"Perhaps you're interested (Patreon)

in the new Blammington Double Dealer," Lysander continued without missing a beat.  "It punctures!  It ruptures!  It makes shrapnel fly!  With two precision-milled barrels and a reciprocating dual flintlock action, you can say goodbye to your pesky old matchlock once and for all!  No need to carry smoldering matchlights!  No telltale smoke and sizzling!  The stealth weapon for all occasions, with two - count 'em TWO deadly shots for the price of one!"

"I don't know what any of that means," I admitted.  "But it all seems rather Unseelie.  What's wrong with good old bows and swords?"

"These new weapons give you the advantage of inflicting grievous bodily harm from a safe distance," Lysander explained.  "You can blam your enemies to smithereens before they have a chance to reach you!  And besides, they've all got guns, so if you don't you're at a serious disadvantage."

"If I wanted to blam someone to smithereens," I remarked, "I would just use magick.  And how is it any tactical advantage having these contraptions if everyone else is similarly armed?  It seems you'll have only arrived at a stalemate."

"Which is why it's necessary to keep abreast of the latest technology," Lysander declared.  "He who falls behind is dead meat!"

"Do any of your weapons use a form of steamed exploding powder?" I inquired slyly.

"No, what is that?" Lysander replied with visible perplexity.

"It just might be the future of warfare," I stated with a mysterious grin.  "But no, I think for now I don't need to buy any guns.  I have a cult of hairdressers, not an army of war-hardened soldiers.  As far as I know, Oak is the only one with any mercenary experience."

"That Marten girl with the gorgeous curls?" Lysander exclaimed.  "Really?"

"Actually, sir," Vernier interjected, "we could use a few small sidearms for self defense.  Something small and dainty for a femme to carry."

"The O'Daisies Blunderette is just the thing!" Lysander proclaimed.  "It's the lightest gun in their product line, weighing in at a mere six pounds, and can be easily concealed and carried under voluminous flowing skirts.  It packs a punch, with its patented scatter-shot that can clear a room."

"All right, perhaps we'll get some of those," I acquiesced.  "Is five enough to start with?"

"That should suffice for now," Vernier nodded.

"Anything else, you name it," Lysander grinned as he noted the order in a tiny book he pulled from his pocket.  "I can procure more than just weapons, you know.  I've got family connections all over the place.  You want knives, tools, pipeweed, lumber, corn, ants, antcarts, even copies of Jane that aren't out yet in Eire?  My supply network can get it for you."

"I would advise caution, sir," Vernier whispered.  "Involved dealings with his extended family could result in the whole countryside being overrun with monkeys."

"It's not goods I'm interested in," I explained.  "So much as INFORMATION.  Can you tell me about where these weapons are made?  You mentioned O'Daisies.  Is the Duchess still in business?  Where?  How big is her operation?  And -" (suddenly remembering something I had read in one of the scry-tower logbooks) "- have you ever heard of a place called Skeorlesburg or Skeorle Tor?"

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