Completely Unremarkable, Only Old

The real vase Shobogon wanted me to authenticate was similar to the fake; except this one had a magical aura to it, not that it itself was magical, just that there was an aura of having magic been done near it or to it. Other than that there wasn't any kind of really interesting feature to it. Construction was kiln fired, but the materials were common, the painting on the outside of some kind of ancient ritual were poorly done and not very informative, and the color was ugly (a light shade of purple). To be honest other than being old I couldn't tell why anyone would want the stupid thing, sure there was the linger magic, but again it didn't make the vase magical, just gave it some lingering character. I'd be hard pressed to sell the stupid thing to even the dumbest of collectors, but Shobogon was more than pleased with my analysis (I edited out the parts that were subjective, because I'm not an idiot).

"So its completely genuine."

"As far as I can tell, I couldn't tell you exactly which group it descended from, the markings suggest at least two, but without language inscribed I can't narrow it down." How do you know all this Trezlan? You ask. Because of my former master, most of my knowledge of ancient anything comes from her, though I admit tapping into her memories is like reading a book full of horrible things. Like for instance the two groups this vase was associated with? Yeah she did horrific things to one to get something from the other, what can I say her memories are a treasure trove of regrets.

"That will do Mr. Lorentino, are you busy?" It seemed a strange question since I had pursued Shobogon from my office without a line outside, but Shobogon wasn't exactly Mr. Social skills.

"Well I do have a lot of pokers in the fire, but if you're willing to offer a retainer I can cool those down." I did not have any pokers in any fire, as if that wasn't bleedingly obvious.

"Done and done, we must hurry there is a flight to catch, pack your things, bring some weapons, meet me at the airfield by no later than five!" He shooed me out of the cluttered space I was in and I went back to my office to pack some things. I brought a pistol, some spare magazines, my swords, and a humorous novel I'd started reading (yes I read, yes people write books in my time). The novel would turn out to be the most important thing I brought, how novel right?