Ellen came into the pub following two apothecaries who seem eager to kick her to the curb. She looks like she's been crying. Her voice has clear desperation.
"Scram, kid," The apothecaries scoff and walk towards the bar.
"Ellen?" Alfyn gets up from his seat and goes over to the girl worriedly, "What's wrong?"
"I-it's Flynn!" Ellen hiccups, wiping her eyes, "S-she's sick again... M-mama's crying and... I-I wanted to help..."
"Sick again?" Alfyn furrows his brow. Flynn only just got better today. A relapse?
"It's Marlene's kid... poor girl," Therion hears someone mumble; a local, probably. From the side, Therion can see the fellow drinking with a friend.
"Yeah, too bad their pop up and left. Saddled Marlene with all the problems... and she's just a washerwoman, gods' sakes..."
Alfyn brings Ellen over to their table and orders her some water. The little girl sits on his seat at his behest, looking quite distraught.
"Alright, Ellen. I need ya to tell me exactly what's wrong with Flynn so I can help, gotcha?" Alfyn kneels down by her side.
Ophilia looks to the little girl with sympathy. For a second, she gets a small twinge in her head of voices, like back in Atlasdam café. They don't sound very nice.
"Look'it that sap. He's going to dig in that empty pit of a family? Girl's mother can't even afford her better shoes, heh!"
"Finally, someone took that brat off our backs..."
The cleric furtively glances towards where the apothecaries that entered earlier sit by the bar. They seem to be tossing a few glances in Alfyn's direction, but they look away. Ophilia is pretty sure that these are their thoughts. She frowns, not that they notice.
From the corner of her eye, Primrose follows Ophilia's gaze towards those men. While the dancer doesn't have mind-reading abilities, she's more than capable of reading their faces and eyes. She would like to use them for target practice.
"F-Flynn started coughing... really bad!" Ellen recounts as tears and snot start to run down her face again, "W-we just s-sat down for dinner. It was small at first... and then it got really loud! She can't breathe...!"
"Oh my..." Cyrus holds his chin, "Is this evidential of the plague here?"
"Wasen it not mere fevers?" H'aanit raises an eyebrow, "Tis a different malady, mayhap?"
"Talk about bad luck," Tressa scratches her head, "Well, Alf will take care of it."
Alfyn looks to be deep in thought about what Ellen just told him. His brain is running through all the possible causes and illnesses he knows, mixing and matching descriptions and symptoms to try and figure out what's wrong...
"Ya... think yer mom might let me examine Flynn?" Alfyn asks solemnly.
"Yes!" Ellen nods furiously.
"Alfyn, wait," Primrose says quickly, "It's late. It's very likely that the girl should be asleep by now..."
"Aw, but Prim, what if it's an emergency?!" Alfyn counters, "I can't let this get worse... it could be a throat spasm or even swelling... that's dangerous!"
Therion lets out a heavy sigh. Alfyn will be Alfyn... as expected...
"So, you'll help?" Ellen looks to Alfyn hopefully.
"Yep, lead the way, Ellen!"
"T-thank you, Alfyn!" Ellen hurriedly bows before running out of the pub.
"You guys can head back. I'll, uh... be back whenever! Don't worry!" Alfyn slings on his satchel and makes a quick wave before dashing after the little girl.
"..." There is now a bit of silence at the table.
"Can we never catch a break..." Therion grumbles as he stands.
"Huh? Where' you going?" Tressa glances to the thief, "We can just leave this to Alf, can't we?"
"I'm worried as well," Ophilia stands, "Therion, if you are going after Alfyn, I will accompany you..."
"I willen comen with thee," H'aanit nods and rises.
"Alright. The rest of us will be at the inn then," Olberic nods, "I pray for your success."
"Do let us know if we can help in any way!" Cyrus says enthusiastically with some redness to his face. He ends up yawning in the next second, "Oh my, it has gotten a little late..."
"P-Professor... is it the wine?" Therese looks to him skeptically.
…
Marlene is at her wits end. Her neighbors can clearly hear Flynn practically coughing her lungs out in this little derelict neighborhood. The poor girl is coughing so hard that she cannot breathe properly and is looking even sicklier than before. Marlene is afraid to give her water since she might choke. The cough sounds almost like retching as it gets worse and Flynn's breath is like a high-pitched wheeze in between.
"Uhm, Marlene..." A neighbor knocks on her door, "Is lil' Flynn alright in there?"
Marlene apologizes profusely. In the distance, she thought she might have imagined someone else was coughing as hard... but Flynn's uncontrolled coughs bring her attention back immediately.
"M-ma- KOFF!" Flynn wheezes with tears in her eyes. Her lips look a little bluish, much to Marlene's horror.
"Oh, Dohter... V-Vanessa... I need to find Vanessa...!" Marlene hurriedly gathers herself, "Where did she say she was in town again..."
She wraps Flynn in a blanket and carries her out of the house, not wanting to risk losing time to Vanessa coming to the house. Most apothecaries were from out of town so they were likely all staying in guesthouses... Since Goldshore is a town with an economy reliant on hospitality, there is a good number of these places. She has an incredible amount of options to search, and a limited time to do so.
"Please, gods..."
The weary mother clutches the wheezing Flynn close as she runs madly through the streets. The lights for the street are now lit. They are brighter towards the more affluent areas. Not many people walk around in the darker parts of the city. Some of the less well-off apothecaries sit outside the small guesthouses they rented for the night.
"Excuse me," Marlene asks, breathless, "D-do you... Would you happen to know where Vanessa is?"
"Vanessa? Ask somewhere else, lady," One brusque apothecary blows her off.
"That woman's got the leaves we don't," Another sighs, "My guess is she's where the richer clients be, probably."
In the commerce square of the manor district, some wealthy people strut about for an evening stroll. An uneasy air is present and obvious on many of their faces, however. Gossip from worried parents permeates the crowds.
"Little Timmy... he hasn't stopped coughing..."
"Ah? But he was cured, no?"
"Of the fever, yes... But now there's this blasted cough..."
"Well, they should just go see Vanessa! The girl's virtually a miracle worker for Dohter... And she cured him for free the first time, yes?"
Marlene arrives, out of breath and out of place in her shabby cleaner dress amid these rich socialites. Overhearing a couple mention the name of the sought-after apothecary, she goes to query them.
"Oh, Vanessa's staying at the Hilltop..." The noble turns his nose up slightly, "I suppose she does help all..."
"But at such a late hour, to bother her?" His wife gives a condescending smile to the washerwoman, "And dressed like that for the Hilltop?"
Marlene doesn't spare them a second glance as she runs for the Hilltop Inn. In her arms, Flynn feebly wheezes in her mother's clutches.
"Hang on, Flynn..." Marlene pants a bit, praying inwardly.
…
Ellen brings Alfyn, H'aanit, Linde, Ophilia, and Therion to her house only to find it empty. Marlene and Flynn are nowhere to be seen.
"M-Mama?" Ellen calls out in fear. It's not a very big place they live in, so searching takes little to no time.
"Uh, 'scuse me?" Alfyn knocks on the door of a neighbor, "Sorry about this, but you wouldn't happen to know where the madam that lives here went?"
"Uh, Marlene? Uhh, her Flynn was coughing up something fierce... I reckon she took her out to some doctor maybe?" The neighbor shrugs, "Who're you?"
"Just an apothecary passing by..." Alfyn looks back to Ellen, "Ellen! Your mom isn't here."
"Oh dear... she took the sick child with her?" Ophilia realizes, "That could be dangerous!"
"Another apothecary... I'll bet my last leaf she went looking for Vanessa..." Alfyn scratches his neck, "Where could that be?"
"We came to look and no dice. Let's just see if they come back," Therion grumbles as he sits down in Ellen's house, clearly in no rush.
"Hmm... Hath thee any scent, Linde?" H'aanit looks to her partner. Linde gets to sniffing around at some of the house belongings. Ellen looks with distracted curiosity at the big kitty strutting around their house.
"Maybe up at the manor district?" Ophilia suggests, "Tressa said she saw her there, right? Therion?"
The thief grunts unhelpfully.
"Alright, it's something... Someone's gotta have seen her. She looked like an amazing apothecary," Alfyn sighs and looks to Ellen, "You stay here, okay? H'aanit, would ya mind staying with her? Me, Lia, and Therion can continue looking..."
"Huh? But I-" Ellen starts to protest.
H'aanit nods. Linde goes to playfully prod Ellen with her nose, interrupting the child.
"You gotta stay and watch the house, alright?" Alfyn gives her a smile, "We'll find your mom and Flynn!"
"... Ok..." Ellen pouts with worry.
Therion sighs and stands, "I still say we should wait."
"Aw, Therion, don't be like that!"
"Take the kid and I'll stay," Therion sighs. There probably won't be much to steal around here, though.
"Nay, t'would be wiser to all searcheth," H'aanit points out. Alfyn looks to the eager Ellen and sighs, acquiescing.
As the they leave to search, H'aanit glances up at the night sky overhead. The constellation of Dohter is not out tonight...
…
Marlene finds the Hilltop cushioned with its usual posh neighborhood, just outside a gated community within walking distance of the cathedral. The place is so fancy that it has its own doorman, who looks with displeasure at Marlene running up to him.
"E-excuse me!" She asks, breathless, "Is the apothecary Vanessa staying here?"
The doorman raises an eyebrow, "Who comes asking? Our patrons are currently asleep. Unless you are seeking a room... by which you are also out of luck."
He points to a sign saying "No Vacancy" on the door.
"N-no, I just need to see her posthaste! You see, my daughter," Marlene lets him see Flynn swaddled in her arms, "She's sick... I-I just know that Vanessa can cure her again!"
The doorman is about to rebuke the woman again and turn her away. He takes one look at the sickly child fighting to breathe and purses his lips.
"... Wait here a moment whilst I fetch the owner," He says tersely in resignation.
Marlene waits anxiously as seconds feel like hours. The disheveled owner of the Hilltop, clearly having been woken from bed, shuffles out in a nightrobe with the doorman and looks Marlene up and down.
"She has a sick child," The doorman insists as Marlene looks to the owner pleadingly.
"Ugh, whatever! Come on, come on, my wife is expecting me back in bed...!" The owner hurriedly ushers Marlene in, "But don't you cause a ruckus or we'll throw you out!"
The doorman resumes his post while the owner takes Marlene up to the second floor. The Hilltop isn't regarded as luxe for nothing. It is the most expensive inn in Goldshore. The wallpapers and doors are lavishly decorated, and each room is said to have an actual water closet, not just a bucket and basin.
Before a door near the end of the hallway, the owner knocks and changes his tone immediately into that of a sweeter gentleman.
"Ahem, Miss Vanessa? I'm afraid you have an unexpected night visitor..."
There is the sound of something rustling around and then steps before the door opens a crack to show the purple-haired apothecary. Her ponytail is down, and she's changed to a nightgown.
"Whatever is the matter? I can't see anyone until morning..." She says with some obvious tiredness.
"Forgive the intrusion, but this woman-" The owner starts.
"Vanessa!" Marlene interrupts immediately, "Please, you must help Flynn! She... She started coughing all of a sudden and, and... She can't breathe, even! It's so horrible and I'm at my wit's end..."
Vanessa looks the frantic mother in the face and then glances over Flynn. She wordlessly feels at the girl's throat and checks her mouth. Her grey eye flickers with a little recognition.
"Hold on a second... I think I might have something..."
She closes the door and comes back seconds later with a small, stoppered vial of something black with luminescent turquoise bits floating in it.
"Open up, this will make you feel better..." Vanessa carefully lets a drop drip from the small opening of the vial onto Flynn's tongue, "Alright, don't cough it out... hold it and swallow..."
Flynn does so with difficulty. To Marlene's amazement, her breathing eases up. Flynn still coughs a little and is a bit wheezy, but she sounds much better now.
"Oh Gods, thank you... Thank you so much Vanessa!" Marlene is breathless with gratitude welling up in her eyes.
Vanessa seems to be scrutinizing Flynn for a moment before nodding at Marlene's profuse thanks, "... I am... glad I could help. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
The apothecary sighs, "It's been a very long day."
"O-oh, of course, of course!" Marlene bows several times. Vanessa closes the door and the owner escorts her out. In her arms, Flynn seems thoroughly tired out and sleepy.
"Oh, Flynn... Thank the gods..." Marlene whispers back out on the streets.
"Mommy!" A familiar voice calls out to her.
Marlene looks to see Ellen running over to her with that scruffy stranger from earlier following. The two of them are breathless.
"Ellen? Why aren't you at home?" Marlene gawks at her child out on this street and then at Alfyn, "And... you again?!"
"I got Alfyn to come help Flynn!" Ellen insists, pointing at Alfyn, "He's a, uh, pock-berry, too!"
"Ma'am, I just heard from Ellen that Flynn was..." Alfyn starts.
"Perfectly fine," Marlene cuts him off, "Thanks to Vanessa. The girl is a miracle worker...! Come on, Ellen, let's go home...!"
Ellen doesn't have time to be upset when she sees Flynn sleeping peacefully in their mother's arms, "Flynn's okay now?"
"Yes, you shouldn't go and find strangers like that, Ellen," Marlene sighs as she chides her daughter. She still regards Alfyn with a bit of a chill, "I'm sorry if my daughter interrupted your evening. But, as you can see, we are fine without your help. Good night."
Marlene goes to start walking home, "Come on, Ellen."
Ellen pouts a little but waves to Alfyn as she goes to follow her mother. They pass Therion as the thief walks over, having searched in another direction. The thief wordlessly walks over to Alfyn after glancing their way.
"... Found them?" Therion asks rhetorically.
"Haha, yeah. Her mum had the whole situation under control though... and Vanessa helped again!" Alfyn laughs good-naturedly despite the brusque treatment from the woman twice, "Ellen an' Flynn sure are lucky to have her as a mum!"
"Hmf," Therion folds his arms, "You really should think twice then before thinking you need to help them."
"Eh, that's mean, Therion..."
Ophilia, H'aanit, and Linde walk over now from another direction of the manor district. They had split up to search more efficiently.
"By the Flame, I think I saw Ellen with her... was that her mother?" Ophilia asks, "Thank the gods, it looked like the danger had been averted!"
"Ah, yeah, thanks to Vanessa. Gee, I really am curious!" Alfyn folds his arms with a smile, "I really wanna meet 'er and get to know what awesome herbs she's got! She sounds like an amazing apothecary...!"
"Well, you're nothing to sneeze at either, Alfyn!" Ophilia nods enthusiastically, "But I think it's a great idea to learn from others of your craft!"
H'aanit nods, "I haven learned much of natural cures frome other hunters."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking!" Alfyn looks to the Hilltop, "Maybe I'll see if I can catch her on her way out in the morning, hehe."
"Whatever," Therion feigns a yawn, "Let's go back already. This was a waste of time..."
…
Primrose opens her eyes for the third time that night. She hadn't been asleep, not truly. Since Stonegard, her sleep has been rather light. In the dark illuminated by slight rays of the moon, she glances down to look at the mark on her chest. The rose vine hasn't extended... but a worrisome twin has grown on the other side now. Both vines extend from the origin like branches.
Great... She sighs. It's to be expected. First was that run-in with whatever happened back in Stonegard with Cyrus and that Yvon person... and then that strange interaction with the blood crystal... it all felt somehow like it resonated with something inside her.
For a second, she thought she heard a voice call to her from the night. It sounded strangely familiar... and yet impossible.
"Prim..."
Father...?
It's not like it's never happened. Many a time back in Sunshade, when the nights in Helgenish's hall were particularly brutal, she would dream of hearing her father's voice again. She'd wake up and hear a lingering whisper, as if he were still calling her his beloved rose. It was a cruel trick of memory and often left her feeling more lonely than before.
But that's all just an illusion, surely. It's her innermost wishes that can never be fulfilled, yet still yearning. She had gotten over that by now, right?
It's been years... and yet parts of her still haven't changed.
Parts of her somehow remained still innocent... Or just naively wishing, still.
She lets out a soft sigh, cursing that inner weakness. Then, she hears it again. It sounds to be... outside...
Primrose gently slips from her bed that she's sharing with Therese. She hears the student mumble something about her beloved professor. The dancer smiles softly. In the other bed, she can see Tressa sleeping quite messily, counting numbers in her sleep.
The dancer steps quietly, not creaking a single floorboard, as she exits the room. The rest of the inn is quiet. As she passes, she's surprised to see the door to Ophilia and H'aanit's room open. Inside, she can see the huntress and leopard sleeping.
"...?"
She exits the quiet inn and sees the cleric standing in the pale moonlight near the road before the wall overlooking the waves. It glances off her golden hair and pale nightgown. Primrose's eyes widen when she sees that Ophilia's arms, with the gloves off, are covered with white marks that glimmer like snow in the light.
For a second, Primrose's breath is taken away.
"... hm? Oh!" Ophilia turns and sees the dancer. At that moment, the two of them noticed each other's glowing eyes.
Primrose's have a reddish light while Ophilia's have a white glow.
"P-Prim!" Ophilia hurriedly hides her hands behind her back, "Uh, y-you couldn't sleep either?"
"... I didn't know you had trouble sleeping," Primrose recomposes herself easily, "... What are those on your arms?"
"Oh, uh... just, old scars," Ophilia laughs it off, "Sorry, they... aren't the most seemly."
Primrose bats an eye slightly at the comment and goes to walk up beside Ophilia, but a few steps away. The two of them stand near the sea wall, where the waters now crash down below in high tide. The moon is high in the sky.
"You shouldn't have to care if your scars look nice or not, dear," Primrose sighs, "They're yours. If you don't own them, someone else will."
"Huh?" Ophilia blinks, "I... I'm afraid I don't understand..."
The dancer rolls her eyes a little with an amused smile dancing on her lips, "Well, you're a meek one. Those are usually the slowest to understand these things, in my experience."
"... I'm just not... comfortable showing these... when I don't even know what they are myself," Ophilia sighs, "I've had them since I was little."
"All the more reason you don't need to seem so ashamed of them then," Primrose scoffs, "They aren't your doing."
"Ah..." Ophilia is silent for a moment as she gazes at the dancer in the moonlight. She notices the dancer's eyes are no longer red. Had she imagined it?
"...It figures... I'm hearing voices," Primrose sighs irritably. She mumbled it so softly that Ophilia almost didn't hear.
"You heard something, too?" The cleric asks with some eagerness.
"... What do you mean? You..." Primrose looks to Ophilia with a start. If this cleric also heard her father's voice...
"I thought for sure that I heard my- er, I mean, His Excellency's voice... But that's an impossibility. His Excellency is back in the Frostlands..." Ophilia tries not to sound so sad saying that, "I... I suppose I was just homesick..."
"... Well, I certainly didn't hear that," Primrose sighs. For a second, she might have gotten her hopes up that someone else could affirm that voice of her father... But that's also impossible. He's dead and the dead do not ever return...
"...Ah, we should return to rest then..." Ophilia turns to go back inside, "I suspect it will be quite busy... in helping the locals. Uhh... are you interested in that sort of thing, Miss Prim?"
The girl is no one overtly abrasive or malicious. She's just a timid and naïve little lamb. Primrose sighs.
"I'll be fine however it turns out, my dear. Perhaps I'll just help Alfyn a little... or scout around for some information I seek," The dancer lightly tucks a stray strand of hair in place, "You best worry on what you're going to be doing about this pestilence."
"Yes... I could have sworn the voice from earlier told me to look east... But I don't know for what..." Ophilia says softly as she looks in that direction.
East out of Goldshore no longer connects to any main roads. It goes out towards various formations of stone that hide caves and grottoes. The south of Goldshore is the same. Supposedly, the south was once part of the main Goldshore city and extended further out to sea. Following natural disasters with the sea, much of it was destroyed and the city limits retreated to its current state. Plenty of monsters now inhabit that area.
"You'd best keep your wits about you then, and not fall prey to strange voices," Primrose chuckles as she walks back inside.
Ophilia considers her words with a pout before following.
In the distance, all over Goldshore, there is the sound of coughing that arises.
…
Alfyn stretches jovially, ready to face a new day. He makes sure the others all get breakfast before going out himself for the manor district.
To his surprise, there are lots of dismal faces in the streets; even more than yesterday. He slows his roll a little to listen along the main artery.
"... wouldn't stop coughing... so dreadful..."
"Aye, the wee one can scarce breathe. And I thought the fever was the worst of it, gods..."
Feverish symptoms were familiar enough. Alfyn had heard that was a large symptom more or less among those afflicted by the pestilence. Coughing that hard though... Respiratory distress, maybe even worse...
"Where is Vanessa?" Someone demands.
"She wasn't at her usual spot..."
"Likely out early gathering herbs or something... wherever she does it," Some passing apothecaries mutter. They look about ready to leave town.
"W- hey, where' you going?" Alfyn looks to the other apothecaries, "Aren't you guys gonna stay and help out?"
"It's an expensive cough. And people here are so used to Vanessa doing stuff for free... no thanks," One says.
"Yeah. Besides, nothing ever goes well if ya try to take Vanessa's business, either," Another one says offhandedly.
"Huh?" Alfyn blinks.
"Apothecary rumor, string bean," The first one shrugs, "Anyway, greener pastures lie elsewhere!"
"Yeah, we can cure some other place that's open to pay!"
Alfyn sees many of the faces of townspeople sour at these apothecaries. He remembered how they spoke of apothecaries working only for profit... His own pride as an apothecary stirs.
"Well, Vanessa's doin' her apothecary duty then...!" Alfyn announces, "You guys should, too!"
The apothecaries give him a bit of a stink eye. One of them gets belligerent, being as tall as Alfyn, "Get a load of this guy! Do you know how much it costs to live on the road these days?!"
"That doesn't mean we shouldn't help people...!" Alfyn shoots back, "Money shouldn't determine if you treat someone or not! You guys call yourselves apothecaries?!"
That seems to strike a nerve in the opposition. A vein visibly throbs on the temple of the belligerent one and he raises a fist to slug Alfyn, "Why you-!"
Alfyn barely braces for impact before a blur of purple slips between him and the incoming fist. The attacker feels his balance knocked off as something sweeps at his foot and flips his arm's trajectory backwards.
"Waugh?!"
Alfyn stares as the attacking apothecary lands on his bum. Therion stands before him, having moved as quick as the blink of an eye. He hadn't even seen the thief coming.
"Therion?" Alfyn blinks.
"Urgh, and who are you?!" The apothecary on the ground angrily spits. His friends hang back, wary of the person who just showed up in a purple poncho from seemingly nowhere.
Therion mentally chastises himself for having made a scene now by jumping from the background. It's never really his style, but he did so without thinking. No taking it back now, with everyone staring. Some of them whisper about what even just happened, as his movement was too brisk for them to have seen.
"... Cool it," The thief says simply to the man at his feet. It's almost impossible not to look a bit snarky saying that to someone you just knocked down, though.
"Grr...!" The toppled apothecary goes to stand.
Therion hurriedly pulls Alfyn with him away from the crowd without another word. He didn't need to risk a full-on tussle with the guy.
The thief pulls the apothecary from main street to a small alley off on the side, having lost the public eye. He scoffs and adjusts his poncho collar gingerly, keeping an eye out for any potential people following.
"... Thanks..." Alfyn sighs and scratches the back of his neck, "How'd ya know where I was?"
"You aren't hard to find, shouting at the top of your lungs like that," Therion scowls a little, "Why are you trying to pick a fight? This doesn't concern us. Just let the lady doctor do it."
"Vanessa's only one person! We can't just foist it all on her! I wanna help! Maybe learn a thing or two from her, too... but mostly help!" Alfyn says with such blinding candor.
Therion rolls his eye, "At least try not to make a scene then..."
"Hehe, I just got so angry... I can't stand thinking that ya wouldn't help someone just cuz they can't pay... That ain't right. And that definitely ain't what apothecaries do!" Alfyn proudly grasps the strap of his satchel, "Alright, I gotta go find Vanessa! They said she went out for herbs... I'll see if anyone's seen 'er!"
The thief watches as Alfyn marches off. Headstrong idiot. To his surprise, the apothecary turns around to face him.
"You coming?" Alfyn asks with a grin.
"..." Therion scoffs and looks away as his feet magically move to follow a few paces behind Alfyn.
It might be a good chance to get a look at how much this famous apothecary has on her, he reasons.
…
Tressa was serious about her idea to go scout the Caves of Azure that the old man had mentioned. Even if there weren't precious gemstones, her sense is giving her a small tug of direction there. Whatever it is, it'll surely be worth it.
"A cave?" Olberic wipes the sweat off his neck from training as he stands by the door, "You're going alone?"
"Of course not, dear Olberic," Primrose checks her nails, "Tressa, you did speak with the others, correct? Be sure to have someone coming with you."
"Geez, you're like a mom sometimes, Primrose," Tressa pouts and sighs, "Yeah, the professor's coming with me. He seemed mighty interested also in what could be there!"
Olberic doesn't look assuaged at all, "... It still sounds quite dangerous. And the professor is..."
Primrose laughs, "Why don't you just volunteer, Olberic. If you worry so, that would be the fastest method to get over it."
The warrior sighs, "Tressa, mayhap I should accompany you to this cave."
"Hm? Oh, you're just worrying. But, sure, why not," Tressa shrugs, "You can watch Cyrus!"
"Is Therese coming along?" Primrose raises an eyebrow, "Where did she go, anyway?"
"Oh, she's outside with the professor. She probably will come, since she's practically been glued to him this whole trip," The merchant girl checks her gear one last time before nodding, "Alright, I'm good to go!"
"Well, do be careful, I suppose..." Primrose sighs, "Sir Olberic has his work cut out for him."
The dancer struts out of the inn just to overhear Cyrus giving yet another history lesson.
"... Saloman, yes. He was the sage who supposedly ended the countries of both Bernstein and Granatt singlehandedly. This predates the nation of Hornburg, which rose pursuant to the marriage between Beowulf of Bernstein and-"
"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Tressa practically pushes past Primrose as she stomps out with her bag, "We don't have all day to chat!"
"Oh, but I was merely elucidating the fascinating history of the man who wrote the tome we seek...!" Cyrus looks to the merchant girl, "Tis a long tale involving the rings and such-"
"Ahaha, professor, I think Tressa is looking to leave posthaste," Therese chuckles.
Primrose smirks at Olberic as he emerges in his gear, "Good luck."
"Not going with them, Prim?" Simeon pokes his head out from the other room, "I might take a walk myself. These caves sound like very interesting places for inspiration, possibly!"
"Really?" Primrose masks her displeasure with a sigh, "... I guess I can spare some time. I was honestly hoping to enjoy some time at the beach before we have to go back north to those chilly Frostlands."
Olberic can guess he had something to do with ruining her last beach outing and awkwardly scratches his neck.
"This isn't going to be some simple walk!" Tressa folds her arms, clearly in charge, "We are going hunting! Treasure hunting!"
…
After asking around, Alfyn and Therion end up running into H'aanit and Ophilia near the main street to the west end of Goldshore, just short of the town entrance.
"Oh, hey, Lia!" Alfyn waves, "What's up?"
"Alfyn!" Ophilia waves back, "We were just looking for some apothecaries that might want to work with the church efforts to calm the current plague... apparently, a lot of the fevers were taken care of... only to be replaced by a horrible cough!"
"A cough, huh..." Alfyn seems to think a second, "Yeah... that sounds about right from what we heard too, right, Therion?"
The thief grunts. It's not affirmative nor denying.
"Yes, apparently it was so severe for some that they can scarcely breathe..." Ophilia sighs with worry, "The young and elderly are particularly vulnerable to this... Some are in such pain that they almost could be dying..."
H'aanit looks to Alfyn, "Havest thou heard of any news?"
"Yep, we heard all about it... but if yer talking about a cure... nah, I got nothing so far..." Alfyn folds his arms, "It sounds way more serious than some whooping cough, ya know? That was a big thing for the young 'uns back in Rippletide for a bad season or two... but it wasn't like this at all... Maybe a variant...?"
Therion stares a bit at Alfyn thinking so hard. It wasn't that he found the apothecary stupid. It's just rare to see Alfyn so deep in just concentration rather than running around trying to treat something. He does have some foresight after all.
"Well, anyway...!" Alfyn looks up now, "We heard Vanessa was gatherin' some herbs right about outside the town limits! She's a great apothecary, so I figure I might try an' ask her for some pointers, maybe exchange shop, ya know?"
H'aanit nods, "Tis prudent... mayhap she knoweth the flora of local growth."
"Oh, I would like to come with you then, Alfyn!" Ophilia nods, "Maybe I could talk to this Vanessa as well!"
The four of them wander out the familiar way they had entered the town. The road to Goldshore is largely sandy paths among rocks, and a few grassy patches near the coastal terrain. Beachgrasses sprout here and there, but not so much to really anchor the sands. There are few trees here, save some palms.
"Hmm..." Alfyn looks here and there with his hand shading his eyes as he tries to spot the apothecary, "Can't have gone too far, I'd think..."
"Hmm... Linde, hast thou any scent?" H'aanit glances to her partner. The snow leopard paws at the sand and seems more content to maybe nap. The huntress sighs, "Thou art too content in this sun."
"There," Therion spots a familiar color of purple by a dune and points. Sure enough, they can see a head of long hair by the high beachgrasses.
"Oh, hey!" Alfyn immediately goes to romp over, waving enthusiastically.
"...?!" Vanessa jumps at the sound of his voice, seemingly stowing something away quickly before turning to look, "H-huh? Who..."
"Oh, sorry! Musta scared ya, haha, whoops!" Alfyn chuckles as he approaches with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, sorry! I just got too excited, haha..."
"Um... who are you?" Vanessa looks Alfyn up and down apprehensively. She spots his satchel, "... an apothecary?"
"Yep! Aw shucks, I didn't introduce myself, did I..."
Therion, H'aanit, Linde, and Ophilia approach now as Alfyn is giving out his name. H'aanit looks the other woman over. Vanessa's hair is down at the moment, looking a little messy... maybe she had just gotten out of bed? Her long bangs still cover one of her eyes. She's wearing a simple taupe dress with a dark shawl draped over her shoulders. She's wearing a pair of dark gloves and has a pair of clippers in one hand. And, of course, she has the apothecary satchel slung over her shoulder. She's wearing heavy all-terrain boots on her feet... though those might be a bit of a hindrance in these sands.
"... I'm Alfyn! Alfyn Greengrass!" Alfyn sticks out his hand in a friendly gesture, "Nice to meet ya! You're Vanessa, right? Golly, I heard a lot about you!"
"... Flattered," Vanessa seems to relax just a little after the initial surprise. She doesn't take his hand, "All good things, I hope."
"Yeah, yeah! The folks got nothing but good stuff to say about ya!" Alfyn chuckles, "You've been doing great work, helping out with the illnesses and all! And without taking any coin... Great minds think alike!"
Vanessa sighs a little, "Well, thank you... Sorry if I seem rude but... I'm busy."
Therion glances near Vanessa's vicinity. There's another set of tracks in the sand... they seem a bit fresh to be from too long ago. There are also some cut plants near her... that would explain the clippers. Was she gathering with someone? The thief says nothing.
"Of course, gotcha," Alfyn nods and retracts his hand, "I'm sure ya heard about the whole cough going around now, huh."
"... Right, with fevers broken, now there's a cough going around..." Vanessa nods, "I'd heard in the morning. I have my work cut out for me."
"Already got an idea for a cure?" Alfyn grins, "That's amazing! You're definitely outta my league... I wanna help, too! If it ain't too much to ask... could I get a look at your pharmaceutics?"
For a second there, Ophilia thought she saw something like fear in Vanessa's eyes.
Vanessa clutches her bag a little away from Alfyn with a nervous smile, "... I beg your pardon?"
"Oh, I was just thinking how much I could learn from you! You've got a head for this... and you're just like the apothecaries I imagine... you don't do this for coin, do ya? Same as me!" Alfyn nods to himself, "I could really learn a thing or two from ya! Anything ya gotta teach, I'm all ears!"
"Ah..." Vanessa doesn't loosen her grip on the bag, though she does seem to scoff a little more relaxedly, "Apologies but... I cannot disclose my methods... especially not to others within the same industry, I'm afraid..."
H'aanit raises an eyebrow, as does Linde. The cat's tail curls up inquisitively.
Therion obscures his own displeasure. This woman... is full of shit.
But Alfyn takes it for face value and laughs a bit, taking no offense.
"Ah, okay, okay, I get it. No problem! Sorry for prying, honestly," He raises his hands, "We all gotta keep food on the table, at the very least."
Vanessa blinks a bit and then pats her own bag, "... I'm sure you will learn on your own. You strike me as a very diligent person..."
"I mean, yeah, if I can't get a teacher... life'll teach! That what Gretas usually said, haha!" Alfyn grins good-naturedly, "Plus, I'll keep you in mind to get better!"
"I'm flattered," Vanessa nods and lets out a soft breath, "I'm about to go back to town then... It was nice meeting you, Mr. Greengrass."
"Hey, call me Alfyn! Any apothecary like you's a friend!" Alfyn laughs.
Ophilia can't help but notice how the woman's eye was so... shifty as she looks at Alfyn and then at something else on the side.
"... I see," Vanessa sighs, "Well, I'll be going then, Alfyn... I've gathered enough grasses here. If you want, do try your hand on these. The salt in the air and water makes for different kinds of growths that you wouldn't find anywhere else... Ah, but enough of my trade secrets."
Alfyn gives a hearty laugh as Vanessa gives him a wink and passes them all, walking back to Goldshore. Therion frowns a bit as he watches her leave. She's like the dancer, hiding her emotions in plain sight. However, she's not as good. He can call her bullshit easier than with Primrose. To his surprise, he sees the cleric also looking at the retreating apothecary.
"Alright!" Alfyn slaps a fist into his palm, "She'd said to start around here, right? I'll see if I can't make the cure myself from scratch! Might even be a new recipe, hehe!"
The eager apothecary gets to digging around the sands for roots and looking through the grasses. Therion makes a face when he sees Alfyn testingly chew some of the grass.
"Don't get sick yourself, idiot," The thief sighs as he goes to just sit on some nearby driftwood to observe.
"Haha, no worries there! I haven't been sick since I was a wee one!" Alfyn boasts.
"It's good he has such high spirits," Ophilia chuckles, "Ah, allow me to help!"
"I willen as well... Though I muste admit, tis terrain be'en not mine typical hunting ground..." H'aanit goes to see if she can assist as well.
Linde yawns and curls up near Therion's side on the driftwood log lodged in the sand. Overhead, gulls squawk in the daylight and the waves lap at the sands in the distance. The thief sighs and lets himself tune out the bickering over beachgrasses.
He doesn't easily forget though and looks to the sand prints that were near Vanessa. They haven't been moved yet.
Something about those prints, coupled with that woman's facetious nature, told Therion she wasn't here just for herbs and a simple rendezvous.
…
After about an hour of digging around and listening to Alfyn whistle or exclaim at some minor discovery, Therion is glad to finally be getting off the beach. Satisfied with what he's found, Alfyn is eager to return to the inn and mix up some concoction quick for some tests.
"How do you test these tinctures?" Ophilia asks curiously as they walk back, "It sounds rather risky to use an unknown draught on someone who is ill..."
"Oh, well, we gotta try it a bit ourselves first and then uh... Yeah, we gotta find someone willing to take it. But that's why you gotta be confident in what ya make!" Alfyn pats his bag, "That's my pride as an apothecary!"
They return to the town, where people seem more agitated than before. Loud, harsh coughing can now be heard even outside on the streets, emanating from the houses. Some are so continuous that one might think someone was coughing up their very lungs.
"Egads... Alright, gotta get to work!" Alfyn hurries back to their room at the inn, "Don't wait up for me, alright guys?"
Therion folds his arms and sighs. Ophilia goes to follow Alfyn and help in any way she can. H'aanit glances as the cleric leaves and sighs. Linde makes a low growl, looking towards the sandy beach nearby.
"..."
Therion takes his leave from the huntress and walks away first. But, to his annoyance, Linde follows him; and H'aanit follows in tow. He walks back towards the manor district.
"... What?" He turns to glance at Linde. The cat merely yawns at his scowl.
"It seemeth that Linde hath a liking taken to thee," H'aanit says simply.
"Great, just what I needed," Therion scratches his head with a sarcastic scoff, "What does a big cat see in me anyway?"
H'aanit glances to her partner before looking back to the thief, "Tis her feelen. Not mine."
Therion scoffs and continues walking with the two following. They come to the manor district square. Instead of the usual midday deals from the sellers, the familiar Vanessa is commanding the attention of a crowd. She looks to have changed into her normal work clothes. The people hanging on to her every word seem to be a mix of nobility in rich clothes.
"Good people of Goldshore, please pay heed to my word," Vanessa says loudly, "It has become alarmingly clear that a new pestilence has come in place of the previous fever. And this cough is even more ravaging than the last illness."
"Miss Hysel, you must simply come immediately! My husband won't stop coughing!" One woman exclaims, clutching her pearls.
"Nor my son!"
The crowd grows in volume of pleas. Therion could swear he saw the glint of satisfaction in Vanessa's eyes.
"Yes, I am aware... this malady is known down south as the Gaborra whooping cough, I believe," Vanessa nods, "It is not a simple malady... nor is the cure."
"Please, you must have something!" Someone exclaims.
Linde's ears perk and her nose twitches. She looks to the side, where a woman seems to be hanging back from the crowd. Therion and H'aanit follow her gaze. Therion recognizes that poor-looking washer woman as the one who had walked away from Alfyn with Ellen...
So that's the mother, eh?
"Worry not, for I was able to concoct a new tonic that will cure this malady quickly," Vanessa dramatically announces. She brings out a vial from her bag. It looks to be very small, filled with something dark. The thief's sharp eyes can make out the bits of something colorful floating inside.
"What is that? It looks... so strange! Black as an ebon night and yet... also sparkling?" Some of the townsfolk stare.
"This will cure my husband?" The lady steps forward with desperation clear in her eyes.
"Yes. I had brewed this specially from some rare moss that is extremely difficult to find. It grows only in a special and treacherous environment..." Vanessa blinks slowly, "As such, I'm afraid this tonic carries a substantial fee with it."
"Name your price!" An arrogant nobleman steps forward with a cane, "Money is no object! My daughter's life is at stake!"
Vanessa pauses dramatically before announcing, "One hundred thousand a phial."
Silence falls. Many gasp. Some step back in shock, including the arrogant nobleman.
"One thousand..." H'aanit bats an eye and mutters, "Tis too high, surely..."
The huntress had almost never even heard of such a sum. The most she had been told of a hunt's worth was no more than a thousand...
"The labor of procurement, as well as the brewing process, is quite strenuous and so I cannot simply give this away, you understand..." Vanessa says with an expression mimicking resignation. Therion narrows his eye.
"T-that is substantial..." The arrogant nobleman adjusts his cravat, as the number made him sweat, "Is it... truly as potent as you say?"
Vanessa nods, "It will cure the cough as fast as overnight."
People gasp and fan themselves. The thief watches some of them appear more reluctant. Others finger their purses. One hundred thousand... even for the rich, it is not a sum to be scoffed at. They weren't rich barons, just better off than the average peasant.
"I-I'll do it!" A woman steps forward with a hand on her shawl and purse, "That price is a meager sacrifice for health!"
"I shall as well! I will pay any sums for my daughter!" The nobleman announces.
"If it's from you, Vanessa, the quality must be worthwhile... I'll take two!" Another one says.
Soon, people are coughing up these enormous sums to Vanessa. Because the coinage of leaves can be quite cumbersome in such amounts, they use bank notes, which are usually reserved for, one, the people who can afford to have a bank account, and two, sums of leaves above ten thousand. While the thief was one who was commonly around exorbitant sums, even this was a bit over his head. All these notes of money...
"Um...!"
Therion, H'aanit, and Linde turn to see the washerwoman approach Vanessa. She's clutching a small satchel to her chest.
"Hm?" Vanessa looks her way over the rabble surrounding her.
"Might I buy some of the medicine?" The washerwoman asks a bit shrilly, "I... I haven't enough for a full vial but...! You gave my Flynn some of that last night, right? Her cough has unfortunately returned..."
Some of the nearby townspeople hear her plea and raise an eyebrow or two. Vanessa had given this to someone else... and it didn't work? A slight hush falls over the initial rush for the medicine.
Vanessa sighs irritably, "...What I gave your daughter was a preliminary draught. This is the finished product."
"Then, please! I-I bought my life savings... Surely, this is enough for at least a sip?" The washerwoman pleads as she opens her satchel to Vanessa. Therion can hear the clink of coin within... but it can't be much. He sees Vanessa barely bats an eye at the woman's gesture of desperation.
"... I'm sorry. This draught was quite arduous to create... I cannot just give it away so cheaply," Vanessa looks away dismissively, "Does anyone else who can pay want one?"
"But, but..." The washerwoman tries to muster up an appeal. She is roughly shoved aside by some more eager buyers. Tears visibly well up in her eyes as she is ignored by the rabble, "Oh, my Flynn..."
H'aanit watches as the sorrowful woman runs from the square now. She folds her arms and glances to Therion at her side.
"There be'en something strange eren' this cure... and Vanessa," H'aanit blinks slowly at Vanessa merrily collecting from the crowd, "It doth not feelen... sincere."
"Duh..." Therion sighs, "Let's go see what the miracle worker's got."
…
In the inn, Alfyn is hurriedly cross-referencing several plants and their parts with logged items within Zeph's compendium of herbology. His brow scrunches and twists this way and that as his noodle is clearly working to figure out the possible combinations with his new bounty.
"Hmm... not many of these make a lotta headway on a cough... fever, maybe? But it's missing something..." He mutters here and there.
"It's too bad that Vanessa wouldn't share any advice with you..." Ophilia sighs, "I think it would be more beneficial for you all to work together and cure this town!"
"Haha, yeah, that would be great. I mean, she's respectable as is, Lia. Better than those money-grubbing apothecaries from before..."
His hand slips and a puff of the soothing dust he was working on explodes in his face, "Ah!"
"Alfyn, are you okay?" Ophilia looks over in alarm.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Alfyn wipes at his face a little as he laughs it off, "I'll go out and wash my face a bit..."
After assuring Ophilia, the apothecary stumbles out of the inn a bit to the watering hole on the side. As he finishes washing his face with the basin, he looks up to see Marlene walk past the inn. She doesn't see him, as she looks to be dejectedly dragging her feet. There is a notable slump in her shoulders.
"... Huh?" Alfyn recognizes her, "Wonder what's wrong..."
He hurriedly dries off his face on his shirt and goes to tell Ophilia that he would be taking a walk before walking after Marlene.