>Smile. "That would be excellent."
>?Excellent! This way!? she exclaims, thrusting a finger towards the street and immediately marching after it.
>It takes the two of you less than five minutes to arrive at the herbalist's, but two hours later you're still shopping. Half the ingredients were purchased immediately and without fuss, but the shop was out of sunthistle, its arlan wasn't fresh, and asking about bull's blood precipitates an enthusiastic rant against superstitious folk healers.
>?Just because our Lady Scarlet does it, doesn't mean drinking blood does a lick of good for anyone else, and mind I'm telling you!?
>While he pointedly refuses to assist in your search for that particular reagent, he grumblingly notes a competitor who might have the herbs in stock that he lacks. They do, but the arlan's price can be charitably described as 'galling', and bad enough to send you trekking to the other end of the city to find better. The silver dust is worst of all ? at least of the specific grade and preparation that Professor Bosqueverde's note calls for, which apparently hasn't been used for years. At least all it take is a quick detour to a grocer to get the honey for a pittance.
>By the time you finally track down the right type of feather, you feel like you're barely dragging your own feet around and the dizzying array of pungent chemicals from that last alchemist has left you more than a little nauseous. But you finally have everything, and an herbalist who was willing to prepare it for you tonight, and you're only 58 guilders poorer for it ? which honestly feels like a lot, but it's hard to put a price tag on your own life. You just need to cart all of this stuff back to her.
>?Are you alright?? Kyouko asks. She's been an awfully good sport all this time, never antsy or impatient as the minutes dragged into hours, helping lead you around the city and sometimes running quick scouting missions to do inventory checks with nearby shops. If it weren't for her functioning eyesight, you're sure you'd still be walking in circles around Prestor Lane, looking for that damnably camouflaged cul-du-sac. One wonders how they manage to stay in business while hiding from their own customers.
