He took an unconvincing step inside. Averagely built, blonde, and perhaps 6’ tall. Not unlike any other perfect stranger on the street. Well put together, perhaps, but not much besides that. It was doubtful he was there to buy anything, really. He certainly didn’t look like Lye’s definition of an average customer.
Shelves were stocked to the brim with all kinds of roots, leaves, and powders inside of glass jars. Of course, most of it was just for show, to impress the clientele.
Lye exhaled as the man made his way straight to the front desk. He was used to seeing customers come in packs. An entourage of positive affirmations and oozing of affluence. Gilded hilts, that sort of thing.
This man was clearly here to waste time. A loner, with nothing that would indicate rank or class.
“Do you have a product catalogue?” he asked.
Ridiculous.
“Everything I have is made to order,” Lye answered. “Did you have something in mind?”
The man extended his arm and peeled back the sleeve of his simple doublet, revealing a sizeable burn scar along the length of his forearm. As he did so, Lye could hear the muffled sound of chainmail clinking. “I’m looking for something that could heal this. A potion of sorts. Preferably, it would be fast acting, and repair the appearance to its original state, at least for a time.”
Lye paused for a moment. Did this man mistake his enterprise for a medicinal ward? A simple cleric’s corner shop? It was best, in these cases, to give an outrageous estimate on the work, rather than give them a piece of his mind. After all, this stranger could be the son of some merchant prince. And he was most likely battle hardened, from the sound of the chainmail.
“As it would be outside of the sort of thing we usually do, I’d estimate the time to brew at 3 weeks for a large order. Additionally the costs incurred would be quite high, since we do not carry stock of many of the ingredients used. Firestalk and Monks Root and so forth. The price would be something like… a thousand gold coins per barrel.”
The man lifted his hand to his chin, in subtle contemplation.
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It was quite irritating.
“I understand if you prefer not to purchase,” Lye said. “I can recommend a number of other shops if your interest is simply in healing your arm.”
Another moment passed. What could this man possibly be contemplating? That price was triple the usual fee. No sane person would consider it, even for a passing moment.
Finally the man spoke. “I’ll take 50 barrels.”
Ridiculous.
Lye nearly shouted at him, to get out of the store and stop wasting his time. This man was obviously trying to scam him.
“I assume I’ll need to pay in deposit,” the man said. “Let me instruct my carriers to bring in the sum.”
The man stepped outside for a moment, and came back in with 2 men carrying heavy wooden chests. They placed them on the floor with a resounding THUD, and began to organize the agreed upon amount onto a blanket in the center of the room. Once they had stacked enough gold bars to constitute 25,000 in coins, the man approached Lye and asked for his information to be taken down.
Lye tested the gold with a bit of Aurelion Acid, and to his great surprise it remained undamaged. He even melted a bar with some Potion of Scorching, and it was found to not be gilded.
There was nothing else to say. As was typical, they went through the process of verifying identity, and inquiring who would be picking up the order. As Lye inquired, he discovered a bit more about this man’s background. His name was Fen, and he was the leader of a guild known colloquially as the Silver Dragon's Men.
“We operate in most of the neighboring kingdoms,” Fen explained. “The guild is organized to defend cities against attacks from Dragon’s. We boast a roost of Silver’s that are incredibly small compared to the usual kind, even as adults. The advantage is that they are much more easily tamed, and ridden, which has allowed us to take our fights to the skies when it comes to fending off a particularly nasty Red.”
“And what about the order for the potions brew? Have you had your fair share of attacks recently?”
Fen grinned. “A nearby city state lapsed in payment since Dragons had not been seen for some months in the area. By sheer coincidence, they happened to be attacked not too long after ending our agreement.”
Lye nodded in understanding. “And they’ve paid for your services again?”
“Not quite yet,” Fen explained. “But we think they may soon, since the Dragon has taken refuge nearby. In the meantime, a merchant we work with will be distributing some of your potion to the area, at a very reasonable price of 2 gold per flask. We should be able to sell about 35,000 bottles for a tidy sum, to help finance the preparations we will need to make when it comes time to return to the defence of the city. And with most of the gold exiting the hands of the commoners, it should help to disincentivize the Dragon from staying for much longer. ”
“Well,” Lye said. “I wish you the best of luck. I’ll have everything ready for you in 3 weeks.”
And with that, the man was gone.