This started out as a school project, and, over the course of two years, was expanded into what it is now.
If one would find themselves in the Market, they would be bombarded with the sound of Old English, calling "Fresh fish, tuppence a pound!’ shouting "Jewelry fit for Lord Robert John himself, 20 shillings!" The naggy command from over-protective mothers, "Be back by supper!", and the drone of prayer as holy folk walked, their chants filling the air, as did the smells of unwashed bodies, livestock, rotting meat, varying herbs, wood smoke, meat pies of questionable contents, and the foul smell of
concoctions made by the apothecary. The gray cobbled streets were filled with mud, garbage, and chamber pots. The yellow thatch on the roof-tops was always either dried stiff or sopping wet from the winter rains. White chalk lines were marked on the ground, so peddlers, selling the most fragrant perfumes of Arabia, the brightest bolts of silk from China, and the sweetest sugar, imported directly from India (though more often then not, for they were nothing but convincing fakes by con-men.) Permanent shops were placed around the outer edges of the Market, usually selling baked goods, like bread, and putrid, vile herbal potions.
There were many roads leading to and from the Market, and it was in one of the smaller, out of the way alleys, that lay Maledetto, a sword of infinite power, cursed by the heathen gods to doom any mortal that held it. This curse granted Maledetto a consciousness, and great psychic gifts, and allowe it’s wielder to be invinsible. It came at a terrible price though. Maledetto would feed upon you, sucking your very essense, until there is nothing left, but a husk. Side-effects were the darkening, and loss, of hair, the reddining of the eyes, and the whitening of skin.
Maledetto was a piece of art. It had a broad sword blade on a slim katana hilt, with purple-burgandy gems along the hilt. The blade was part steel and part granite, pushing against itself, almost, but not quite stable.
The previous owner had run a tavern called"The Prancing Pony", and was a quiet, amiable man, the kind that Maledetto feasted upon.