In this economy? Who do they think I am?

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In this economy? Who do they think I am?

Post by Velveteen on Fri Jun 22, 2018 8:08 pm

Yuruah strolled languidly down a street, a cherry pastry in hand and a basket of herbs in the crook of her elbow. Here and there a patch of something green would peek up at her from the cobblestones, and she'd scrutinize it dubiously; what right did the greenery have to be more successful than she was? Or than anyone was, really, in the wake of the war -- various people were variously affected, but she'd had to be more careful of late. If she was alone after dark for too long, opportunistic thugs might appear from around street corners where previously there had only been lamps.
Still, there was no use in worrying about something she couldn't affect -- there was hope, too, in every situation, and in this one there was the ghost of a chance that the crown's reserves were so depleted they might take her on. Oh, to be Crown Alchemist at such an age!
But, no, there was very little chance of that, even with her specific gifts.
She was legally homeless, after all, without even a shop's second floor to her name; no kind of royal hired any sort of random person who legally barely existed.
Much less one who until recently had resorted to begging.
The only reason she wasn't still sitting by the roadside like countless others was the kindness and gullibility of the citizenry she was willing to exploit, but even that would eventually run dry. She just had to hope that it did so after and not before the economy improved and she could leave town before they ran her out of it.
Yuruah turned down a street towards the square, hoping maybe to encounter some noble or another who'd offer work -- or, well, even a merchant or a pimp would be acceptable, being that there were ways to avoid being exploited in the ways these groups had a tendency to do, and most of them had homes. She could always just slip something into their wine and collect taxes in a corpse's name for a few months.
No one was in sight for a long while, or at least no one approached, but sure enough any length of time spent loitering would eventually produce results. A figure hailed her, and... ay, to shit on the sun! Whoever it was, he wore guardsmen's livery, brandished a shortsword and was very keen to accuse her of theft.
"Don't think I didn't see you, you slattern, stealing those spices earlier. I've been chasing you all day -- who do you think you are pinching luxury goods at a time like this?"
Yuruah even froze for a moment, trying to remember if she'd actually stolen anything -- not ever, her track record spanning ever was less than spotless, but there were no spices in her basket, and she had nothing strapped anywhere. Idiot must be mistaken, then. She drew herself up to her full, unimpressive height, scanning the area for an escape route.
"So we all look the same to you, is it?" Challenging them usually bought enough time to leg it. "Search me! I have nothing I didn't lawfully acquire on my person, other than your absurd accusation."
Sure enough, the guardsman hesitated, though he did insist on grubbing through her herb basket to be absolutely certain, and for a moment when his fingers touched the sand that had fallen off her unwashed collection she thought he might gut her then and there, though thankfully he had the wherewithal to try to taste it beforehand.
"...Fine. Be on your way, citizen."
Citizen? Citizen? After that? Citizen? Just so, from slattern to citizen? But Yuruah knew better than to raise the issue with such a one. He'd be looking for ways to pull through the post-war years, too, and she could wash his reek off her plants, but it would be much harder to wash the stain off her credibility if he talked to his petty little friends on the watch. She snatched her basket away and glanced at the sky, wondering how long she'd have to stay out here, before briskly strolling off in the other direction. To hell with the market district, then. She'd try her luck with the gentry on the edge of town by the approach to the castle.

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Re: In this economy? Who do they think I am?

Post by Yethorian Dravinas on Fri Jun 22, 2018 9:08 pm

Yethorian had left the castle this day to head into town to get his armour and weapons fixed up, his armor was in tatters and his weapons were all knicked up as well. The war had taken it's toll on him and his weapons, as a king, yes he should not have been on the battlefield but he loved fighting. His body showed that as well with his face having three scars over his right eye and one on his left cheek to the edge of his chin on the right side.

He walked past the guards outside the castle and turned to them his eyes scanning them and watching what they wore and how they stood. "You've been out here quite sometime...go home take a few days to be with your families." He stated as he then turned back around and began to walk. "You will also be compensated for the days." He stated again. He knew the town was doing horrid currently since the war it has yet to recover but its had only been a few months anyways. He didn't expect it to recover quickly, yet he thought it might.

He then began to head back toward town and get his stuff fixed, possibly even get more clothes and more herbs for the alchemist labs. He though about everything the castle needed right now and knew things were scarce but he would pay what he needed to for those items. He sighed some thinking about what had happened and didn't like the impact that it had on his lands, he wished that the war didn't take this much of a toll but it did and he would bring it back as quick as possible.
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Re: In this economy? Who do they think I am?

Post by Velveteen on Sat Jun 23, 2018 11:11 pm

Well, here it was -- Raven Burrow, castle district. Yuruah squared her shoulders and took stock of her options -- there didn't seem to be any. On the other hand, these people's fountain was among the only ones in the city still in working order, so if nothing else she could at least wash her herbs? Glancing furtively around for anyone who might want to enforce any bylaws to the contrary, she inched her way over and eyed the fountain's edge.
Nobody? Nobody. All right. So.
She sat down on the raised marble border and ate her pastry, making sure her tail was well concealed and the hair around her horns lay perfectly before setting her basket down in front of her to start her work. No one drank from this fountain, so she might as well kick off her shoes and dip her feet in too, mightn't she? The cold was pleasant, no one was casting aspersions, and sure enough the water wasn't stagnant; Yuruah could rinse the sand and other residue off her herbs in relative peace, unconcerned (more or less) about contamination.
She hummed as she worked, an old students' ditty setting the alchemical properties and classifications of the known elements to the tune of some elvish folk song or another.
Ether, earth, fire, water, air -- the elements are five
That turn the sublunary world and magic keep alive.
Forest wild and perilous be, and evil gods exalt
But brimstone fear, and quicksilver, and humble table salt.

Grit slipped easily from the stalks and leaves beneath her fingers, and once or twice in a while she'd glance up to see if anyone of note had taken notice -- so far, nobody had, but that was fine. After all, pulling people in was just a secondary goal. If she couldn't, she'd go and sell her inventory as planned, or give of it in exchange for shelter; there were tons and tons of useful herbs growing around here, but very few people with the skill to properly harvest them, so there'd be supply and demand for as long as no idiot burned down the nearby forest. Which they may well do, but again, perhaps they'd have the charity to go about that after everyone like herself had had the opportunity to skip town.
Gold and mercury and copper,
Silver, platinum, tin,
Sulfur to complete them, and white zinc to close them in.

What had happened to that, anyway? Of all things the war could have affected, it shouldn't have done anything to the supplies of philosopher's wool. She would have no luck asking, though; like as not, it was some secret military thing.
Yuruah scrutinized her herbs. Clean enough, probably. At least, pharmaceutically declarable to be uncontaminated.


Last edited by Velveteen on Sat Jun 23, 2018 11:18 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : missing 'and')

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Re: In this economy? Who do they think I am?

Post by Yethorian Dravinas on Sun Jun 24, 2018 1:35 pm

Yeth's ears could pick up the singing coming from the fountain but he would let it go knowing that a lot of his people sang when they worked. As he listened and walked he knew the familiarity to the keynotes from a friend he had many years ago. He shook his head and then proceeded to the blacksmiths as he formed a portal beside him while he walked, slowly he reached into it and then retracted his arm just the same pulling out a long, slender blade. The curvature on this blade resembled that of a katana, yet those blades have not been brought to these lands, yet somehow this man had one like that and it was longer than normal but shorter than a masamune.

Soon after the portal vanished and he entered the smiths shop and paid for a rush job on the blade, within minutes he walked back out and could still hear the singing. He then decided to walk over and saw the woman sitting there with her feet in the water and washing what looked like herbs. His emerald greens scanned this woman, had he seen her before, had he met her mayhap? He shook his head, no that was impossible he had never seen this woman before she was new to this area and he knew it.

He stood there silent and just watched her and listened to her singing until she was finished with her song he rubbed his chin some and smirked that song was so familiar to him and he knew it but he also knew he had never met this woman. He gave up contemplating that though and just stood there listening to the song at least before it ended anyways. He still stood there and watched the woman as he finished washing her herbs and he knew he could use them right now too.
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