[center][img]http://www.epilogue.net/sites/default/files/imagecache/gallery_med/images/03/14/23434_1049688000.jpg[/img][/center] Made of old, unravelling hemp, and about the size of a human head, it was hard to deny that there was something vaguely offensive about the bag’s mere existence. and by extension, the gnarled elf from whom’s clenched fist it dangled. Elsie frowned. Casting an eye of the elf, who was, at that moment, leering at a woman bending over a nearby veg stall to inspect a potato, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, revealing a mouth that really hammered home the importance of dental hygiene. Whilst perhaps not the most standard of arrangements, there was unprofessionalism, and then was [i]this[/i]. With a beleaguered sigh, Elsie gave the elf’s a arm a firm nudge, [color=54813E]“Alright, come on,”[/color] she said, careful to keep her voice low in spite of the cover provided by the loud merchants and the general hustle and bustle of the market place, [color=54813E]“There’ll be plenty of time for you being a fucking creep after, but right now, some of us have got places to be.”[/color] The elf scoffed, snapping back to attention whilst withdrawing his arm,[color=fdc68a] “Keep your fucking hair on, and I’d watch that scowl of yours if I where you,” [/color]he said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her face, [color=fdc68a]“You know that if the wind changes it’ll stick that way, right?”[/color] At Elsie’s nonplussed expression, he simply shook his head, before she allowed him to grab a hold of her arm with one grotesque hand in order to lead them both down one of the many little alley’s between the many shops and buildings crowding the the centre. [color=fdc68a]“Here,”[/color] the elf said once they were situated far enough down the shaded alleyway for the cool air to cut through Elsie’s cotton dress and send goosebumps skittering along her skin.[color=fdc68a] “Now, see what you think.” [/color] With little ceremony, he offered her the bag. She took it, and tugged it open, revealing a mass of what looked like burnt grass with vivid purple ends nestled neatly in the bottom. Well, at least it looked like what he said he was, but now came the true test. She took a single strand of the herb, pinched between her thumb and forefinger, and then, she licked it, carefully avoiding the purple part. Immediately, she tucked it into the palm of her hand and clenched it in a fist. One… two… three… there was a slight fizzing sensation, and then a small amount of steam poured out from between her fingers. She uncurled her hand, revealing most of the herb to have disappeared, leaving only the purple end. She raised her hand to her nose, and sniffed. Instantly, she recoiled, nose scrunching up and eyes watering. It smelt a little like vinegar, or at least, it had the same acerbic bite, but there were definite hints rotten egg, dead fish, and a good helping of actual shit thrown in there too. Lovely. Taking a second to recover, she closed the bag back up, and handed it back to the man,[color=54813E] “Alright, I believe you, that’s definitely River Celery, perhaps it’d be an idea let it go and be river celery somewhere else.”[/color] The ‘merchant’ gave a toothless grin, [color=fdc68a]“you’ll bet your mother’s left buttock it is, you interested?”[/color] The stock was poor, but River Celery was hard to get ahold of irregardless of quality, and, when used correctly in small quantities it couldn’t really be beaten as a remedy to the morning bottle-ache that inevitably plagued long voyages, irregardless of any...mild toxicity. She slipped her hand into her coin purse,[color=54813E]“Twenty gold for the lot,”[/color] she said, tone matter of fact. The man barked out a hoarse laugh, [color=fdc68a]“You gotta be taking the piss if you think I’m giving you premium goods for that much!”[/color] the volume and pitch of his voice began to climb, drawing stares from a few passers-by out on the street, [color=fdc68a]“I risked my neck to get this I did! A hundred, or I’m taking this to someone who knows where their coin purse is!” [/color] Elsie rolled her eyes, [color=54813E]“For that pile of mouldy shit? I’ll go up to thirty, but no-”[/color] “Ha! Looks like someone doesn’t know the good from the bad! And you call yerself a healer?!” he said, wildly gesticulating. [color=54813E]“Thirty-five,”[/color] she gestured to the bag, [color=54813E]“the edges are purpled, means it got contaminated somewhere along the line-”[/color] she raised a hand as he looked like he was about to protest, [color=54813E]”-and you bloody well know it as well, so stop messing me around.”[/color] [color=fdc68a]“One-hundred gold!”[/color] Elsie clenched her teeth. She didn’t have the time to be haggling with quacks, so the trip would just have to do without. Might teach the idiots something about ‘responsible alcohol consumption’ anyway. [color=54813E]“Forget it.”[/color] She said, turning to leave, [color=54813E]“I best be off, I’ve got a boat to catch.” [/color] [color=fdc68a] “Wait!”[/color] [color=54813E]__________________________________________________________________________________________________ [/color] Bag of weeds in hand, and coin purse a mere eighteen gold lighter for it, Elsie made good time to the docks. A quick glance toward the ship showed that the heavier items of luggage, namely books and medical supplies, along with items needed for making camp (not something she was able to admit to having done recently, nor a particular favorite pass-time) she’d packed was already being loaded onto the ship by the crew. Scanning the dockside, she quickly caught sight of the other members of the company, gathered round and making… less than quiet conversation. And, oh goody, look who was already there - one of Grandmaster Elidren’s biggest mistakes to date - half-witted bard and apparently [i]vice captain[/i] Fiers Hartwine. They were all going to die. At least the [i]actual[/i] captain was Reignald, if anyone could get the bard under their thumb it was probably him, and Ricardo was the other vice captain, who, as much as he set her teeth on edge, was at least competent to, y’know, not [i]not get them all horribly murdered by god-knows-what was waiting for them in the blacklands.[/i] Elsie had never been so glad to not have to actually fight people as a job anymore. It looked like Alya, Rosha, and R’ornn were there aswell, which would probably make for an… interesting trip. She could already see the crystal-related injuries now. The orc, Malkai, was there too. And they were all going to be stuck on a boat together. A few short steps later, and she was near the others, and arrived just in time to hear- [color=FFE700]"Why are the juniors talking about Vice-Captain Hartwine? Is there something I've not been told?"[/color] And how the [i]fuck[/i] did he miss that one? Maybe she’d given him too much credit thinking of him as a half-wit, for clearly there was no intelligence to be found there at all. And then he started playing the lute, because of course, and something like irritation swirling in the pit of her stomach at the sound. Not that uncommon a feeling when in this particular company. She winced at the final, unnecessarily loud note of the angry tune. Momentarily turning away from the scene, she motioned to both Reignald and the innkeeper, letting them know she had arrived, before turning back to address Fiers. [color=54813E]“Really bard?”[/color] she called up to him,[color=54813E] “Are you trying to say [i]you[/i], of all people, somehow managed to miss what’s got to be the biggest ego-stroke in recent memory?”[/color]