“Quite the sight it was, this settlement of theirs—Havejaat,” continued Amemnon, the vapors rising from the steaming waters and flooding the bathhouse around him with their hissing embrace. “They blend the magical into their daily lives in a way we cannot even fathom, these Sorcerer Kings,” continued the man, sweat beading on his forehead. “Quite the sight, I tell you…”
“Oh, come now, Amemnon. You have to share more of what you witnessed,” spoke a generously fleshed man opposite the merchant. Other men were gathered at the bathing pool, all in various stages of undress, with their collective attention lingering upon Amemnon’s words. “You’ve been gone from our beloved Eubron for months; surely you have more than gawking generalizations to offer…” continued the portly man with a mock plea.
Amemnon’s lip curled with a hint of annoyance, yet he continued regardless—the room growing silent besides the lulling bubbling of water. “Where do I even begin… Take their ships, for example: even when no favorable winds are present, they call upon gales of their own to help them, playful gusts swelling their sails regardless of the weather’s temperament. ‘Tis not only for war they do this; they fish in such a manner too—same goes for trade vessels!”
“Cheap tricks are not for true seafarers,” sneered one of the men present, though he was quickly hushed by the rest.
“It does not end there!” carried on Amemnon. “Odd as Havejaat’s placement is… East of Acheron and courting the Wastelands, it has a steady supply of fresh, clean water from deep within the earth. Miniscule eels—as translucent as glass—populate the waterworks in great schools. They are barely noticeable unless one goes looking for them—you could mistake them for small fish—but fish… feel more solid and do not change shape… I was told they are the product of magic: such unassuming specs, pumping roiling water from deep within the earth. Civic irrigation does the rest of the work, but how unexpected is it to have drinkable water and functioning sewers in a place so recently founded and remote as Havejaat?”
A murmur sounded from the gathered men but quickly died out as the merchant continued.
“Odd masses of sand and jutting rock could be seen among the workers and builders at the outskirts of the settlement—hulking things indeed. Menials would place great chunks of stone inside these amorphous heaps, and out would come neat blocks, ready to be hauled off and feed the construction efforts.”
“I’ve heard this settlement belongs to the Court of Air, yet you mention aberrations beyond the wind-bound. Why is that so?” interrupted a man, a cocked eyebrow framing his question.
“Trade, my friend,” stated Amemnon with a laugh. “Do we not trade with our peers in the other City States, despite our many differences? Money overrules politics many a time; a veteran statesman such as yourself knows this to be true!”
A surge of muffled laughter moved across the room, and Amemnon continued with a sigh of relief.
“Yet it was not what I witnessed within Havejaat that intrigued me most… I was allowed to speak with one of their younger sorcerers that maintained such arcane works, and they spoke of their homeland, where their famed courts reside, and how such wondrous elementals help elevate their way of life.” Amemnon stood up and spread his arms. “Buildings—entire cities—shaped from soil and stone in but a single day. Streams and rivers, bound not by earth and flowing freely across the air. Lighthouses, manned by mystical fire so bright that night never truly arrives under their vigil. Servants and beasts of burden, made from hardened glass and mobile as all living things are… Oh, my dear fellows, so many wondrous things I was told—my heart yearns to visit such places one day!”
“I’ve heard their home continent to be quite large and spacious; to populate it entirely with such magics… Now that would be a sight to behold,” commented one man, and the others agreed.
“They spoke only of their cities,” answered Amemnon with a shrug. “Of the lands outside they spoke of little—in fact, they did not mention them at all. But I would assume so, yes; why contain such gifts?”
“Did you bring any samples with you, Amemnon, or did you simply visit Havejaat for sightseeing?” inquired a well-muscled minotaur, emerging from the deepest part of the pool, moisture dripping from his horns.
“Why of course,” answered the merchant with a crooked grin. “Let us finish up here, and I’ll lead you to my wares!”