As I suspected, our first stop in the Big City to the South is the Purveyor of Pens. This is where the humans and their bachelor friend will spend an interminable amount of time sampling inks, trying out pens they can afford, trying out pens they can’t afford and shouldn’t be messing with, and abandoning Sigyn and me to entertain ourselves while they dither and dawdle. Come on, people! How many scribing tools does one mortal need?
Hmmm. I have discovered something on one counter which, while not pen-related and not actually for sale, is certainly something I could use.
I really, really like this sign.
No, wait! I want this one! When I take over Midgard, I will have this sitting, front and center, on my enormous desk, right near where supplicants must stand.
Right over the trap door into the dungeon…