themselves down these back alleys. One particular shop looked rather out of place, the dust and grime clear doors between scattered litter. It was a small place, the door indented into the wall and a sign swaying back and forth betraying it’s location. ‘Ussmak’s Curiosities’ was painted upon the wood and metal fixture, the hinge creaking in the breeze. Would be shoppers entering would find themselves in a word of strange artefacts, odd baubles and a variety of undocumented items with a bizzare array of effects.
Behind the desk, the owner stood, lightly drumming his claws upon the grooved, pitted counter. Ussmak was an odd individual. Standing head and shoulders above the average mare, his eyes jolting this way and that as well as the apparent lack of wings his species was known for, every part of his scaled green hide oozed with the air of uncertainty. Indeed, this wasn’t helped by his mannerisms and speaking skills, which tended to fly over the head of most creatures he talked to.
In short, he was the perfect clerk for a purveyor of everything enchanted and enchanting. Clientele was sparse, but he often made a good amount of money from the collector or unwilling tourist that happened to stumble upon his shop. But then there were those who asked him for very, odd items. Pieces which would be rather questionable in modern Equestria that had effects that were very unique, often centred around a client’s particular fascination or dare he say, fetish.
Such was the case today, as he waited for a particular buyer to come and collect his order and pay him the rest for sourcing the pieces. When Ussmak had initially received the commission, he couldn’t believe the name attached. And the items desired, well… they would have to find that out themselves.
A small tinkling of a bell emanated from the door, Ussmaks eyes slicking up, a small smile gracing his lips. “Ah, so good to see you, Mister Spike.” Through the open frame, the form of a dragon, a little smaller than himself came padding through. A small gust of wind helped to dissipate the inherent stuffy, leathery odor of the establishment, as the drake shut the door.
“You err… don’t have to call me that.” Spike replied, making his way over to the counter, skirting around displays and shelving. In his claw, a small fabric bag was clutched, a slight metallic jingling betraying the contents.
“But I insssssist Mister Spike. Ussmak treats every customer well, they deserve to be given respect, no?” A throaty chuckle rose up, making his already snake like voice seem even more so, Spike returning a nervous one in kind. “But yessss, I have your items here, ready to go.” Turning around, he grabbed a velvet drawstring bag from amongst a group of other mixed pieces and trinkets. Placing it in front of the purple drake, the pouch Spike had been holding was placed next to it, the two trading bags.
Hefting it in his claws, Ussmak gave a satisfied smile. “Yessss, this will do nicely.”
“Are you certain these will work?” Spike questioned, lifting one of the pieces out. It was a gem, slightly larger than a clenched fist. Turning it over, he inspected it, noting how the purple and blue colouring seemed to swirl around, almost like it was glass filled with a very thick, viscous substance. At his words, Ussmak gave an almost offended look, pushing the pouch into a dusty, grimy till, springs creaking as he forced it in.
“You doubt Ussmak’s work? I asssssure you, Master Spike, that every one of my wares is of the highest quality, no customer has returned for a refund.”
“Yet” Spike muttered under his breath, still unsure about the legitimacy of his purchase. Then again, he hadn’t heard of anyone saying that their purchases were nothing more than overpriced crap. Maybe their claims had some merit to them. “Well, thanks for that I guess.”
“Think nothing of it. I am here to make sure all Ussmak’s customers are able to carry out their fantasies to a satisfactory level.” Nodding at Spike, the purple dragon headed for the door, and with another jingle of the doorbell, he left the store. Ussmak, alone again, sat a back onto a creaking chair, quaffing a small glass of water. “Ussmak wonders who Master Spike is going to use those crystals on? Perhaps a practical joke, or perhaps on a friend.” Shrugging, he scampered over to the door, making sure to lock it shut. It was late, after all, and he would have customers again some other time, satisfied in their purchases as they always were.