Alcohol and Magic

[Eliro Darkcrest]

70th OF SUMMER, 515AV
6th BELL, EVENING
EAST STREET

The Summer sun was no where near ready to set as Eliro departed from the docks. She had been sober far too long, and the Kelp Beer that Zeltiva was famous, or notorious, for was enough to make her gag at the thought of it. Too much of the vile liquid had found it's way to her mug in the past season and the Svefra started to forget the taste of the more refined alcohol. Like Rum.

So naturally, when the Svefra caught whiff of a few better quality spirits in the sailor's hands, she had to find how to get her own hands on them. And thus, she ended up wandering inland towards the East Street, which had slowly become the most comfortable she could get without being in the Ocean.

"Ay Girlie! What do you want? We got whiskey, rum, barley beer... And I'm sure I could find a pretty thing like you a bottle of wine if you wanted." The lady who stood in the middle of the almost tent-like structure winked at her. The Svefra reached forward to pluck the first bottle of liquid from the counter in front of her.

"Hey now," The woman's sun-baked hands snatched the bottle from her own digits, the dark liquid disappearing from view. "I'll get'chya what you want. Let me know, Girlie"

"Something dark. Rum?" Eliro kept her sentences short. As if it wasn't already obvious enough by her ink and her lack of shoes that she was Svefra. Although whether the woman distrusted her because of the location of the flimsy establishment or by her race's reputation, she couldn't tell.

"Here we go. A spicy one for you, Girlie. All the way from the swamps of Kenash, I got it. Good quality." Eliro rolled her eyes. She wasn't entirely familiar with the west, but she did know Kenash was too far for such a cheap rum.

"Doubt it. Let me see it." She prodded. Holding an expecting hand out to the woman, eyeing the markings on the umber bottle.

"No, no, can't have that." The wrinkled woman grinned at her, trying to keep it pleasant but it was obvious she would not hand the bottle over.

"Fine, won't get it." She snapped in broken common, turning her hips so slightly.

"Ah, no, no. You don't want this one. Here, smell this one, it's closer to home." Eliro glanced back. Watching the woman pick up another bottle, but the vendor didn't hand it over.

"It's lighter."

"Cheaper too. You want?" Eliro huffed. She didn't care at this point. A bad rum couldn't be as bad as the Kelp Beer. It isn't as if could pretend to know much about the alcohol, there had rarely been a reason to drink it before coming back to Zeltiva.

"No argue. How much?" Eliro kept her sentences short so they made relative sense to the woman, propping a hand on her hip, irritation radiating from her posture.

[Fallon]

It was cooler today, least in the mind of Fallon. That or she had finally managed to become accustomed to the weather while the season drew to a close. Part of her internally groaned at such knowledge, a bitter understanding that by the time the summer came again she would once more become a shade clinger. Exhaling, the investigator shifted along the streets, shifting through a collection of notes she had jotted down into her book. It had been a message sent to her this morning on behalf of the Martial Society while they were about in East Street. Just some light ground work and investigating, followed by a brief outline of what was discovered. Nothing too taxing. So by the time mid-afternoon came round the woman began to make her move towards the district. It was in her mind however that she continued to work through what she had been told.

An unknown figure had set up a stall in East Street, something that partially amazed her due to the narrow roads that held the city as a whole anyway. Female, selling alcohol. Perhaps it was a merchant who had gotten lucky and managed to store up supplies from the previous season. It would certainly explain the source at least - but it still left the question on the entire legality of it. Beyond kelp beer and related produce, it was difficult to come across spirits of the sort. Perhaps they thought it was a smuggling job, or illegally obtained and that was why they wanted her to investigate. Pinching her brow Fallon simply pushed herself onwards. Why not just ask for details of purchase? If it was an import then there would be records in and out the city - unless it was not and instead mere fakes.

What a dilemma, she mused with her lips pulling into a grimace. Her gloved covered hand gave a tap upon the top of the kukri hilt, the orbs flickering as she checked through the notes once more. East Street had become increasingly more familiar of late and seemed to become a more natural environment in which to lurk. Calmer, less stifling, it seemed Sunberth still held some element of grasping upon her. Taking a turning off the main street she took the strides towards the water, hearing the gull cries somewhere in the distance. She could hear the faint chatter of voices and clinking. There was a harsher voice too, louder and more cutting than the others; it was only as she turned into one of the other streets that she saw whom the speaker was. Middle aged, the peaking of grey in her hair, skin weathered and tanned by wrinkles.

Fallon took a slower approach, quietly slipping in between the bodies, the note book being tucked away into her belt pouch, the eyes sweeping back and forth. It looked as if it was a quick pop up job, the table as if it would collapse if the legs were kicked, and a half loaded wheelbarrow with a few small kegs in it. Perhaps it was carted here? Impromptu indeed. Her eyes turned to the two who were conversing, eyes flickering between the younger tattoo covered. Her orbs paused on the dark lines, and then upwards to the face before she continued to move round, feigning some silent interest. It was as the pair conversed that Fallon placed a finger on the top of the bottle to inspect it.

Alcohol by the sounds of things. Dark green bottles sloshing with an even darker liquid - though some seemed to be clearer and hold a more golden sheen - Rum? Whiskey? Brandy? She ran out of names after that. The finger and thumb turned the bottle to inspect a seal that had been shaped into surface the bottle. Foreign, she did not know where it belonged to, her gaze turned then to the cork stopper with the cracked cap resting on the top of it. The lykata gave an itch, but she pushed the thought to one side as the snapping tone of the store owner grabbed her attention, "Take your hands off that."
"Oh?"
"You, take them off. If you want it, pay for it and I'll get'cha what you want."
Fallon raised an eyebrow, "And what exactly have you got here? Drink? What sort?"