I was speaking to the wrapped up sword I was carting around town, I'd already tried the other collections of antiques and museums that I could think of, and none of them had had any information on this "Mycherian Empire" thing. Basically, the only reason I was doing this was because it was the only way to get the sword to shut up. And, admittedly, I was a little bit curious, too. If it was this hard to find anything about it, this "empire" had to be either really long ago, or very unremarkable. Or made up, possibly. How do you tell if an intelligent inanimate object has gotten deranged? It's not like they drool and mutter or anything.

Anyway, that's why I had spent the day looking at old beat up statues and stuff, while lugging around the sword on my back. And now, hopefully, I could be done with that for the day soon. This museum was one of the nice ones, kept up by a trust or foundation or something, set up by some noble or merchant or somebody as a sort of posthumous public relations gig. I was wearing some fancy clothes I kept for such purposes, and a bunch of gaudy jewelry, mostly fake, enough to make me look like one of the prosperous merchants who constantly aspire to be part of the aristocracy. Not people I particularly cared for, but it would fit with my story. I stuck the wrapped sword under my arm and went over to the desk.

I jumped up on a small stool by the desk, then rapped on the desk. "You there! Tell the curator I must see him at once!" I cried in the attendant's face.

I overrode him as he tried to protest to the curator's stature, and business, and how he could not possibly see anyone. "Tut tut! Don't give me any of that malarkey, he probably has a woman up there now with him, eh? Nothing all that all-fired important that he can't spare a few minutes of his time for an important visitor with a rare artifact. Now run along and tell him, eh?"

I have to admit, I do enjoy playing the arrogant bastard sometimes, it's a nice change compared to how they'd normally look at me and like beating them at their own game. Don't like when people try to pull things like it on me, which is also part of why it's fun. The clerk tried to emphasize how busy the curator was, and if I set up an appointment and came back later, it could of course all be worked out for such an important visitor. "No time for that I'm afraid, chap! I'm only in this town for the one day, and heard that this you chaps were knowledgeable. If I heard wrong and you're too busy to deal with interesting relics, I can always try your friends down the street."

This was a bit of a lie, I hadn't had any luck at the others, the one I'd actually been able to talk to didn't know anything and the religious types are a lot harder to browbeat, at least this specific way, so they weren't any help. But he didn't know that. I could see this track was having the desired effect, he could easily imagine his boss' reaction if I really did have something rare, and one of the others got it first. Warring with that was how his boss would react if it turned out to be a false lead. Finally, he said, "I'm afraid the curator is not here. However, you can speak to one of the scholars, who know a great deal about antiquities. Please wait here."

"If you want to get anything done around here, you have to complain until you're blue in the face," I muttered as he sent a page off to fetch the aforementioned scholar.

The page returned quickly, and led me behind the desk and through a locked door, finally to a study room, where he left me. I took advantage of the chance to look around the room. There was the obligatory desk in front of me, with various sheets of parchment scattered all over, boxes, dirt encrusted objects, and other types of things you expect to find on a scholar's desk. The room itself was fairly small, but a smaller door opened off the back, behind the desk. There was another table in the corner, made of sturdy wood and covered with scratches and dirt and antiquities in various stages of restoration. I took a quick look over them, but none looked at all valuable, besides, he probably knew where each was and would notice if any were missing.

"Where is this scholar?" hissed the sword, muffled under the wrappings.

"Quiet, and act non-magical," I whispered back.

Other than the tables I'd seen, the room was empty. I even peeked under the desk. Nobody there. I listened and thought I heard some mumbling and then the sound of metal on metal. It came from behind the half-open door in the back. Getting back into character, I pushed the door open sharply. "Is somebody back here, or were they just trying to get rid of me? Hello?"

The room beyond was large, and dark, windowless, and full of looming shelves. There was a single light ahead of me; over another scuffed up worktable. Silhouetted by the light was a shape that was presumably the scholar, who'd started when I pushed the door open and was now spinning around on the stool to face the door. "Who's there?" the scholar asked.

"I am the merchant Kaldor. I'm looking for a scholar who knows about old artifacts. Would that be you?"

"What? Oh, yes, that's right, the page mentioned you. Step out into the office, the light is better. I'll be with you in a moment."

I thought about saying something imperious about my valuable time, but decided I'd be better off by not alienating the scholar. So I went back out to the office, and dragged the stool from the worktable over in front of the desk, then sat on it and waited. True to his word, it hadn't been very long at all before the scholar came back out from the back room. The scholar was somewhere in the mid five foot range, average for a badger, but hunched over usually so he seemed shorter. He worse a coat with many large pockets sewn onto it, most bulging, probably with tools and things he was investigating, as far as I could tell. In normal clothes, you probably wouldn't be able to tell him from any other badger on the street. Somehow, I doubted he'd care about normal clothes, though.

He sat in his chair and leaned on the desk. He looked down, moved some papers out of the way, then sighed a little to himself and spoke. "So, what do you need to know?"

I rattled some coins in my pocket. "I can pay." He sighed again.

I pulled the sword out from under my arm and thunked it on the desk, then unwrapped it. "What can you tell me about this, and some place called 'Mycheria?'"