ENCHANTED WAREHOUSE OR ELABORATE TRAP? — Celeste Leclerc Speaks Exclusively to This Gazette

THE URBANICITY GAZETTE
═══════════════════════════════════════
ENCHANTED WAREHOUSE OR ELABORATE TRAP? — CELESTE LECLERC SPEAKS EXCLUSIVELY TO THIS GAZETTE
═══════════════════════════════════════

By Carmen Delgado
Filed from: Bollard Row

—— When Celeste Leclerc described a warehouse where food is given freely and whole chickens cost less than a pint of ale, we assumed drink was involved. We were wrong. Mostly. ——

Your correspondent, upon receiving reports of an establishment described variously as 'a cathedral of commerce,' 'an enchanted warehouse,' and 'the place where they give you free cheese,' undertook to investigate the matter with all due journalistic rigour.

The party — comprising Celeste Leclerc, Oberon Mallory, and at least one other whose identity remains disputed — arrived at Bollard Row in the late morning, having been directed there by local intelligence. The first obstacle was the membership system, which Celeste Leclerc described as 'similar to a letter of marque, but for purchasing rather than plundering.' A miniature portrait was taken by mechanical means and affixed to a card — Celeste Leclerc reports the likeness 'bore an unfortunate resemblance to a wanted poster,' a comparison that delighted rather than alarmed.

Once inside, all semblance of order collapsed.

The matter of the free samples deserves particular attention, as it has become the most contested element of the narrative. Celeste Leclerc's original account mentions 'several small offerings of food' available throughout the establishment. By the second retelling, this had become 'a banquet distributed across twenty stations.' By the time the story reached this gazette's offices, the samples had been elevated to 'a feast rivalling the Governor's table at Christmastide, offered to any who possessed the fortitude to circle the aisles repeatedly.'

Our correspondent can confirm only that free food was distributed, that Celeste Leclerc consumed a quantity of it, and that at least one altercation occurred at or near a sample station, the details of which vary irreconcilably between sources.

The purchases themselves require enumeration, though the list varies between tellings:

• One (1) barrel of spirits, branded 'Kirkland,' of uncertain provenance but reportedly excellent quality
• Forty-eight (48) ship's biscuits, locally termed 'muffins,' of a sweetness suggesting Continental influence
• One (1) roasted chicken, whole, at a price so low as to suggest either charitable intent or dark sorcery
• One (1) 'patio furniture set' — the purpose of which remains unclear, though Celeste Leclerc describes it as 'the finest hammock arrangement yet devised'
• Sundry additional items, the exact inventory of which changes with each telling and has included, at various points: a portable forge, four hundred eggs, a decorative anchor, and something described only as 'the big Kirkland thing'

The total expenditure is reported as somewhere between 180 and 400 doubloons, depending on the source. Celeste Leclerc maintains — with considerable emotion — that they 'saved' money, a claim this gazette presents without endorsement.

— EDITOR'S NOTE —

The preceding account has been compiled from multiple testimonies of varying reliability. The Gazette assumes no responsibility for the accuracy of sample counts, chicken prices, or claims of enchantment. Readers contemplating their own expedition to Bollard Row are advised to bring a firm budget and a stronger will than Celeste Leclerc apparently possesses.

Further reports will follow as warranted, or as space permits.

— Carmen Delgado, Correspondent-at-Large