Welcome to Gaia! ::

Malta was uneasy in Tukyere. She had grown used to Oblivionites over the years, and of course to her own kind, and she was very proud of herself for making it all this way, mostly alone. But, in the end, she was still timid, still afraid, and this place was full of strange things.

There were people who looked like they had been pieced together like a puzzle, and some of them had the dreaded blood of the dragon-kin and the monsters of light. She was here for two reasons: because it was close to the looming security of the Terra Expanse, and because of the tree.

Oh the tree.

It floated far above the town, and she hoped to have the chance to try some of its fruit.

Apparently, others had that idea, and her appointment with the tree was not for another few days... another few terrifying days in the Hybrid city that the Ysali had to tolerate.

Despite it being a magescian town, a khehora in the streets was, though notable, not as bizzare as some would think. Nothing was strange in this town, except what was. So, Malta was, mostly, ignored as she sought out a place to rest for the next few nights, somewhere that she could fit and be safe from the blazing sun and the terrifying monster-people around her.

She peered longingly at an herb shop as she passed, but she knew it was probably occupied, and so she began to move on, when...

“Naarhiji?” she exclaimed, surprised, “Is that you?”

It had been years, but the murky green... that smell. She could swear that it was him!

“Prr!” exclaimed Malta in relief. So it was him! She approached him at a brisk trot: Naar's familiarity offered her some measure of safety among all the strangeness. “It IS you!” Her tail waved from side to side – she was clearly happy to see him. Had it been a stranger, she thought, she would have been so upset... but it was Naar, and that was good.

“It's a long story!” she said, “What about you?” she sniffed him briefly and tilted her head, curious. He hadn't seemed the sort to leave home... but neither was she. And yet, here she was, in Tukyere, on her way to find her original homeland among the mountains and dangers of the expanse.

So who was she to judge what was or wasn't odd?

Malta looked at the darkened shop, thoughtful. “If it's urgent...” she said, not sure if she wanted to take business from the herbalist. Magescians, she had learned while in Obsidian city, provided services for trade, and got very upset if someone did those services as well. But, if he wasn't in, someone had to provide the service. As long as people went away happy and... served... that was good to Malta. “I can help. I'm Ysali... My work is with herbs and potions...”

And, indeed, her bag was full of supplies. As she had learned trade as a orakoi in the Settlement and business years ago in the city of Oblivionites, so she had used it to make it as far as she had, and likely further still. Supplies, herbs, potions, and her own magic were her services. “If I don't have what you need, I can whip it up quickly...” her iron pot, stained with long, reliable use, clanged on her back.

“And... I think you behave very well. And properly. Though,” she chirped an apologetic sound of amusement, “I don't know much about such things...”

“Hmm!” she looked around, tail lashing in pleasure as she contemplated being helpful to a friend in need. He sounded so happy to have her help, happy enough for her anyway. “Well, I just came in here, but...” She couldn't set up her cauldron in the middle of the street: one needed 'permission' for that.

She brightened as she found the perfect place.“How about there?” she asked, gesturing towards an alleyway. It looked safe and secure and sheltered from the desert winds. Too enthusiastic to wait or use a little more common sense and realize that alleyways were not good places to set up shop and rest, she bounded on into it.

Fortunately, it was unoccupied and relatively clean, save for a few broken crates and a scurrying rodent, and she set up her portable 'fire' – a limited-use pocked heat crystal trinket she had picked up in a port town for probably more than it was worth – and set up her cauldron above it on it's tripod. She let it heat before she poured in some of her supply of water.

“What did you need?” she asked, sitting on her haunches, her claws at the ready, her glowing eyes looking over at Naar queryingly.

It would, of course, have been easier with Siksyl'Gra's help, but the Giogimar had separated from her, scouting a place for them to spend the night, and he would find her later, when he saw fit to do so. In the meantime, her claws would have to do the trick of his hands...

Malta didn't hear Naar in her eagerness to help him.Okay, she knew it was filthy, but it was nice and sheltered and she had frankly walked in worse than this alleyway. “Oh! Muscle soreness! That's easy enough! I could help with that with my magic, you know.” she offered. Muscle soreness was just a buildup of substances in the muscle tissue, easily nudged away with a small application of magic. “I'll make you a potion for it, though.” she offered, “ for later.” she started setting out the ingredients...

((Gonna actually buy her the ingredients and cook it up in her next post, haha))

Crafting:
Rank 7-> Rank 8
Created: Basic Healing Potion

Malta laughed. “Its not weird!” she said, in the tone of voice one would give to a cute, silly, child when they had said something adorably absurd. “And its not just poison magic!” She took out the herbs, slightly withered, and set them out on a clean preparation board. “It's the magic of life, Naarhiji!” she said. And, as if to demonstrate, she used her magic to restore the fronds and leaves to freshness, the withered leaves plumping out and glowing with vitality as if freshly plucked. “See?”

She set the water to boil as she began to crush the herbs into a pulp, adding little seeds she had found that improved its effectiveness. “This potion,” she began conversationally, “It can be used as a lotion...” she added the crushed plants into a pot and, with careful claws, fiddled with a measuring cup made of clay and bearing the marks of hard use. “I mean, you can drink it too.” she said, measuring a small amount of what appeared to be cream, carefully preserved in an enchanted jug, and a starchy sort of substance that clumped, white, into blocks of powder, “But its a little thick so I guess you'd be technically eating it... like a pudding...” she made a face as she added the thickeners into the cauldron. “But it wouldn't be very tasty, or go down very well, so this should be a lotion...” She began to hum as she folded the mixture in, “Lotions and salves work better anyway for soreness and wounds because they only go to that area, you see!” she chirped, “For deeper, bigger things a potion is good, like sickness or a very deep wound, but if its just soreness or a small wound, this will work!”

Now that the mixture was folded in completely, Malta stirred it gently and carefully, to keep it from burning. With a careful hindclaw, she kicked the heating stone away, effectively taking it off of the heat as she stirred. The mixture, as it began to thicken into a puddinglike light green slop, smelled... not unpleasant, actually. Like fresh cut grass and tea, though concentrated.

She took out one of several clay jugs that she had bought at the market – unmarked and unremarkable and inexpensive. She checked it, inside and out, and smiled – she'd already treated this one to make it usable. She began to ladle the cooling mixture into the jar and covered it with a waxed cloth, tucking the edges around the jar. She brought out a piece of string and cut it with her teeth into the right length.

“There!” she said, holding out the string to Naarhiji, “You should wait for it to cool before using it, but if its a little warm – not too warm - it might actually work better!” she said, “Um, first... can you tie the lid on for me, Naarhiji? It's so hard to tie knots with claws...” she complained...

(496/300)
(-1 Vial of Water, -2 Remedial Fronds, -1 Seggan Leaf )
(+2 Ysali orb)

Malta loved being thanked. It sent tremors of delight down her fins and her spine, all the way to the tip of her tail. “You're welcome!” She yipped happily as he tied the jar and put it away, moving her paw in a dismissive way when he talked about payment. Payment? Why should a friend pay? Although Malta knew that sometimes it was polite to pay and accept payment, she felt bad about taking something from Naar in return. He didn't look like he had much on him, especially not the infinitely useful dragon orbs.

She was about to properly turn down his offer of food when her stomach gurgled meaningfully. She arched her neck, flicking her face fins in embarrassment. “... dinner would be lovely.” she said shlyly.