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Vermillion carried what looked like a bolt of cloth, and of course he got some strange looks from many folks on the street. Vermillion was pretty much dressed for the night in an all black monks robe with the hood shielding his face from view by others. The cloth he wrapped his latest work in was a bright blue in color, and at the request of the customer which was part of his way of know the drop was to be made.

Vermillon walked into the agreed upon pub, and setting his cloth down beside his stool he sat down waiting for the bartender to come down and ask for his order.

"one slice of heavy burnt toast, and a large mug of ale." Vermillion turned his head slightly but not enough for him to visually see Vaine. He straightened his head back to where it was, and fished out several coins to pay for what he ordered.

Vermillion's eyes followed the woman back through the door to the kitchen, and noted she wasn't his contact. The contact he was looking for was wearing a shade matching what it was wrapped in, which would be an odd color for a man to be wearing unless it was a hat. Vermillion didn't think the man was that loud a dresser when he found his shop on the mountain. Then again it was the insanity of the flatland that drove him up the mountain. He waited for his toast, patiently, surprised the barkeepr wasn't playing 20 questions to get his name.

Vermillion pulled a small bottle from inside his coat and a two small shot glasses, he unfolded a piece of cloth setting it aside, and breaking small piece of the charcoal toast he proceeded to grind it between his fingers into the first glass. He gripped the lid of the flask and looked left and right removing his hand from the lid to reached out and flick his finger snuffing out the two nearest candles.

Vermillion spoke up to not appear rude; "Anabel, I will stick with the name given by Ive, I'll go by Mysterious for now, and I do apologize for not answering right away." Vermillion opened the top and the smell of cherry blossoms filled the air along with the hint of strong alcohol. He poured the shot glass full that had the grindings in it. He capped the flask putting it away, and swirling the shot glass a few times he laid the cloth of the other. the carbon was filtered out, and he waited a few moments looking back down at Anabel.

"In the last few hours of light, when the orange of the setting sun begins to fade to a purple hue just before the stars come out. The twilight on the mountain is beautiful to see, as are you...." Vermillion tapped the side of the shot glass with his ring and the liquid turned slight orange before turning a deep purple. Vermillion secured his hand on the shot and drank it back quickly setting the glass down softly, picking up the remaining toast, and broke it in half to eat a large piece of it before consuming the whole glass of ale. the last of the toast disappeared after the ale. Vermillion put the glasses and cloth back into his coat.

He held out the same hand and waved his fingers back and forth once and the flame returned to the wick. He repeated the process with the other candle. "Do apologize for stealing you light, but nice smelling as it is, the fumes are volatile."

"The person who makes the whiskey tells a story as he makes it, he bottles that story, and shares it to the people. I simply drink to listen to a good story that sits waiting to be told, the stronger it is, the more you get to hear. I'm sure you can spin quite a yarn in a salad with the vegetables you grow. If I were to order a salad, what do you think it would tell me about you?"

Vermillion smirked; "One chapter a night is all I can handle, and you've lost nothing that you haven't gained back in sevenfold amounts. Wait one moment..."

Vermillion stood up and picked up the bolt of cloth and unrolled it, the polished scabbard, and gleaming metal of the hilt. The cutting off a cherry tree lay lighty tied with twine to the scabbard. Vermillion drew his own dagger and cut the twine holding it, and checking to make sure the twine around the small bag of water at the cut end was still tight he took his free hand and lifted Anabel's hand and closed two fingers against it to hold it. "From my personal tree, a white blossom, mountain cherry tree, and the hair roots have started already on the cut end. You will live to see it bloom with clear vision."

Vermillion leaned close to her ear whispering; "My name is Virgo Millus, the dragon of the mist, and this i ask you keep to yourself." Vermillion leaned back up, and he let go of her hand, to turn around and begin wrapping the sword back up tightly as before until the shape of it disappeared in the many turns of cloth.

Vermillion had just set the sword back down against the bar when its prospective recipient entered. Vermillion had to smile at the folded handkerchief that barely poked out of his pocket, how vain these people were about appearances when they had the choice to pick the color. Of course he made a mistake right away in reaching directly for the bolt of cloth, and Vermillion grabbed his arm tightly pulling him back upright. "I think we should talk first." He huffed out; "What is there to talk about, i asked of the dragon to build me this sword, and paid my weight in gold for it as the terms stated in our agreement." Vermillion rolled his eyes; "I'll ask only once, are you the one who found Vermillion's shop in the mist, be completely honest boy, as if your very life depended on it, because Vermillion does not build toys. If you wanted toys, you could have gotten it cheaper locally, these are swords personalized to the person. If you are not the swords true owner it will kill you."

The man reached for it again after shrugging off Vermillion hold on his arm. "I am that man, and that is the truth." Vermillion stood up and backed away a bit and made a motion for Ive to get back a ways as well. The man picked it up, and the velvet lining inside the scabbard made the draw quiet and smooth. The blade was polished to a mirror like finish, and the ancient enhancements were meticulously hand etched into the flats of the blade. "Well worth the wait."

Vermillion witness yet another foolish mistake, this one clearly showing this person had no common sense, but waving a sword around in a crowded area is dangerous even with standard steel. Vermillion put on a commanding tone, his tone was annoyed at best; "Boy, stop this foolishness before you injure someone, that is not some toy blade you practice with made of wood, that touches someone and cuts them the wound will bleed non stop." The man's childish nature at having something rare ended and he put the scabbard back on, but seemed to glare at Vermillion's hooded head for ordering him around like some child.

The truth came rather quickly as the man tried to remove his hand from the hilt but couldn't. He used his other hand for leverage, and it still wouldn't budge the veins began to rise to the surface in his hand. He looked at Vermillion with a hateful look; "What kind of trickery is this?" Vermillion pulled his hood back; "There is no trick, it was you who was trying to trick us, you are not the right gender to be the swords true owner, because the true owner approached Vermillion dressed as a man thinking Vermillion was against women carrying his weapons. I was instructed to be careful, and I did you warn you twice. Verix is going to hemorrhage you internally, but before you die may i ask what happened to the true owner?" "I killed her, women do not deserve such fine weapons..." Vermillion sighed putting his hood back up; "Jealously is one reason you are dying right now, and sadly such a fine weapon must be destroyed now." Vermillion took the large roll of cloth and wrapped it around the dying man, and slinging him over a shoulder he set set six high value coin on the bar. "For the disturbance I have caused your patrons." Vermillion carried the mumbling man out the cloth starting to stain in the head region first.

He carried the man to the cemetery, and Vermillion called out his own sword and cleaved the man and the sword in two. Destroying the enchantments on the sword and putting the man out of his misery. After he buried the man, Vermillion lowered his hood and began to walk around town searching amongst the gardens for one that would belong to a fairy. He eventually found it, admiring it from a distance as how well kept it was, and the flowers that were around the house were rather beautiful as well.