<span style="font-family: 'Georgia'">Though his shop in New Orleans had been open for business since the days of the Carter Administration, very few were privy to its true nature. From its exterior, <i>Obscura</i> looked not unlike so many other shops that lined the various nooks and crannies of the French Quarter. An eerie-looking facade with peeling green shutters spread wide from dusty glass windowpanes, the entryway framed by a set of wooden double doors that could no doubt have used a proper coat of lacquer. Inside was a nest of organized chaos, the ceilings draped cobwebs strung from corner to corner in a manner akin to Christmas lights.<br/>
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No one came into a curio shop for its neatness, particularly not in Louisiana. This location more than most others catered largely to tourists, all of whom kept their eyes peeled for anything that might remind them of the Big Easy's abundance of cemetery and voodoo tours, though the occasional collector would wander in. Even more rare were those who came looking for a particular service, one unavailable at such notable shops as Reverend Zombie's and Hex. But they did come, and when they did, Drae could always tell them apart from the thrill seekers and the genuine antique hunters. He could find them by the smell of their panic and, as was the case with Jackson, from the look of utter desperation.<br/>
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The shop was empty that late afternoon save for the owner, who stood at a full, nearly staggering height behind the black wooden counter, the locket dangling from a thin hand that he might better inspect it. With hints of light still trickling in from the open door, he wore an antique pair of violet-tinted railroad spectacles, which only added to the relative gloominess of his snug black attire. Where his client stood in a state of distress, Draenai examined the trinket with a cool sense of detachment, silent until the man had spoken his peace.<br/>
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"If what you have given me is indeed accompanied by a spirit that burned down your family home, I would take you for a fool." Though the content of his statement was harsh, the tone of his voice indicated a general lack of venom or genuine malice, containing only the subtle lilt of an accent most men would not recognize. "What stopped it from taking down the airplane, and all the passengers with it? You may have been better served by dropping it into the ocean, or at the very least saved on the airfare."<br/>
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Content with his analysis, Drae carefully pinched the locket closed, observing the man from behind his tinted frames. "But as you've already made the journey, I will contain it for fifteen thousand. If you find my fee high, remember what happened to your home and consider what risk I take, both with my well-being and the state of my business, in assuming responsibility for it."<br/>
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The Hex'ras still thought the man a fool for having made such a long journey, but despite his admittedly intense critique, he was perfectly prepared to do what needed doing and neutralize the spirit. He needed no further proof of its existence than the sheer energy excreted from the innocent-looking piece of jewelry, and he had no doubt as to the extent of its capability for destruction. In truth, he regarded his price as something of a bargain. "You'll understand, of course, that for this particular transaction, I can only accept cash payment. Fifteen thousand, and you can start over."</span>