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Taran looked up. Shingling was not hard work for him, nor was repairing them. After about an hour of sweat, he had managed to get three of the roof's repaired. He secreted a small gem away inside the roof, on top of one of the beams, for the owner to 'Discover.' Another deed well done. As he walked along the street to the inn, he saw a young man and a woman talking. According to the pot in front of him, the man was an alchemist. Taran had done some alchemy as his training, but it was a dangerous and difficult process. "What are you making, kind sir?" Asked Taran, leaning on his stick while the rain pattered down on his hood and robe.

"No, I'm just passing through, but if you have it, i need some Oil of Mighty Fists. Not many people do, mostly because of the ingredients required to get it. And what is your name?" The man leaned on the stick still, but the rain seemed to avoid him, never touching him, redirecting so that it didn't touch the robe.

She had been about to respond when the monk the children had been whispering about earlier had seemingly come out of absolute nowhere. She yiped and jumped away, eyes going slightly wide as her heart attempted to beat out of her chest. 'Sweet holy gods of nature and all that is good in the world, where in the name of heaven did he just come from?!' She demanded mentally as she forced herself to calm down. Getting so worked up like that so suddenly made her feel a little tired and hyper at the same time, but perhaps she could slip away if these two started talking?

She glanced at the man who called himself Farwind, then back at the monk, taking in the fact the rain avoided him with a slightly calmer mind now that she'd had her freak out moment of the day. Tyr was almost calm again when she managed to actually smile in an almost relieved way, somehow the strangness comforted her a bit. "My names Tyr Hawthorne..." She said lightly, just in case he had meant her too, and mentally she added, 'And if neither of you notice me after this I'm going to go home and hide under my blankets...'

Rajin looked upon the ruby with his one eye, checking the quality and craftsmanship from a distance. He had quite a few rubies in his possession, but none were of this size. It would make a nice addition to his collection. He looked up at Taran after checking the ruby thoroughly.

"Yes, that should do. Just one moment."

He then turned around and walked through the open door. He rummaged around for a moment and emerged with a wooden crate of a medium size, containing eight glass jars filled with a mysterious liquid.

"Eight jars filled with Oil of Mighty Fists. Anything else you need?"

Tyr shifted uncomfortably in the rain, twiddling her thumbs behind her back. How very strange all of this was... She eyed the ruby for a moment, mostly in wonder at it but partially because it was such a pretty color, and then she glanced over at Taran. "Um..." She wasn't sure if she should say anything right now, but she didn't think too much longer about it. "I'm the um, local librarian... I suppose... Uh, welcome to Anchorhold... and, I... hope you have a nice stay..." She said nervously, turning red in the face again as she took a step backward, clearly saying she would be leaving now if they didn't have anything else to say to her.

Tyr took this oportunity to back up a few more steps, and then she turned around and called over her shoulder in a louder but still rather meek sounding voice, "Goodbye, Farwind... perhaps... I'll talk to you again later?", before she started to practically jog off and through the rain in the direction of home. Despite what she said she was reluctant to relive the embarrassing experience all over again of trying to make conversation with him, but perhaps if they ran into each other again she wouldn't be quite so shy about it now that she can gotten the inital scare of it out of the way?

She glanced up and off to the side as she turned back towards home, and she frowned when she thought she saw someone sitting outside their house watching the alchemists shop. 'Great, just what I need... Another witness to the most embarrassing moment of my life...' She thought to herself sadly, almost depressedly. When she got home she was definately curling under her blanket to hide, and she hoped no one made her have to come back out again.

The strange think about summer rain is that it goes as fast as it comes, and the heavy rain seemed to choose that moment to suddenly drop from the near torrent it had been to a sprinkle, leaving the world a lot quieter than it had been. The sun broke through and the humidity rose as well, leaving the light sprinkling of rain to turn into almost a misting. In the sudden quiet after the loudness of rain pounding on shingles Tyr caught a voice singing, if only for one brief moment. She stopped right where she was in the middle of the street, in mid jog, and with all of her brain functions completely dead. With slightly widened eyes she strained her ears, turning her head slightly to see if she could catch it again.