Stepping out of her cabin in Tuliyollal, Rifka went to the aetheryte and hopped over to the Crafter's Lane. Estinien had brought her a beautiful, greenish-blue stone for her birthday, which was in just a few days, and she had it in her mind to make a cage and a chain for it.
After picking up the materials she wanted, she headed up the stairs to check on Rral Soj and Papawni. The tall, fuchsia-furred Hrothgar had just lifted her hand in a wave when a brightly dressed Hyur suddenly stepped between them.
"A moment of your time, if you would, milady?" He smiled hopefully.
Her ears flicked back and Rifka regarded the man warily. He seemed to be dressed like a Pelu-Pelu merchant, but he was interrupting her birthday crafting, so she was feeling less than charitable. "What do you want?"
"Oh! Well, you look like a woman of fine, discerning tastes," he smarmed, attempting boldly to butter her up. He did not seem to realize he was putting her guard up even higher.
Rifka winged her scarred eyebrow, an expression she knew tended to make certain kinds of folks nervous. "Uh huh…?" She leaned on the second syllable, prompting him to get to the bloody point.
The man gulped and took the hint, sweeping his arms to indicate the cart beside him. Standing on the other side of the cart was another man, his arms crossed and his expression even crosser. Rifka glanced the man over – a Hrothgar of dark fur and bright stripes, and deep, dark eyes. As their gazes met, he uncrossed his arms with an exasperated sigh.
"He's probably dragging you into our business to act as an unbiased mediator, I'm very sorry."
"Hmm…" Rifka brushed a hand over her hair absently, "I've been asked to do such things before, I'm not unaccustomed to it." She glanced between the two men. "What seems to be the issue?"
The Hrothgar introduced himself as Mikhilsch and swept a hand at the cart between them. "This man is claiming to be a Master Craftsman, but he's peddling nothing but third-rate trash, near as I can tell! I bought a necklace from him yesterday, beautiful silver thing, and this is what my wife woke up with this morning!"
He produced the chain, no longer silver at all in some places, but very clearly green and brown. Rifka sighed at the sight of it. She knew what that meant. "Ah… silvertone… And do I assume correctly he sold you this item as genuine silver?"
"He sure did! Which is why I tracked him down again as quickly as I could and demanded my money back! The chain was supposed to be a birthday gift!"
"Oh?" A fellow Warden? Rifka was starting to feel invested in this argument. "Well, we can't let that be ruined now, can we?" She looked at the peddler, then at the cart full of wares, and slowly stepped closer. She reached into her hip bag and dug around for a moment before she found her Traveler's Goldsmithing kit. She slipped on a pair of glasses with special lenses and noticed the peddler flinching quite obviously.
"Ah," he gulped, "what are you doing, milady?"
"Are you sweating, Master Craftsman?" She purred tauntingly. He didn't need to answer, she could smell it. She picked up an item that might have piqued her own interest, a silver filigree bracelet with little blue stones. She held it in her fingertips, turning it from side to side. Unwrapping her kit, she slid out a slender metal tool and struck it gently against the bracelet.
The tool rang out, but the tone was dull and weak. Everyone able to hear it made a face and glanced over.
"What's he made that bracelet with, lead?" The question came from Papawni, of all people, before Rral could cover her mouth to stop her.
"H-how dare you!" The peddler gasped.
"He might as well have," Rifka murmured thoughtfully. She rubbed the metal of the bracelet between her fingers, and noticed the silver was already beginning to flake away, turning her fingerpads green. "I don't think I need to see anything else." She looked at the peddler as she slowly removed her glasses and tucked them carefully away. "Costume jewelry is fine for some, but those of us with acidic skin… This ser's wife and myself for example… We dissolve the very pretty coating with depressing speed. It requires us to spend a little extra coin to ensure our jewelry is of high quality."
"Wha-what are you saying?" Whimpered the peddler.
Rifka cut her eyes to him again in a mildly impatient glare. "I'm saying, give this man his money back, and then mark your wares correctly from now on. If I catch you lying about what these things are made of, I will deal with you myself."
The peddler bristled indignantly. "How dare you!" He cried again. "Who do you think you are?"
"I thought you might ask that." Rifka reached into her bag again and withdrew a very specific stone. Flawless white marble, etched with an expert's hand, the lettering perfectly embellished with gold ink.
"That's the Heart of a Goldsmith," the Hrothgar breathed, "A Grandmaster's marker!"
"A what?" The peddler squeaked.
Rifka gently put the marker away, chuckling quietly. "You're probably regretting attempting to grab a random stranger in the middle of Crafter's Lane," she told him. "I was just on my way to speak to those two ladies over there." She motioned to the Blacksmith and her fellow Goldsmith. "And either one of them would have clocked your nonsense just as quickly as I." She turned to fix the peddler with a very serious gaze. "Are you going to give him back his money? Or do I have to stop being professional?"
He gulped again, and suddenly looked at her with a far more discerning gaze. For effect, she braced her legs and put her fists up, and he paled quickly when he realized she was not the kind of random stranger he had been hoping for.
"Y-yes! Yes of course! I'm so sorry, please. Here," he handed back a sack of coins, and the tall Hrothgar quietly began counting the funds within while the peddler wrang his hangs. "I'll mark my wares clearly, for the future. I swear!"
Rifka winged a brow again and nodded firmly. "See that you do." She folded her arms and stood comfortably as he packed his things and hurried off. Once he was gone, Mikhilsch let out a heavy sigh. "Thank you for your assistance…"
Rifka smiled up at him cheerfully. "No problem at all. What will you do now?"
"Well, I do need to replace my wife's birthday gift. Preferably with something made from an actual artisan."
Rifka swept her hand gracefully toward Papawni and smiled over at the young woman. "If you have time, I suggest you consider commissioning this woman here. Her skills and attention to detail are second to none at all."
"Second only to you, you mean!" Papawni shot back, blushing brightly from Rifka's praise.
Rifka muffled a laugh behind her knuckles, and Mikhilsch laughed as well. "If a Grandmaster vouches for her, then I will do as you suggest!" He turned to stroll over to Rral and Papawni, and Rifka snickered happily to herself as the bartering for a delicate, handmade silver chain began.
Speaking of handmade chains. Rifka jiggled her pack to remind herself that she had been on a task! Sighing happily, she headed back to her cabin to work.
