Kashan woke up with soreness in his limbs. He’s pushed himself a little too hard the day before, traveling up down and around the town in an age completely foreign to him. As began to sit up straight in his hay-cushioned bed, he’d kick at its frame and smash the back of his head against the baseboard when he’d been startled by the abyssal haze of starlight only a few inches from his face.
“[You are awake.]”
Kashan gingerly rubbed the back of his head only to find that he didn’t actually feel any pain, at least not in the presence of the abyssal star. Yawning as the warmth of furs clawed at his consciousness, he muttered, “I am awake, as humans during the day usually are… What brings you here?”
“[Maintenance. I wish to inspect your stability,]” was all it said as its existence blinked about the room, observing Kashan from each angle, every angle, all at once.
“I feel a little sore. I may have overestimated my stamina,” he whispers, rolling his shoulders and sighing in relief as they produced an audible crack. As Kashan turned his head to look out the window, he noticed that life was completely still again. Birds and bugs alike were caught frozen in time, everything awash with a light gray tint.
“[Do you feel any anomalous instabilities?]”
“I am well, merely… facing the memory.” Kashan rubs his face with his hands to try and wipe away the fatigue.
The abyssal star bounced in the space it occupied, as if trying to nod as it said, “[Good. These events you recall are what made you the Commander you are. The Commander I respect.]”
“I thought I was just ‘Kashan’ now.”
“[You continue to meet the parameters of the Commander I respect.]”
Kashan smiled at the abyssal star’s oddly dictated compliment as its existence blinked away. Wind crept through the window left ajar and the hum of the town’s daily routine echoed from the street. After a minute of basking in the sun, Kashan began to reach for his armor but noticed a pair of parcels by the door. As he got up and opened the first, he found two sets of clothes along with a note.
“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you. Prepare yourself a little better before running from home next time.” - Tuscae.
The first parcel contained beige tunics, trousers, and belts. The second contained a simple sheath for his sword. Come to think of it, he had no oils for it, or polish for his armor. A quick inspection however showed that any nicks or cracks had mended themselves overnight. This was most likely a spellform the abyssal star had prepared for him and prayed in silent gratitude for it.
The sheath from Tuscae came with a simple sling. It wasn’t the most secure, but it allowed for it to be loosened at a moment’s notice. Kashan practiced drawing his weapon, first pulling it out from the sheathe a little, moving the sheathe and blade together to rest on his shoulder, then gripping the now exposed blade to fully draw his greatsword. It was tedious and cumbersome, but at least his hands were free. Before he’d left his inn room, he retrieved the documents he’d received from Tuscae and began to comb through them as he stepped through the hallway.
Kashan felt like he was being stalked without his armor. The comfort it offered served as a barrier between him and the new world he awoke in. Now he was nervous. Surprisingly, the glances and stares from the day before were absent. Perhaps the full set of armor made the townspeople nervous. They didn’t seem nervous until they saw his face though. Putting that thought aside, Kashan began wandering towards the market. Considering the dangers of his future opponent, curatives would be an integral part of his supplies. First, he’d need a pack to hold his belongings. Carrying everything by hand would be less than ideal if he were to be ambushed.
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As Kashan approached a swarm of outdoor stalls, he recognized the twinkle of a merchant’s eye. With the mercantile world and the guild so tightly bound together, it was easy to assume that Kashan’s name would be mentioned to peddlers, locals and visitors alike. As Kashan tapped the counter of a stall, he was greeted with a rather loud and animated woman, large as Kashan was in full armor and a frightening amount of strength that nearly threw Kashan aside entirely when she took his hand to shake.
“Welcome, welcome! Odd seein’ someone new out here in the corner ‘piss’ an’ ‘all’ bu’ nice to mee’ you all the same,” she said, releasing her death grip on his arm and slamming her open palm on his shoulder to pull him just a few feet closer. “How can I get those coins in my purse today? Take ya’ time, only a mild rush.” she hissed, voice low enough that the conversation felt a little more private without succumbing to a whisper.
Kashan rolled his shoulders again, recovering from the unexpected impacts with,“A knapsack if you could.”
“A knapsack fit for a knight an’ all he carries. Your sheath,” she paused, pointing toward Kashan’s greatsword. “I’d adjust it for you, no fee attached.”
“You would?” Kashan surprisingly remarked. He was unsure of why she’d-
“I made it for Tuscae the night before. ‘Ad I known he’d pawn i’ off to a lad more deservin’, I’d’ve made the right adjustments. I take pride in wha’ I do,” she hisses again, grabbing Kashan greatsword and pulls with enough force that she’s able to spin him around for a better inspection. “I won’t ‘ave you dyin’ scramblin’ for your weapon. Now ‘old still.”
Kashan felt like a stray held by the scruff of his neck, unable to move due to the woman’s sheer strength and unwilling due to how far she could probably send him flying. At least he was sure she meant no harm, even if the soreness from the impacts lingered. After a few minutes of posturing and posing, Kashan had a new knapsack, and adjusted sheath that sat vertically along his right shoulder blade. It tilted easily on the loose ring and sped up his draw, making him more comfortable keeping his weapon in it. His purse was lighter by quite a few coins, but he figured lightening his preparations rather than his coin purse would be his end nearer rather than further.
With a firm handshake that felt like it’d rearranged his joints, Kashan bid farewell to the leatherworker and began searching for an apothecary. Few villages had a practitioner to go to, often relying on simpler herbs and tonics to mend. A village on the cusp of becoming a town with a flood of slayers in its guild would most certainly have one. As he continued his musings during his walk until he found a signboard suspended with simple twine. It bore no title, simply an emblem inspired by a mortar and pestle.
Kashan pushed the unlocked door open only to be assaulted by pungent herbs and bitter incense. There were other patrons inside, all trying to haggle with an old woman wearing the widest brimmed hat he’d ever seen. She was a small woman, easily holding her own against those who’d tried to get more than an honest good deal. Upon seeing Kashan, she shooed away the hagglers with their purchases, allowing the silver to clink and twinkle in the sun before she slid them into a coin purse she’d hidden up her robe’s sleeves. “Approach boy, no sense in hesitation.”
Kashan does as she asked, but took his time ogling the various alchemical stations that littered the store. Each of them were heated by an odd crimson flame, devoid of the whites and yellows that usually accompanied a campfire or simple oil lamp. Kashan’s attention is attracted again by the old woman, elven ears peeking from behind her silvery hair as she spoke. “Quickly, boy. What’cha want.”
“Curatives, madam. In the next week or so, I and others will be facing a Lesser Flood Drake. I have faced it once before and will be acting as the vanguard while couriers secure the eggs,” Kashan said, still partially enraptured by the discolored flame.
“Are you brave or daft? No matter. You must survive and purchase from me again. CELESTE! Herfenroot solution!”
For a moment, the crimson flames flickered as footsteps rose from behind the counter. A woman adorned with a red robe, a red quartz staff, and red irises appears behind the counter. Her movements were full of grace and ele- “I CAN HEAR YOU WELL ENOUGH, YOU PODGY CRONE-” She cleared her throat when she noticed Kashan in the same room, covering his ears. “Nice to meet you, sir. I am Celeste, resident apothecary and practicing slayer.”
Kashan, upon hearing the name, reaches into his pack and looks over the documents again. There he finds Celeste Shey Knoll’s information along with an interesting title.
The Phoenixheart.