A Little Shopping

[dairninasher]

Time: 11:09 AM
Date: December 17, 2008
Place: At the Fish Seller Booth
Status: Open to those who may enter the Troll market


"FEEEEEEEEEEEEESH! Mostly fresh feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesh!"


Asher looked over at the pile of fish heads and his stomach growled. After he left the troll market he would have to go to a market and buy some food. Maybe he would see if the fish seller would sell him the heads so he could put some on his compost pile. He closed his eyes thinking about the fresh earth and his roots sinking into it slowly. He had to jerk himself out of his daydream and focus on the task at hand.

He knew now where The Silverlance was. It was just getting into the court he was having issues with. He figured it would be easier once The Silverlance made the call to arms. He currently sat in his human form waiting for the smithy to finish. It had been a long while since Asher had his hammer. He had buried it in the lands of his father tree and when he had dug it up, it was in need of repair. It was still a good weapon, but it didn’t look good. A good dwarf hammer is almost unbreakable, it just needed to be cleaned and Asher did not have the tools for that.

A group of people in long cloaks passed him and they nodded to him. Fellow dryads. He nodded back. They knew each other to be of tree even in their different forms. His form was of a good looking 30 something male with Irish or Scottish features. His hair was short and black, he had intricate tattoos covering his body but they were covered by his severe clothing choice. Black slacks and shined black shoes. A crisp white shirt under a long black duster coat. In the human world, he had been stopped by a group of teenage girls and asked where he got his cool Professor Snape costume. He only stared at them blankly.

He asked one of the street urchins that befriended him when he came to the country and she told him about Harry Potter. He had purchased the books and read them at his slow pace, enjoying them. They weren’t as enjoyable as cartoons. He loved cartoons, but it passed the time when he was out and about. He carried a book with him everywhere. He looked at the book down in his lap, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. He hoped this Lord Voldemort killed this Harry Potter. The child annoyed him. He pursed his lips and went back to reading until he knew it was time to receive his weapon.

[dairninasher]

His lips moved silently as he read. It had been a couple more hours since thinking about anything besides what he was reading when he realized what time it was. He checked the small watch on his wrist. It was a woman's watch, one he had taken during his time on the streets on new York. He didn't care, it was covered by his sleeves. He wasn't one for fashion. He closed his book after dog earring the page he was on and stood. He moved a little stiffly through the crowd, trying not to brush people in the crowd.

The smithy was in a small corner, the majority of the corner taken up by a large furnace. The long bearded man who worked at the forge brought his hammer down upon a long piece of metal, showering sparks over the three, two-headed little beasts that hopped up and down on a pair of large bellows that stoked the fires. Asher stood there, well away from the fires until the dwarf looked up and nodded. He hopped off his stool, disappearing behind the forge. He came around carrying Asher's hammer.

Asher smiled as he reached down and wrapped his hand around the shaft. It was like greeting an old friend. The dirty weapon he had carried from his father's lands was just an acquaintance. The whole of the hammer looked to be copper inlaid with silver symbols and swirls, the same that covered his own body. The head of the hammer was doubled, very artful, shaped to look like a tree trunk. The shafts of the hammer was short, but it was retractable, much like Prince Nuada's spear was. The end of the hammer was capped with the small face the forest god.

"You have done very well." Asher said in his rumbling voice. He held the weapon out and rotated his wrist to test the balance. The dwarf beamed, "Thank you, son. It was an honor to work on such a weapon. It just seemed to want to come clean."

"It yearns to be used again." Asher stated simple. He fished payment for the dwarf, adding extra for a job well done. He removed the bag he had been carrying the hammer around in and covered it. He was very hungry now. He stopped by the fishmonger to haggle for some fish heads. He was in luck. He was able to buy a dozen fish heads for the price of a whole fish. He couldn't wait ti stir them into the compost he had started to make in the room he called home, for now.

[dairninasher]

Whistling happily, axe and bag of fishheads in his hands, he started to make is way out of the Troll market. Good thing too. It was starting to get crowded. Happy Hour maybe? Asher disliked the small of beer. He made is way into New York, out into the human world. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of metal and concrete.

A few blocks up, he stopped into a corner store to look at their variety of plant food. He usually went for Miracle- Gro. He looked at all the others, the small selection that they offered and frowned. He had once been to a Wal-Mart. They had a great selection of food. Human and plant. But his favorite place was Home Depot. He stood for a moment, thinking about how great Home Depot was, wishing there was one close to where he was. He disliked using the metal transportation of the city, he usually walked everywhere.

He picked a box of Miracle-Gro and went to pay. He picked up a couple apples and bananas to throw into the compost. It didn't take him long to get home. He lived in a run down part of the city. He had asked a new friend of his to glamour the owner of the building so he could live in it. Outside it looked like a normal run down apartment building. Inside was like a jungle. He had laid down roots as it were, and planted many different kinds of trees and foliage in the soil of the ripped up floor.

He kept his compost heap in a back room. The room used to be an apartment but now was filled with all kinds of waste. The smell was no different then the smell around the neighborhood, so no one noticed. he just had to be careful about the gas build up. He turned the massive mound several times a day. He had removed the ceiling of the apartment and the floor of the one above it.

He chuckled the fruit and fish into the pile and left the room to go upstairs to where he lived. He had simple rooms, almost no furniture, since the majority of his time was spent as a tree. The rooms he occupied were right above his compost pile. He removed his clothing very carefully and hung them up. He did not wish to damage his suit of clothing. He put it and his shoes into a closet with the bag that held his hammer and shut the door. he padded naked to the kitchen, mixing up a large mug of plant food. He sipped it as he walked to the room with no floor.

There was a floor of sorts, just enough to hold a shelf and a TV with a DVD player. He put in a DVD of his favorite Chuck Jones cartoons and pressed play. As the DVD ran, he drank his dinner up and set the ceramic mug aside. At this time, he changed DVDs to another Chuck Jones show of shorts. He went to the hole and jumps down into the muck of compost.

Slowly, he took to his tree form. His roots sank slowly into the earth and his branches grew up and up and up. He settled into the ground and settled his branches as comfortably as he could. The TV played cartoons and he watched them until he fell asleep.