Arun. The capital of the fae. It was a beautiful city, one built right into the titanic roots of the World Tree itself. For all who played Alfheim Online, this was the hub of interaction, whether it be trade, meetups or declarations of war between two chuuni buggers with an axe to grind against each other. It was this city that AntoniusPius was flying towards, her wings fluttering rapidly as she travelled underneath the grand shadow of Yggdrasil. While it would be simpler to find a NPC vendor for potions, they were far more expensive than those sold by other players on the marketplace, and she was definitely lacking in funds thanks to that two-storey tall eight year old that had killed her and the party she had been in. With only common drops taken from the weak mobs around the Ancient Forest left in her inventory, it was highly unlikely she could sell enough for the necessary number of potions anyway, and she was definitely unwilling to give up on her Mozartesque Violoncello with +15 AGI just to fight an event boss.

"Wonder who'll be selling," she muttered quietly to herself, landing in front of Arun's gates with a light patter of feet. "Hopefully not that xXxNightShadowxXx guy. He's a bloody annoying. And probably ten years old."

It was difficult finding someone willing to sell potions on the cheap at times, but the Púca hoped that she'd manage. Otherwise she would live knowing that an eight year old dressed like a bunny rabbit had defeated her, and that was definitely not something she was willing to bear. Was Sai Makoto, greatest theatrist in her year level, inferior to lines of code? Of course not!