Tazi thought that the cavern was larger than any she had ever seen. Somewhere in the distance she could hear the steady drip of water. Even in her wonder, she realized that her perceptions were somewhat skewed.
The whole area was distorted by a light mist that covered everything. When she looked down at herself, her semi-nude arms had a faint purple tinge to them. The Gray Caller appeared almost black, with a red cast to its cloak. From where they stood, she could hear the low murmur of many voices, but they were indistinct. There were shadowy forms, but she couldn't make out any people. Tazi knew there was only a fine line between reality and illusion in this place.
'Is this it?' she asked quietly.
The Gray Caller nodded.
Tazi started to pick her way down through the winding stalagmites to the main chamber. She felt strangely apprehensive descending the natural stone staircase, like a young woman making her debut into society when all eyes are upon her. But there was no fanfare and no gawking admirers or even the crueler sort waiting for a slipup.
Slightly disorientated by the muted quality of the place, she could hear her own footsteps, but they seemed very distant. Small rocks gave way under her feet, and she knew the stones fell, but she didn't quite hear the clatter they made. Tiny pinpricks of light twinkled sporadically around her.
Moving through here is like walking alone in a field of snow, she thought.
When Tazi reached what she assumed was the floor, she could just begin to separate different shapes in the fog. Stalagmites and stalactites formed natural partitions, and the pockets they shaped littered the huge grotto. Tazi could see small groups of figures, made hazy by the halo of candlelight in each that she passed.
There was more.
As she approached the 'stalls,' Tazi heard the voices more clearly, but the languages were all different. Having grown up in a city of commerce, she recognized the tone of the various conversations and knew that bargains were being struck, but as she neared a stall close enough to peek in and snatch a glimpse of the occupants, suddenly the language switched to Common and made perfect sense to her. Her eyes grew wide.
'How can that be?' she asked her escort.
The figure walked just a pace behind her down through the cavern as though it was her shadow-and she wasn't the only one with a shade in her wake.
Many folk wandered around with their own Gray Callers trailing after. Tazi watched as one Caller faded into the background after its guest was seated with another trader and played no further role in the bargaining. Tazi suspected that was one of the rules of the marketplace.
'Here there are no barriers, not even language, to stop the trading,' the Caller explained. 'We leave your choice of partners entirely up to you.'
As they walked past a stall, Tazi gasped in awe. A very elderly man with long, white hair, with a moustache and a beard to match, was deep in a serious conversation. It was his companion that had startled her.
The man was talking to a very large, very angry black dragon. Tazi was able to catch bits and pieces of their discussion.
'I don't know how Storm Silverhand convinced me to try and deal with thee,' the older man sputtered, 'but I do have a hard time denying her any request, even one like this.'
The dragon flexed its wings furiously.
Before Tazi could hear the obviously irate dragon's reply, the Gray Caller subtly moved her along. As soon as she was unable to see the two, their words became undecipherable again.
'I would have liked to have heard what a dragon had to say about anything,' she told the Caller a trifle wistfully.
The wraithlike figure was silent. Judging by that response to her curiosity, she figured that unless she was an active participant in the discussion, she wasn't allowed to linger. Nevertheless, it was still hard to resist.
As she progressed deeper into the Dark Bazaar, she found that there were many sights to distract her. Some of the dealers were humans and creatures that she was able to recognize, but not all of them were. Tazi saw several humans arguing over what looked like an infant no more than a few tendays old, and she couldn't resist slowing her pace to see more, regardless of what the Caller might think.
The baby was on the center of the table and at first Tazi thought the child had very strange tattoos all over her body. As she approached the debating consortium, Tazi realized that the baby was not lying on the table so much as she was reclining on it, and it was the tiny creature who was directing the flow of conversation.
A closer inspection revealed that the marks on her body weren't tattoos at all. Every place on her body that should have had a fold of skin had a rosy crack instead. Her entire torso was crisscrossed with the bloody lines. The creature's eyes and lips, as well as her eyelids, were a bright red. Tazi shivered at the odd spectacle.
'Who is able to make all of this possible?' Tazi asked in awe.
'That is not for me to say,' the Gray Caller advised her. 'I and the others simply lead those worthy enough here and maintain the sanctity of the Dark Bazaar.'
'But you must answer to some power,' she continued.
The Gray Caller stopped and raised its hand.
'We are a part of something Faer?n does not even have a name for yet. Save your questions for your own bargain, Thazienne Uskevren,' it warned her, 'and don't waste them on me. I do not deal.'
Chastised, Tazi moved from the Caller's side and walked farther along. Each step she took revealed more and more stalls and intimate nooks. Tazi noticed that the Gray Caller continued to follow her discreetly. She gave up questioning her companion for the time being and realized that she was on her own.
Passing another heated discussion between a distinguished looking man with a receding hairline and a beard with a single gray streak and a woman whose crimson cloak announced her as a Red Wizard of Thay where the only word Tazi heard was 'Waterdeep,' Tazi saw an old woman sitting alone behind a rickety table in another stall.
Tazi thought she looked a little like the fortunetellers that performed at the fairs that occasionally played in Selgaunt. The woman's abrupt movements reminded Tazi of a bird, and she was struck by the familiarity of the gesture.
Where have I seen that before? she thought.
She filed that away for future pondering.
She looks like she's from Calimport, Tazi reasoned, so perhaps I should start here.
'Well,' she said to the Gray Caller, 'she's the only person I could say I even vaguely recognize and connect with.'
'The choice,' the figure replied, 'is always and only yours, lady.'
She nodded curtly to the figure and strode over to join the woman. Tazi realized that she had grossly underestimated the woman's age. The misty effects of the Dark Market had softened the stranger's features. As Tazi approached the woman, she was shocked to see that the stranger was covered with lines, but these were common wrinkles, albeit plentiful, nothing like the crimson lines on the infant she had passed earlier. The woman's hair was mostly white, with only the occasional strand of black, and it hung loosely below her waist. Her skin had a leathery appearance, and Tazi thought it might split open at any moment. Her clothing was decidedly Calishite but was extremely faded and even torn in a few places. The only word that came to Tazi's mind as she sized up the woman was 'weathered.'
At the hushed sound of Tazi's footsteps, the wizened Calishite looked up. Her eyes were a dull brown, but Tazi detected a hint of shrewdness in them.
'May I join you?' Tazi asked.
'For now,' the aged woman answered.
Tazi drew up a chair and looked hopefully at the woman across from her. A few moments passed, and Tazi realized her companion was not going to speak first.
'I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do,' Tazi finally admitted.
'Then perhaps you should leave,' the Calishite suggested in a cracked voice.
Just listening to her speak made Tazi thirsty.
'I've traveled a long way,' Tazi informed her. 'Too long a way to turn around and leave now.'
'Little girl, I don't think you know the meaning of a long way,' the crone cackled.
'Maybe I don't,' she conceded, 'and again, you could be wrong about that.'
The aged Calishite nodded.
