Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!

Hear ye, hear ye! Attend to the pronouncements of your humble Town Crier, Herald Pembroke! A most curious device hath been brought forth this day, and by order of His Majesty’s… well, no order precisely, but it feels like a decree from the Crown, so listen close! 'Tis a small vessel, black as a raven’s wing, and sealed with a stopper of bone! They call it… a “Portable Inkwell”! I suspect foul sorcery! A containment for the very essence of the scribe’s power, shrunk to fit within a gentleman's pocket! Surely, this is a means to spread rumours and seditious pamphlets with unheard-of ease! A dark art indeed!

Ding!

Mark ye well, good people, for the price of this… *contrivance*… is a scandalous sum! No less than three pounds, seven shillings, and sixpence! Three pounds for a thimbleful of darkness! I daresay the King’s own scribes use larger, more honest vessels, and for a lesser cost! I smell a tax! A hidden levy upon the very act of writing itself! Be warned, lest you find yourselves taxed for every letter penned! I've heard whispers it requires a special, exceedingly rare ink, the colour of dried blood, costing a further sixpence a drop.

Ding!

Furthermore, observe the peculiar craftsmanship! It seems wrought not by a proper artisan, but by some… abstract fellow! Like Madame Ennui described a “Hollow Thermostat”, this is a thing of… emptiness. A hollow promise. It holds ink, yes, but what is ink but potential trouble? Like the “Provincial Zeppelin” I heard tell of, this object promises more than it delivers! And Sister Lunaris spoke of objects sensing our desires... this one seems to sense my suspicion!

Ding!

I fear this “Portable Inkwell” is a precursor to further meddling with the natural order. I give it but two bells out of five. A curious item, to be sure, but fraught with peril and far too expensive for honest folk! Be wary, and keep your quills sharp, but your opinions sharper still!

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!