"That is not dead which can eternal lie / And with strange aeons even death may die." - H.P. Lovecraft

I joined the guild a year ago due to my captivation of the world's peculiarities, having initially enlisted as a research assistant in one of their expeditions to the first nameless city discovered in the Arabian peninsula. That journey proved to be the catalyst of my obsessions, fueling my impulsive (and sometimes dangerous) ventures into the unknown, one of which I met with great difficulty because of its nautical nature... 

By foot I now traveled towards one of the many nameless cities; a sojourner in search of a sea-filled town, with no hope to explore it once I reached my destination (for I had not gills to survive underwater nor any item to grant me similar ability). Long prior to my current trip, my colleagues deemed my aspirations of visiting the place foolish, but only because everyone believed the endeavor to be impossible and thusly refused to invest their efforts into such an expedition. At the time, I too was despairing the journey, until a fellow researcher consoled me with his wisdom:

"There is a shop run by an eccentric Mrs. Ozitha. She is a curator of solutions and remedies for our line of work. But mind your head-- her prices are as capricious as she is, and you'll do good to stock up on your person whatever precious items you possess to barter with her."

Reflecting back on the conversation, I resented my amateur brain for having not interrogated the experienced gentleman further in his own exploits of the paranormal, at the time choosing instead to revel speechless in his statements, instilling his every word into my memory like it was sacred prose. Much good it did me though, for while I was prepared for the shopkeeper's potential demands, I hadn't the slightest hunch as to its location or how I might even begin to find it now.  

My travels brought me to an obliterated wilderness, a world barren of civilization. Upon a crossroads I came nigh,  the mirage of a small building flickered before my vision like the fickle licks of a wavering flame. For a moment I thought it an imaginary product of my solitude, until I beheld the rickety edifice myself at the intersection. I determined finally to enter the building, hopeful that I might encounter the luxuriant shop of Mrs. Ozitha.    

At once I became disappointed at the frugality of the place when I entered: the interior was as empty as the landscape I was previously in, with not a single thing lining the walls or the floor. I settled myself to leave, until my eyes fell upon the face of the clerk across the room. The woman's severed head, like a balloon, floated above her neck and was attached to her body by throbbing strings of veins and arteries. She smiled widely at me, her tethered head bobbing to invisible currents of air.

"Most peculiar," she purred, fixated on me. "Most peculiar indeed. What is it that you seek, traveler?"

I finally noticed the shelves of glass jars behind her, lined neatly on the walls with unusual-looking contents. "I'm looking for a way to breathe underwater for a duration longer than what is humanely possible. And I've heard that you might..."

"You'll want a helmet of baby's caul, then," she said curtly, her face turning to look at the elevated jars behind her while the rest of her body remained seated at the counter. "I'll have you know that it will be a costly transaction. Do you even have enough?"

"Will you take fruits from the goblin market?"

"No."

"Mirror golems?"

"Afraid not."

"Hair bat?"

"I've got enough of those."

We discoursed over many of the possessions I had with me, all of which the woman refused. I was soon down to my last item, and it was one that I was most reticent to part with. "I've got a Djinn ring," I said, in exasperation. "Will that do?"

After a moment's thought, the woman shook her floating head, unable to control its motions as it continued to move side to side when she spoke. "That's far too much, dear. Haven't you anything else?"

"Madam, that is all that I have to my name! Will you not be merciful to a traveling scholar?"

"A passage for a passage, then," asserted the woman, enthused at my reported occupation. "Describe to me your most exciting accounts and I might permit you the item that you require for your next adventure."

"Very well. If that's what it takes," I assented, extracting a prismatic talon from one of the pouches dangling on my belt. "My first tale pertains to this relic; it is a souvenir from the expedition I made...to the grave of a gryphon."