The Reliquary

rel·i·quar·y ...a receptacle or repository for relics, especially relics of saints.

Having remained in more or less the same location for hundreds of years, The Reliquary, a General Store of Oddities and Antiquities, is as much a landmark of Boston as the Paul Revere House or King's Chapel, with one small difference...

Most no one remembers it.

The exact history of the place is tough to pin down. What few records there are explain how there's always been a building with the name of "The Reliquary" somewhere in Boston since at least the 18th century, but actual correspondence concerning its purpose is mysteriously rare to the point of nonexistence. Yet, oral history from various Hunter families, including a few closely-guarded diaries and the like, describe the place as an impressive repository of supernatural artifacts, supplies, and knowledge, all available for a reasonable to outrageous fee, depending on the request. How the store manages to keep a cloud of obfuscation about its history and contents, however, is anyone's best guess.

Rumors have run the gamut from the finger bones of saints to powerful black magic, but the various shopkeepers (few of whom have been related) over the years have been closed-mouthed concerning any details about the shop's alleged supernatural nature. The current owner, Danny Mazda, is no exception. Of course, some have tried to pillage the shop's contents in the past, or destroy it out of ignorance, but the result is almost universally the same: The way into the shop's inner store room becomes somehow barred to them, and in time, they ultimately forget they ever knew anything about the shop in the first place.

Many of the shop's owners have echoed over the years, "This is a safe place," or "This shop is a sanctuary," and it seems they have the means of enforcing that fact to some degree. Of course, while Hunters have been welcomed or tolerated depending on the individual, it has always been made clear that violence or malicious intent of any kind is not welcome, and the sanctity of the place will be respected. Customers are of course celebrated, seekers of lore, too, are treated with hospitality: The Reliquary is open to all who would seek to expand their supernatural knowledge, provided their intents are noble; it remains closed to and forgotten by those whose intents are not.

For this reason, if none other, the shop is a hidden gem amidst the historic buildings of downtown Boston, and for the most part remains yet unharassed by the turmoil of powers what currently storm over the world. How long that continues is, again, anyone's best guess.

Description
The shop consists of two main rooms: The larger retail area, and a storage room that can be accessed from a doorway at the very back of the larger room. It is nestled behind a massive mahogany desk, upon which sits the store's register (amongst other things), and is generally inaccessible without being obvious.

A number of alcoves line either side of the store, with displays that rotate in and out by season. The walls themselves are lined with bookshelves or hanging displays - tea to the left, and crystals, gems, and jewelry to the right. A few rows of shelves split the room, and thereon are various herbs and necessities for occult rituals and so on. Nothing dangerous, however. All the good stuff is in the back store room.

Finally, two large windows are set to either side of the front door, which usually display luxury items such as silks, exquisitely carved walking sticks, and various thematic bits of clothing.

What most people don't see are the runes and wards and glyphs carved into various places on the ceiling, floor, walls, and so on. These tend to be covered by rugs and tapestries, but those that aren't hidden add to the general decor. It's supposed to be a mysterious place after all.