The Pale Page
Est. 2025 • Human Cleric
The Pale Page
The Pale Page is a narrow, two-story shop wedged between an undertaker's yard and a narrow alley that smells faintly of incense and ozone. Shelves lean inward a...
Shopkeeper
Malen Voss, a Human Cleric (Lvl 8)
Keeper's Species
Human
Shop Inventory
(17)A small phial of clear, slightly rosy liquid. Warm to the touch and smells faintly of iron.
A heavier glass vial with a deep crimson liquid. Often purchased by adventurers after a tough outing.
A heavy black-stoppered phial filled with a silver-foamed liquid. Rare and prized among those who face death often.
A brittle parchment sealed with black wax and stamped with a pale skull motif.
Thicker vellum bound with a strip of bone, the script inside smells faintly of incense and grave soil.
A thin volume titled 'Funerary Rites of Candlehearth' with annotations in the margins.
A blank spellbook bound in black leather and lined with silver leaf on the edges.
A raven-feather quill whose tip never seems to dull. The ink it draws is a deeper black than ordinary ink.
A small corked vial containing pale, fine powder. The label reads 'Powdered Bone - ounce'.
A silk-wrapped bundle of black candles with thin silver veins. They smell of ash and myrrh.
A heavy ledger whose cover is studded with tiny bone plates. Ink drawn on its pages gleams faintly.
A tiny velvet pouch with five white dice carved from bone. They click with a sound like fingernails on a tombstone.
A small black-covered volume that leaves a faint residue of cold on your fingertips when opened.
A folded map with notes in the margins, edges smudged with ash from many hands.
A dark wand rimed with dull silver. It hums faintly when near living flesh.
A longsword with a hilt wrapped in ash-grey leather. The blade seems to drink in light.
A charcoal cloak with a collar embroidered in pale thread. It always seems slightly cool to the touch.
Malen Voss
Shop Atmosphere
“The Pale Page is a narrow, two-story shop wedged between an undertaker's yard and a narrow alley that smells faintly of incense and ozone. Shelves lean inward as if bowed under the weight of grief. Candles burn in shallow stone basins along the aisles and their light makes the gilt lettering on the spines flicker like eyes. The owner arranges books by theme and funeral rite rather than author and will quietly lock the shop door and close the shutters a half hour before sunset to perform a private rite for any recently arrived corpse or relic. The shopkeeper is soft spoken and unnerving in the way of someone who spends more time listening than speaking. He keeps a ledger of names and a small reliquary bound to the shop that the regulars treat with reverence. Customers often leave with a solemn nod and a faint scent of myrrh lingering in their coat.”
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