Fate weaver’s convergence

“Morning!”

 

“Morning!”

 

“Mooornin.”

 

Beryl and Vaughn each came downstairs, the house was alive with activity. Jagoda and the others were walking about, moving fresh towels to the rooms, whilst breakfast sat warm on the dining table. Mizzel’s tail was visible through the doorway in the living room, Kiyomi’s occasionally coming into view as it swayed about like a content cat. As the two approached, Vaughn taking a seat and Beryl settling on her coils, they each stole glances at Kiyomi as Mizzel prattled on about stories from her grandmother or something of the like.

 

“What are they doing?”

 

Beryl picked up a fork, pointing it in the direction of the two demons. 

 

“Just having some time for themselves. The girl's horns needed tending, she’s molting, so it has to be cleaned.”

 

Jagoda waved an aging finger as she cleaned, her back turned. Kiyomi was eating a piece of bacon, slowly pushing the last of the strip into her mouth just as Mizzel began rubbing a brush against the fresh keratin. Her eyes were closed, taking in the spoiling atmosphere that Mizzel seemed all too happy to grant.

 

“Ooooh shit, that’s the stuff. Aaaah.”

 

Kiyomi was lost to the world, her face flushed, her stomach supposedly full, and the brush slowly scraping away any grime or stress she’d been sleeping on. 

 

“We’re still sticking with the schedule we made for ourselves yesterday?”

 

Vaughn prodded at the food laid before him, chewing idly. Beryl looked down, prodding at her own. 

 

“First, the temple, get the potions and herbs. Then we go meet Jozef at the engineers guild to see what exact inconsistencies they’ve found?”

 

They nodded to each other, the consensus remaining the same as the night prior. In the meantime, they intended to leave Kiyomi with Mizzel, considering she was jumping at the chance to spoil her junior atop playing distraction. With Beryl’s insistence, the first and foremost concern was the supplies for healing, the conversation with Kiyomi atop the scandal from the day prior confirming that. Afterwards, they were to meet Jozef, Miss Jadoda’s son-in-law, at the engineers guild. Conveniently enough, after the awkward apologies were set aside, Vaughn and Jozef hit it off spectacularly. Discussions of supply trains between the city’s for a veritable supply of wood and stone between the two being the prime concern. Brenton increasingly found itself in need of stone, the presence of monsters becoming too great around the old quarry for even the subtle mercenary presence to make the workers feel safe. Vice versa, there was not enough infrastructure around Krakow to support the logging operations at the scale required. The two cities had their feet under them for trading. The issue now was the allocation of said resources to keep time frames and numbers in mind. It was one thing to know where to find the resources and another entirely to use them wisely when working on a massive multi-city endeavor under a time constraint. 

 

“Still, it’s wild that we stumbled into the house of one. We may as well begin gambling with that luck.”

 

Vaughn shoveled the last of his eggs down, his bacon sandwiched by a muffin he’d taken from the table center. 

 

“Way too lucky, seriously. Figure it may as well be the universe apologizing for the early…”

Beryl looked at Kiyomi, the girl lost in her own daydreams or possibly just some more gentle sleep as she was still being tended to. 

 

“Earlier events. Speaking of, if we intend to get the headstart so-”

 

She pointed at Kiyomi, careful not to draw attention by calling her name. 

 

“Without someone stressing over us, we should go, now.”

 

Vaughn nodded. 

 

“Way ahead of you.”

---

“So this is the temple?” 

 

Vaughn asked, looking at the gates of Myr’s temple. He’d been plastered to Beryl’s side, the brothels and bars of Krakow’s veritable underground ‘redlight district’ littering the cave walls. At their age, they were still old enough to just barely pass as a pair of fresh sixteen suns, making them all too vulnerable to the annoying cat-call or the aggravating haranguing from a bar trying to feed clientele into its entrance. Myr’s temple was dead at its heart, the cleaner parts of the floor and its relative peace, strangely all being tucked past the temple in its much more protected cave network that managed to snake to the floor above. Beryl and Vaughn ended up taking the path least advised, but most direct, the lifts.

 

“I mean, it’s what you’d expect, her being the goddess of the sea and darkness and all that.”

 

Beryl muttered, looking at the temple. It pre-dated the temple of Solah that sat on the floor below by about twenty-odd years. A pair of Kraken were carved from the two main support pillars in the small courtyard. Encapsulated between the pillars and the doors themselves, an imperial tiled floor with depictions of heroes past, renowned healers, and Nyx herself. 

 

“And her temple is dedicated to healing? You’d think a temple of Tyr would be the place of healing for an entire city.”

 

Beryl seemed beside herself, brushing aside the temple's significance as they made their way through its opened doors. Inside, tapestries of the sea, the night sky, and endless caravans or marching armies lit under the moon. The mana stones placed behind them were blue, creating a gentle atmosphere. Inside, a dozen or so priests or workers made their way throughout the temple. In place of pews, catacombs, or small archives dotted throughout, Nyx’s temple emphasized its darkness, and pools were placed in a uniform pattern throughout the main series of rooms. 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Beryl gently prodded at one of the priests.

 

“Hmm? Can I help you.”

 

An older human woman, possibly in her fifties, answered in slight surprise.

 

“Ah, apologies. Myself and my companion, we were curious about any services regarding potions.”

 

The older woman placed a scroll atop a corner table.

 

“For healing or conceiving?”

 

“Um, healing?”

 

Beryl answered, caught off guard by the question. 

 

“I’m not the person you want to talk to. This way, one of the misers in the back will sell you workable herbs and any potions you may need.”

 

The two were corralled about the place, a hallway here, a natural tunnel there until they were brought to a small room with the smell and feel of fresh air coming and going. It was a man-made hovel rife with vials, nestles, and any other utensil used for breaking down all forms of the resources. An elf, sitting at a desk while grinding some kind of seed into a powder in his lap.

 

“If you've come looking for some cure for gout, scurvy, or something of the like, I've told people countless times. Acquire a proper damned diet.”

 

He seemed sour, not even sparing a glance as his slicked-back hair held its place upon his head. He was focused on the mortar, dedicating his full attention to the tool.

 

“They're looking for proper work from you, Lars. Damned ingrate.”

 

The woman waved a hand as if to brush away the elf's coarse greeting.

 

“This is Lars, he handles the stores for the hospital. If you're looking to purchase potions not watered down to match the rates of the market? This is where you'll find It. Lyon, Francia, and Brenton are bullshite compared to our hospital. That's why you don't hear more about it. Cadiz is probably the only other city with a true medical resource other than here.”

 

She motioned to Lars.

 

“I trust you two know the way up top?”

 

“Aye, thank you.”

 

Vaughn nodded, thanking the old priestess as she passed, handing her a spare coin for the time. She pressed his palm closed, looking between him and Beryl.

 

“Thank you, but the coin you're about to give him will end up in the same place. We work to keep this place afloat. All the tax money goes to care for the sickly or child rearing.”

 

She hobbled her way down the entrance hall, disappearing shortly after. Looking back at Lars, the elf was still hard at work, but slowly raised the mortar so it was based on the table while he stood. 

 

“Well, on with it. I’m sure you don’t have all day, and I rather prefer to give my full attention to each of my projects. I’m almost done here, so I can tally everything you’ll need while I’m finishing up.”

 

He turned, slowly walking across the small space until he gently placed the bowl on the table between them all. Looking up, he revealed his face, probably in his eighties for an elf, appearing no older than a human in the mid twenties. Beryl went through the mental checklist her and Vaughn pieced together. 

 

“We were searching for any herbs or potions available for first aid in the field. Something for broken bones, lacerations, and maybe anything you might have for smaller things? Like cuts?”

 

“Potions for healing don’t come cheap, especially with demand being rather low here in Krakow. Atop that, may I ask why? You seem to both be experienced adventurers from how pointed the question was, why not take some courses on healing? Or shadow another party? I doubt either of you are wanting for mana.”

 

Lars pursed his lips as he asked, seeming confused as he waited to listen.

 

“We have a party member, with frayed mana-veins. It’s more for our benefit, really. She can’t heal, and we’d discussed the question of ‘what if one of us were wounded instead?”

 

Beryl spoke, Lars opening a small leather bound book, jotting down a note as he no doubt began working based on what he heard. At the mention of Kiyomi’s condition, he raised a brow then shook his head.

 

“An adventurer with that condition? Must be one tough nail. Continue.”

 

“We were looking for something with exceptional shelf life, that can survive the heat of the summer. We don’t really anticipate needing it, but we really can’t take the risk. Not if we’ll be traveling.”

 

“Should still look at him learning.”

 

Lars shot an odd glance at Vaughn as he pulled a few glass emptied gourds and clay bottles from underneath the table. Vaughn nodded, placing his thumbs in his belt.

 

“We understand that one well, but my usual work keeps me occupied a bit much to pick up another magic.”

 

Lars nodded. 

 

“Nor would you be the first person to do so, you should consider it.”

 

He stood at full height, dwarfing the two by a head and a half. 

 

“I have a few options in the meantime at the least. For your consideration, a hundred fifty gold pieces.”

 

Vaughn straightened his back at the cost, and Beryl’s tail audibly slapped against the tunnel behind them in surprise. 

 

“Beryl.”

 

He nudged her shoulder, motioning for her to turn with him. Leaning close, he seemed nearly floored by the cost through his voice alone. 

 

“Can we afford that? I know we’ve been saving, but if we go through with it, we’ll be walking home with a hundred twenty five each.”

 

Beryl shook her head, raising a finger to poke at Vaughn’s chest.

 

“We need this. It isn’t a negotiable matter of if we get this. We’ll just have to bite the leather and get it over with.”

 

Vaughn sighed, turning back to Lars.

 

“So, how much can we get at that rate?”

 

The elf seemed understanding of their hesitance, the amount given usually enough to live off of for a month alone. 

 

“Six bottles, two for each of you, a single bottle of limited application salve. It’ll stitch up a wound, but that’d be a waste as it's intended for burns, poisons, and venom; of course, it's also safe for consumption. From there, I can also have a few sets of bandages lined up with herbs that should stitch up a wound or two nicely.”

 

Lars lined up an example of each from the items he presented, empty bottles and regular cloth bandages to make a show of the volume.

 

“That’ll be enough to keep us set for a while.”

 

Vaughn nodded to himself, placing a hand to his chin whilst his opposite arm hugged across his body. 

 

“They’re entirely shelf stable as well. The moisture from the bandages-“

 

Lars placed a hand on the placeholder. 

 

“The moisture is self-containing, and the potions will be more akin to a pickling solution so… do try your best to bear the taste, I’ll attempt to mask it any way I can.”

 

He seemed sincere enough, with the cold shoulder he’d given away so rely just five minutes prior.

 

“You threw us off with the turnaround in your mood, you don’t get many commissions for legitimate medical resources?”

 

Lars rolled his eyes, posting forward on the table. 

 

“Short of interrupting my workflow? Woman, eighty percent of my clientele comes here for std related treatment. That was not my aspiration when I began to learn medicine. I’d bend over backwards to have more customers like you.”

 

Beryl produced her coin pouch, counting through it for the last of their expenses of the stay in Krakow. 

 

“Why do you think that is?”

 

She asked, idly making small talk as she tallied the coins on the table. Lars placed one of his hands on his hips.

 

“Plenty of rip-offs, and most parties don’t make it east of the pass or range without a healer. We would have traffic from Cadiz, but for the most part, anyone passing through there, heads to the north to lay claims in the tundra. Aside from that? The cheap ripoffs in the markets. A quarter the cost for a tenth of the effectiveness.”

 

Beryl looked over the examples one last time. 

 

“Then we will trust in your expertise.”