Well, despite the frankly disappointing extent of the legendary city of Ad’nanapart, they do have a Pottery Barn. Though admittedly, it’s a literal one. K’ip will be happy that it’s only a literal one, however, because that means that the Pottery Barn rule doesn’t apply – and if he would really have to buy everything he breaks, he’d soon be broke himself, since in this particular world (and other ones of a similar nature *cough*) breaking every piece of pottery in sight is just standard operating procedure. Since the inhabitants are gone, there isn’t anyone around to take umbrage at it, anyway – but, if experience is a guide, the inhabitants of Ad’nanapart wouldn’t have batted an eyelid at the utter destruction of their property, even if they had been present. In worlds like these, pottery isn’t used for cooking or the transportation or storage of goods – they’re only used to hide little gifts of appreciation for wandering adventurers. At least, that’s what the wandering adventurers will tell you.
On the side, this strip also tells us something about the nature of the Paladins of Ferengar – judged by Sir Gianfor’s behavior, they don’t seem to be the crusading Templar type of strict lawmen, but rather the pragmatic type…the type that’s able to turn his back and admire the scenery while some acquaintance of short standing does the wrong thing for the right reasons right behind him. Even if the wrong thing is quite noisy.
But, while K’ip might have found a couple of rupees, or similar, in those pots, he didn’t find the amulet which they were looking for. Not that that was to be expected, really, since it would have been too anticlimactic even for a sub-standard legendary city.
The pottery barn is now a good deal further on its road to become a Pottery Barn, since now there’s only junk left in it. The junk, however, isn’t over-prized yet, so there’s still some way to go.
More on Mon…uh, Thursday.