The Orb In the Sword Chapter: 1 Copyright 1998
	------------------------------- By Ben Christie.
					All Rights Reserved.

	The sky was clear and cloudless for miles to see and
the local venders were in the street gathering crowds and
manying were crying out things, such as, "Jewelry from
afar!", "Food to fill one's hunger!" and "Deserts herbs to
cure anything!". It was a typical day in the kingdom's
market place filled with it's citizens, though many of the
people found there were likely to have traveled from
distance places to shop amongst the Grand Market of
Miayt. Few people knew not of the Grand Market and word of
it had spread to the four corners of the earth. This drew in
mixed crowds from the rottweilier's of Cyrottweil to the
Vantorities of eastern Birrox. The ruling council of Miayt
was happy with the attraction of the Grand Market, but a
simple outburst amongst the tourists could spell disaster in
the streets. Thus, all exits from the market were guarded
and many of the Miayt guards patrolled the crowd.
	Graykit looked up at the sun. The incredible heat
beat down upon his head and he wiped the sweat from his
brow. He listened unenthusiastically to the vender in front
of him spew meaningless sentences from his mouth. A small
crowd had gathered around the merchant's stand.
	"Come on young one. Purchase the finest quality
blades in the land! Made from only the best in metals," he
boasted.
	Graykit plucked one of the daggers from the table's
assortment of weapons and gripped the blade firmly before
pushing down on the steel. The dagger bent in his hands. He
frowned, tossing the weapon back to the vender and moved
on.
	Graykit was intelligent enough to know a scam
when he saw one. Many years before he'd been a part of the
Grand Market's assortment of venders and merchants
pulling off scams of his own. No one could disbelieve in
him, his face alone masking the lies and conveying the truth
that the customer wanted. Who wouldn't believe a bright
eyed, beige furred, slender, young fox like himself. He had
the face of a child and the mind of a thief. But that was long
ago for him and a memory worth forgetting.
	The streets were packed shoulder to shoulder.
Graykit pushed his way through the mobs of Miayt city and
made way for the Grand Market's towering gateway. He'd
found nothing worth his money today and would have to
return back to camp empty handed. Without reason, he was
slammed against the city wall by an unknown gray dog. He
growled at the canine, but the hound had merged with the
crowd before anything could be done. Graykit felt alone in
the market place.
	Something was different though. He felt strange,
lighter then usual. His pouch and dagger were both gone.
Graykit promptly scanned the ground for any signs of the
sack, but it was lost, only he knew where. The dirty gray
furred mongrel that knocked into him moments ago had
made off with his possessions. He jumped on top of a
nearby barrel and looked out over the horde of people.
There were no signs of the creature. He sighed realizing it
was hopeless and that his fifty coins in gold and his weapon
were gone.
	A glimmer of light caught his eye. From across the
mobs of buyers and thieves, a dark, cloaked merchant held
out a mighty broad sword to a potential buyer. Graykit
knew he had no money in which to buy the sword and that it
was likely to be another sham, yet for some unusual and
bizarre reason, he was drawn to the sword.
	He pushed his way through the crowd and towards
the merchant's booth, coming to rest just before it. The
wooden stand was rotten and old, made of a dark brown
wood and appearing as though it would collapse to the floor
at any given moment. Above it, held up by two infirm posts
was a dirty, moss covered sign reading 'Weapons'. The
merchant mirrored the stand. From behind the hood of his
cloak was the withered face of a frail, old fox. He looked as
though time had been bad to him. Bags hung under his eyes
and his red fur had turned a cheerless brown. Two black
ears poked through his hood, each tipped with gray. His
movements were slow and listless. Among his weak, ancient
body the only sign that time had not been misfortunate to
him was his eyes. Hooded by his brow, dark blue eyes
starred out of an elderly face like light through fog. They
watched the buyer closely and moved rapidly, following the
hands of the dog before him. Soon the dog placed the sword
back on the stand and moved off to become another faceless
person in the Grand Market crowd.
	Graykit took the canine's position at the stand and
looked over the mighty weapon before him. He gripped it in
both hands and felt the weight of the blade. It was of normal
mass for a sword of this magnitude. The sword's handle was
a dark black beneath a curved gold guard. It's blade was
dented and spotted with rust, unable to reflect Graykit's
face. Most interesting of all was the unpolluted black orb
gripped by a bird's talons at the base of the handle. It was
pure and absolute, blacker then the handle or the cloak of
the merchant, as if made of night itself. Strangely, it
reflected the booth, the sign, the city of Miayt and the blue
sky above, yet Graykit's face was nowhere in the image.
	The merchant leaned in close to Graykit and spoke
in a quiet, raspy voice. "It's yours for the proper price."
	Graykit lifted his head up and at the face inside the
cloak. Suddenly the old canine's face changed and he ripped
the sword from Graykit's hands, nearly drawing blood.
	"I'm sorry," he said. "It's not for sale." The cloaked
dog proceeded to drop the sword into a wooden chest
behind himself and finish it off by securing it with an iron
lock.
	Graykit was stunned by the old dog's manner. "Why
can I not buy that sword?"
	The gray haired fox turned away from Graykit and
cried out into the crowds. "Daggers, swords and spears to
kill an army with!"
	"Why did you seal the sword in that chest?" Graykit
asked.
	"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied
and cried into the crowds again. "Come! Feast your eyes on
the greatest weapons to ever enter the Grand Market!"
	Graykit grabbed the fox's cloak and pulled him
close. "Listen old hound," he said in a demanding voice.
"What's so special about that sword that you couldn't let me
buy it."
	"You don't want to get involved with that sword,"
the fox said. Graykit pulled the aged dog closer to his face
and growled. The cloaked figure looked deep into Graykit's
eyes and sighed, seeing that he would be unable to convince
Graykit into leave his booth. "Very well," he uttered,
Graykit releasing him from his grip. "If the sword interests
you so much then it would be wise to talk about such things
away from these crowded streets." The canine glanced
around, then moved close to Graykit's ears. "Be here
tonight when the Grand Market it closed."
	"Why?" Graykit asked, puzzled by the wintry fox's
request.
	The merchant moved back from Graykit. "Be the
first to own a weapon worth more then your life!" the
cloaked fox cried.
	"Why?" Graykit asked again, louder this time.
	An immense and robust tiger emerged from the
crowds. "Show me such weapons and I will buy them," he
said in a booming, deep voice.
	"Look at this," the fox said, bringing forth a gold
hilted dagger from under his booth. "This is made from pure
silver and gold. A weapon like this is hard to come by."
	Graykit leaned over the stand. "Why should I meet
you again?"
	"I'm here, dog. Bugger off," the hale tiger said.
	"I have business with this fox," Graykit replied.
	The tiger turned to Graykit and pushed him back
from the fox's booth. The crowd behind them ceased to
move and watched excitedly at the fight escalating before
them. The merchant, not amused by the two, looked away.
Graykit hadn't noticed the size of the tiger until now. His
chest was solidly built and looked as though it could deflect
a sword's blow easily. His shoulder's were broad and his
legs were the size of Graykit's combined. Two feet taller, he
towered over Graykit. Attached to his belt was a hefty
broadsword. "Bugger off!" the tiger said again, his voice
blaring and his hand ready to unsheath his sword.
	Graykit reached for his dagger when he suddenly
realized that he no longer had it. The tables turned, Graykit
put his hands up to show he meant no harm and backed
away. The tiger stood down and looked back at the old
merchant. The street around Graykit returned to normal and
he moved into the crowd and towards the Grand Merchant's
gateway.