[Job Thread-Stormhold Salves] Gainfully Employed

[Caweyre]

Season of Winter, Day 74, 512 AV Caweyre had spent a good deal of his youth in Charbosi's houses of healing working with his mother as she tended to the elderly, and those unfortunate enough to run afoul of the dangers of the deep waters. While certainly no expert, he had always been a quick study when it came to mixing salves, and making ointments. If nothing else, he could follow instructions, and took to the work with deadly seriousness. His only other real skill was tending the undersea plants his people ate. Thus, after leaving Traveler's Row early in the afternoon to seek employment, his first logical step was to check the apothecaries of the city. He had no luck with the first two establishments he visited. Their well ordered shelves seemed not to fit his nature, and their proprietors seemed dubious about his lack of credentials. It was with heavy heart that he opened the doors of Stormhold Salves. Stepping inside, he was greeted to the sort of chaos that suited a Charodan's sensibilities. The sunlight streaming through the windows made his skin tingle warmly. He even liked the smell, recognizing in it some of the rarer herbs of the seas. Mistress Sahfri, the owner of the shop, put him to work almost before he'd finished asking. He was rushed into the back room, and immediately given a large basket full of unfamiliar roots to crush between mortar and pestle. Sahfri was a driven taskmistresses, but pleasant to interact with once she saw the quality of his work. After a few hours and questions about his knowledge, she set him to re-organizing, and re-labeling a messy cabinet shelf cluttered with an assortment of venom from various undersea creatures. When he'd completed the task she sent him on his way, and told him he was free to return upon the morrow. It was only on his walk home, a bright smile upon his face, that it occurred to Caweyre that he hadn't bothered to inquire about his wages.

[Caweyre]

Season of Winter, Day 79, 512 AV This day found Caweyre running errands around the city to various other shops for supplies. Bottles for salves, oil for the small lamps they used in the store, and a plethora of other items were on the list. Mistress Sahfri wrote quickly, and messily. It took Caweyre some time to decipher her writing, and even more time to navigate the city. He hated asking for directions, and walking was unnatural and tiring for him. His boots rubbed against his skin, and irritated it. He felt nervous carrying a small bag of the shop's coin upon his person. If he were mugged, his personal savings wouldn't cover half of it, and he couldn't figure out why anyone would trust such a newcomer with so much tinder. In reality, it was very little money to the shopkeeper. When he returned to the Stormhold salves, it was well past dark. His usual quitting time was hours ago. Sahfri seemed not to notice. He would have to skip immersing himself in the ocean to get home safely before the darkest portion of night swept over the city.

[Caweyre]

Season of Winter, Day 83, 512 AV Today, Cawyere spent ten hours mixing, bottling, and packing a bulk order of salves headed for Riverfall. It was long, repetitive, and arduous work. He tried his best to keep his mind on what he was doing, but his gaze kept slipping out the doors for brief glimpses of sunlight. Somehow, this isn't the life he'd imagined for himself in the city. Then again, he'd had no idea what to expect. Mix the salve, pour it in the bottle, label the bottle, put it in the box. The mixture could not be prepared in bulk because the ingredients would settle, creating some flasks which were too concentrated, and some which were too weak. After one layer was completed, and in the box, he lined it with a think layer of straw. Then, he started another layer. He had never been so bored in his life. At least in the fields back home, he'd had his fellow Charodans to sing with. Their comlicated melodies, and harmonies kept their busy minds occupied while they watched the plants grow, and tended to the coral.