Yanis will lead his mule and the rest back to Zellara's home, "I just feel like we need to be here for some reason." Yanis states to no one in particular.
As the party arrives back at Zellara's home, she appears from her deck. "Thank you for coming, my friends. I believe Korvosa to be in more danger then usual, given the recent events on the streets. That brooch you recovered from Lamn's lair has some future importance to this danger, but I know not where or what it is. I only see vague impressions of it in the cards. Perhaps a jeweler or a street fence may have a better idea of what it is."
The Merlin thinks for a moment of the various shopkeeps he knows in Midland and the city beyond. Disregarding those who are known to gossip or sell information.
Machaera pokes about in the collection of what was left after selling most of the gear that none of the group wanted but that others found attractive in the rioting city. Most of it’s clinking potion bottles, but after a moment she fishes out the damaged brooch, heavy in gold and gleaming with jewels. Alchemist she may be, but she’s no expert in assessing the value of worked gold; she can tell, though, that Lamm was lucky to get his hands on such a piece.
“There’s the Green Market in my part of town,” she offers. “It’s not all so glamorous, but there are a few jewelers there. South Shore has been comparatively quiet the past few days, being on the wrong side of the wall.” And a rather more well-to-do neighbourhood than many of the older parts of Korvosa that don’t run along the ridge towards the castle, but Machaera is too polite to mention that.
Io tags along, oddly quiet as she watches the area, ensuring the riot stays far away. Much of her time is spent on the rooftops, chasing away potential threats from the main group. She hops back down at Zellara's, though, "Here, can I see that?" she reaches for the brooch, searching her mind for someone she might have seen with it before.
"Lets met with the others first then we can sell of whatever else we need too." Yanis parks the cart and knocks on the door.
Headsman arrives at Zellara's somewhat later than the rest of group, bearing a few bruises and bloodied knuckles, but looking in fine shape otherwise.
"There you folks are. Big news on your end?"
Handing the brooch over to Io, Machaera nods a greeting to Yanis and Headsman as they arrive. To the latter’s question, she frowns in self-reproach, explaining, “I’m sorry, but the alchemy I was working on failed. Troll bile is so volatile, and it will take a while before the coction has progressed enough to try again, but I was able to salvage some of the ingredients. More importantly, Zellara-”
Her ghost, or whatever she quite is, Machaera thinks, the thought flashing through her mind even as she carefully avoids voicing it. It’s rather odd to think of how quickly she’s got used to the spectre, but then again, a trip through Geb is most instructive on such points. “-has sensed that the brooch we recovered from Lamm is something important, but how exactly remains obscure even to her gifts. We were just considering where we might find someone who would be able to tell us more about a piece of jewelry.”
'The Green Market is probably our best bet. I know of a few more local jewelers, but it's a small community. They're likely to talk if we're on to something important here.' The Merlin nods to the new arrivals.
"SO we do not sell this item, we can hide it here in the house of Zellara and maybe it will be something important to someone else. How do we wish to proceed here? There will be many sicked and injured who cannot pay the churches fees for healing, I will be in demand and have ease of access while moving through the city. What is it we are looking for though.?"
Yanis takes a seat going through his bag of medical supplies
'I think, for now, we need to know more about the brooch and what it means in relation to events at large. As Machaera said, the Green Market is probably our best place to get that information. Thankfully, we won't have to cross most of the city to get where we're going this time.'
"Someone should make a sketch of the brooch if we leave it here. Otherwise the safest place is probably wearing it."
"I'm not too worried about someone stealing it from us. Let's just keep it out of sight in a pouch."
'If it's as important as Zellara says it is, or will be, maybe it would be best not to let anyone know we have it. With a drawing we can tell people we're looking for it, perhaps for some wealthy noble trying to track down a family heirloom?'
“I think we might as well bring it along, safely stowed somewhere. If we were taking it to the Acadamae, and it turns out to be concealing some magic that we haven’t discovered yet, then I might worry, but an ordinary jeweler would try to drive a hard bargain at best.”
With a slight suggestion of a grin, Machaera adds, “Headsman’s axe should help convince anyone that our decision whether or not to keep the piece at this time is final.”
The group moves into the Green Market shopping district in South Shore, where the newest of Korvosa's up and coming meet high priced items, like jewelry, clothing, and the latest in designer pets. People are much higher class here, and you see both the nouveau riche rubbing arms with older families who decided to move here to experience a rebirth or to gather more funds for their next political maneuvers. Most are human, though one or two half-elves, gnomes, halflings, and elves move amongst their shorter lived kin in this heady combination of wealth. Most passersby look disdainfully at the meanly dressed and accoutered group, while guards put their hands on their weapons or other equipment as you walk by.
The Green Market itself is a small indoor market with various kiosks and storefronts, each featuring some specialty, from spices to specialty elixirs designed to enhance the soul and revitalize the spirit (sold by a shop entitled Spiritual Vapors). Where do you search for a jeweler in the mix of all of this frippery?
Once they’ve arrived, Machaera pauses just inside the Market, indulging in memories of happier days for a second. Before the scandal of her trial, she could browse here unarmoured, without fearful looks shot surreptitiously her way. Today, though, feeling the additional weight of the judgements passed on her companions, Machaera meets disapproving glances with a stern glare. It has been a while… After a moment she spots a familiar booth, and she steps up confidently to the counter of Spiritual Vapours.
“Been a long time.” The clipped statement is mainly for show, as the mage puts on the role of the hardened adventurer, but her eyes show a hint of playfulness. For what it’s worth – she knows even people she thought she knew are rarely as happy to deal with her as they may pretend. Even at the best of times, Machaera’s wares were flashier and less complicated than Vapours’ elixirs, but on occasion she was able to provide impulse purchase type things to line the top of the shop’s counter: teas to soothe matronly or scholarly nerves, remedies for rakehells’ overindulgences. Even some of the top-shelf stuff was sometimes provided discreetly by the outlandish elven alchemist, for those seeking Calistria’s kindness in particular. Some risks would definitely affect a lady’s spirit.
She leans back casually on the counter, shamelessly abusing her past history with the merchant as she scans the market for anything that might offer promise as a jeweler’s, or at least a suitable clothier. “Anyone new and interesting come through lately? Old Poshment still around?”
Machaera tosses out the gnome’s name (a goldsmith who once put in an appearance in the Green Market every now and then with his delicate, whimsical creations) to clarify what she’s looking for here. She has no interest in torturing the clerks of a former business acquaintance with the scandalous presence of a suspected – Acquitted, thank you. – murderess. If they can point her in the right direction, she'll leave them to the whispered rumours of the toffs titillated by the proximity of a dangerous, exotic elf witch.
The Black Merlin drops from the rooftops near the entrance to the Green Market, his mind preoccupied by the risk posed by wandering through a busy, indoor market in the middle of the day. Here's hoping they think I'm some exotic Qadiran trader.
'We're going to stick out like sore thumbs, maybe if we lean in to the exotic angle we'll make it through OK.' He says lowly to the Albatross as they close the final distance to the Market.
The vigilante follows Machaera through the Market, trusting to her experience. 'I'm glad you've spent time here. I never much make it out of Midland.'
Yanis looks around the stalls for any new and interesting medical supplies, hoping to find something to take with him on his travels.
"You are familiar with this market Mchaera?"
One of Spiritual Vapours’ clerks is especially unfamiliar – presumably new – and so Machaera waits patiently for the hushed, hurried explanation of who this outlandish elf is and speculation as to who her even more unusual friends are to finish. Unruffled, she chats casually with the others.
She nods at Yanis’ question, a hand circling languidly to take in not just the market but all of South Shore, “Not as much as I once was, but this is the part of Korvosa in which I reside. Some of the houses here often find a pyrotechnician helpful for entertaining – and an alchemist’s kindness the morning after. And one can find some lovely dressmakers.”
She grins as she turns to the Black Merlin, hoping to put both the hooded masked man and the marketgoers at ease. “You should try it sometime,” she says , “You’d be surprised at the interesting things you can find, beyond the latest fashions.”
As she speaks, Machaera picks up one a vial from among the lesser wares the counter displays, her trained eye going beyond the label to assess the quality of the contents.
Headsman keeps his hands in his pockets as the party moves through the Market, and glares down the dirty looks he gets. If he was lucky, he'd only get accused of stealing a few times.
"I can't say I feel too welcome 'round these parts. I usually tell the kids to stay away. Merchants here have a tendency to assume anybody living on the street is here to steal."
Once they’ve arrived, Machaera pauses just inside the Market, indulging in memories of happier days for a second. Before the scandal of her trial, she could browse here unarmoured, without fearful looks shot surreptitiously her way. Today, though, feeling the additional weight of the judgements passed on her companions, Machaera meets disapproving glances with a stern glare. It has been a while… After a moment she spots a familiar booth, and she steps up confidently to the counter of Spiritual Vapours.
“Been a long time.” The clipped statement is mainly for show, as the mage puts on the role of the hardened adventurer, but her eyes show a hint of playfulness. For what it’s worth – she knows even people she thought she knew are rarely as happy to deal with her as they may pretend. Even at the best of times, Machaera’s wares were flashier and less complicated than Vapours’ elixirs, but on occasion she was able to provide impulse purchase type things to line the top of the shop’s counter: teas to soothe matronly or scholarly nerves, remedies for rakehells’ overindulgences. Even some of the top-shelf stuff was sometimes provided discreetly by the outlandish elven alchemist, for those seeking Calistria’s kindness in particular. Some risks would definitely affect a lady’s spirit.
She leans back casually on the counter, shamelessly abusing her past history with the merchant as she scans the market for anything that might offer promise as a jeweler’s, or at least a suitable clothier. “Anyone new and interesting come through lately? Old Poshment still around?”
Machaera tosses out the gnome’s name (a goldsmith who once put in an appearance in the Green Market every now and then with his delicate, whimsical creations) to clarify what she’s looking for here. She has no interest in torturing the clerks of a former business acquaintance with the scandalous presence of a...
The gentlemen behind the stall, a human in his late 30s with black hair and Varisian features, wearing an ensemble of blue and gold marked with dancing manticores, says "Miss Machaera! It has been a while! Have you come to inhale some glorious vapors from the mystical lands of Osirion? Or perhaps your friends would like an elixir mixed with the venom of the jade snake of Vudra and the essence of the Cheliaxian fire beetle, Fiery Fangs of Fury designed by Furon! It's been specially formulated to send the taker into a ecstasy of fiery rage during combat, allowing them to grow fangs and pump glowing venom into their opponent's veins, or use it during parties and sign your name onto your partner during the Dance of the 25 veils from Qadira! Or do they wish for the famed Wings of Azlanti liberty potion, guaranteed to make you fly through the day as you indulge in the latest of neo-fabric shopping for your next soiree! As for Posment, he still comes and goes between the Green Market and the Midlands. I hear he's working on a new line of golden coin linked necklaces to sell to the new queen's courtiers..."
Yanis looks around the stalls for any new and interesting medical supplies, hoping to find something to take with him on his travels.
"You are familiar with this market Mchaera?"
'Anyone else find it alarming that the guard seek to destroy drugs in the city unless you can afford to set up a stall in a place like this?' The Merlin tries to keep his voice low so only his companions can hear. He attempts, unsuccessfully to let his distaste for the brazen inequity.
"Big news there. Laws are for us poor people."
Headsman, meanwhile, makes no effort to hide his contempt.
"That and those who do not wish to follow them, there is and always will be a drug trade, it is just the way people live." Yanis browses the wear's but spends nothing.
The gentlemen behind the stall, a human in his late 30s with black hair and Varisian features, wearing an ensemble of blue and gold marked with dancing manticores, says "Miss Machaera! It has been a while! Have you come to inhale some glorious vapors from the mystical lands of Osirion? Or perhaps your friends would like an elixir mixed with the venom of the jade snake of Vudra and the essence of the Cheliaxian fire beetle, Fiery Fangs of Fury designed by Furon! It's been specially formulated to send the taker into a ecstasy of fiery rage during combat, allowing them to grow fangs and pump glowing venom into their opponent's veins, or use it during parties and sign your name onto your partner during the Dance of the 25 veils from Qadira! Or do they wish for the famed Wings of Azlanti liberty potion, guaranteed to make you fly through the day as you indulge in the latest of neo-fabric shopping for your next soiree! As for Posment, he still comes and goes between the Green Market and the Midlands. I hear he's working on a new line of golden coin linked necklaces to sell to the new queen's courtiers..."
Machaera smiles at the merchant’s effusiveness, giving a little start at his alternate suggestion for the uses of the Fiery Fangs. She doesn’t blush, though. She hopes. Don’t be ridiculous. It wouldn’t be the same at all, and you wouldn’t want it to. “Not today, friend, just checking in. I’ve got a little something brewing myself, but you know how fussy working with anything from a troll is… Anyway, I was just hoping for a quick repair on a broken clasp. Our gnomish friend knows his work, though I’d rather spend coin on jewelry rather than wear it as. Have you seen him today? Then again, I’m sure some other of these fine people will do…”
She cranes her neck trying to sort out the confusion of stalls and browsers in the small space, but here in South Shore, though people are still on edge, after a few days, the market is almost as crowded as usual in a well-to-do part of the city where the locals are more comfortable, not to say complacent.
'Anyone else find it alarming that the guard seek to destroy drugs in the city unless you can afford to set up a stall in a place like this?' The Merlin tries to keep his voice low so only his companions can hear. He attempts, unsuccessfully to let his distaste for the brazen inequity.
She takes the opportunity provided by the gesture to try to soothe the others’ ruffled feathers. “Most of these things are perfectly safe. Occasionally some interesting side effects, but that’s always a risk with the newer formulations. You are right about access, though.”
The gentlemen behind the stall, a human in his late 30s with black hair and Varisian features, wearing an ensemble of blue and gold marked with dancing manticores, says "Miss Machaera! It has been a while! Have you come to inhale some glorious vapors from the mystical lands of Osirion? Or perhaps your friends would like an elixir mixed with the venom of the jade snake of Vudra and the essence of the Cheliaxian fire beetle, Fiery Fangs of Fury designed by Furon! It's been specially formulated to send the taker into a ecstasy of fiery rage during combat, allowing them to grow fangs and pump glowing venom into their opponent's veins, or use it during parties and sign your name onto your partner during the Dance of the 25 veils from Qadira! Or do they wish for the famed Wings of Azlanti liberty potion, guaranteed to make you fly through the day as you indulge in the latest of neo-fabric shopping for your next soiree! As for Posment, he still comes and goes between the Green Market and the Midlands. I hear he's working on a new line of golden coin linked necklaces to sell to the new queen's courtiers..."Machaera smiles at the merchant’s effusiveness, giving a little start at his alternate suggestion for the uses of the Fiery Fangs. She doesn’t blush, though. She hopes. Don’t be ridiculous. It wouldn’t be the same at all, and you wouldn’t want it to. “Not today, friend, just checking in. I’ve got a little something brewing myself, but you know how fussy working with anything from a troll is… Anyway, I was just hoping for a quick repair on a broken clasp. Our gnomish friend knows his work, though I’d rather spend coin on jewelry rather than wear it as. Have you seen him today? Then again, I’m sure some other of these fine people will do…”
She cranes her neck trying to sort out the confusion of stalls and browsers in the small space, but here in South Shore, though people are still on edge, after a few days, the market is almost as crowded...
The merchant tilts his head, but seems to take the reviews in stride. "As you wish Miss. Posment is still here in the Green Market, somewhat east of where we are now. His stall is open from 9:00 am to 7:00 pm, Moonday to Fireday (Monday to Friday). You'll recognize it by his banner of the three golden birds spiraling in a wheel around a platinum coin, emblazoned on a field of orange. Should your companions need anything to strength their spirit, mental or physical faculties, or even their moral flexibility, Spiritual Vapors is here to serve your every inhaled need or dream! Remember, if it's not Spiritual, it's only cheap perfume!"
"Do you want to do something about these stalls? I think a few of them could stand to go out of business. Io whispers to Merlin, Headsman, and Yanis.
'We'd have to figure out which are the biggest offenders. If we start at the bottom we only create more business for the big fish.'
Her memory jogged as to what she’s looking for, Machaera thinks she’s spotted the banner indicated in the market’s confusion.
“Right. Well, hopefully I’ll see you again before too long,” she offers, shrugging ever so slightly as if to apologize – barely – for her companions’ zeal: she noticed the dig about ‘moral flexibility.’
To said killjoys, she points the way, “Over there, I think. Come on, everyone, this shouldn’t take long.” It’s a bit terse, even by her standards, but the last thing they need is to start a fight, another riot, or worse. She really does think most of Spiritual Vapours’ wares are safe, but she wouldn’t bet on the combination resulting from, say, tipping over a display in the course of a vigorous disagreement about ethical alchemy.
Headsman shakes his head at the discussion.
"'s not worth the trouble it'd stir up. Focus on the real problems."
Yanis scowls at the drugs and the thought of them being sold in public but agrees with Headsman. Yanis will follow Machaera.
As the party looks through the various stalls, the aforementioned banner, three gold birds spiraling around a platinum coin on a field of orange, floats in the air above a stall. It is filled with a variety of jewelry, ranging from rings, bejeweled walking staves, coin and wishbone necklaces, bracers, and far more. Standing next to the stall is a clockwork guardian made of steel and emerald, carrying a large glaive adorned with two garnets in the head of a snarling bulette. It stands about 9 feet tall, and scans the passersby with an unblinking gaze glowing from the two topazes set as eyes. Working in the stall is an older gnome wearing a lens for fine crafting work, plain workers clothes, and a myriad of fine tools for jewelcrating. He has blond hair, blue eyes, and skin that seems to change hue as the light catches on it various places, as if he were a living gem himself.
The Merlin does his best to admire the gnomes tools from a distance, but otherwise stays to the back, attempting to appear as an eccentric bodyguard.
Yanis moves up towards the guardian, inspecting it closely.
"Did you purchase this or build it yourself? I like the gems and the details in your guardian."
The multicolored gnome turns to Yanis, and says "Well young man, I built it myself. My name is Poshment Tourmaline, purveyor of fine magical jewelcraft and gem polishing for the greater whole of Korovsa, for both the wealthy of pocket and the wealthy of spirit. That is my patented Emerald Fury, equipped with a grinding glaive. It serves as a defender and shopkeeper when I am not available. Say hi, Emerald Fury 3." The guardian's eyes flash a brilliant yellow, and it says in a even male baritone Hello, potential client of Poshment. What interests you today?"
As the party looks more close at Poshment, they notice that the multicolored hues are from gems imbedded into his skin, as if he had layered himself in some form of armor or living art. His stall seems to contain a variety of jewelry from various cultures, from Skoan-Quah Shoanti bone rings to snuff boxes for the cultured aesthete.
“It’s beautiful work,” Machaera says, admiringly. She’s particularly impressed by the smoothness of the voice, and she wonders how long it would take to design such a thing. Figuring out a firearm, once she had one in her hands, was one thing, but this… Her first instinct, too, would be to err on the side of more magic, but that path is now more difficult for her.
Focusing, she segues easily to the task at hand after only the slightest pause and with a radiant smile, “Which is why we’re here, of course, Master Tourmaline. It will be nothing, really, for a jeweler of your talents, but we recently came across a broken brooch, and we were hoping you might be able to mend it, and perhaps tell us a bit about it. A ruffian emboldened by the recent unrest dropped it – after we proved stronger meat than he expected – and he certainly wasn’t the sort to have come by its possession honestly. Do you know who might have owned or sold a piece like this?”
With that, she carefully extracts the brooch from one of her many pouches, the golden thing glittering in her palm as she offers it to the gnome’s perusal.