Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Will one day…will one day my hair be as long as mama’s?”

The eldest of Jakkoa’s two younger sisters, Alise, sat before him with her legs folded beneath her. Her sunny blonde hair reached only just past her shoulder blades, but that was thanks mostly to her lifestyle: running, climbing, jumping, wrestling, or otherwise tangling herself in any ‘exciting’ thing she could get into. The grime and snags, bumps and slip ups that came with it had necessitated a haircut on more than one occasion, her adventures leaving her parents sometimes only to wonder at what it was, exactly, that had gotten into her hair.

Jakkoa ran a brush through it, patiently working through the kinks. “One day,” he said. “If you learn to behave yourself like a proper young lady.”

“I have been good!” Alise squirmed to face him, stilling only at his, ‘Ah, ah!’ and tap of the brush to her shoulder. “I’ve not gotten anything in it for…” She began counting on her fingers. “A long time!”

“You got it mussed this morning,” Jak said.

“Only a little. But Papa said—”

A tap, tap, tap to the wagon’s floorboards drew his attention, and his stepmother waited there at the back, a simpering Jorah — Jakkoa’s littlest brother — in tow. “Alise, darling, be a girl and take your brother. What are you still doing back here? And Jak.” Palvari rounded her focus on him. “Out to the front with you! Tammok is waiting,” she scolded. “He needs to set out, but there are hours of light left to make a sale in, and we must be rid of those necklaces, you know the ones? They beg a thief on the road, and better they be off our hands before we make for Tinerr again.” After the briefest pause, she made a shooing motion with her hand. “Come, what are you waiting for, boy? Out with you!”

And so, setting the brush in his hand aside with a huff, Jak opened his mouth, but then thought better of it and moved to slip out the back of their travelling wagon. His father, Tammok, had set up a small shop table in town, trying to sell off the bulk of their valuables before they headed out of Tale. Keeping too many on hand at once was dangerous, since raids on merchants between settlements were not uncommon, and carrying jewelry in bulk tempted fate.

Sitting and manning a stall, though, was a mixed bag for Jakkoa. During busy hours, he didn’t mind. It allowed him to talk, make new acquaintances, and engage the locals. At quieter times, however, as it was now, he grew restless easily, and antsy.

This was one of those instances, and he settled himself in for a mind-numbing wait.

Jakkoa’s gaze skimmed out, over the thinning crowd, one to the next—and then paused, though he couldn’t have said why, precisely. The man didn’t immediately stick out: pure blooded Tale native, from the look of him; tall enough, but not wildly so; fit; lean. Attractive, Jak decided, in his own way, though he personally preferred those of his own race of a fairer overall complexion. Perhaps it was the long, long stretch of deep, mahogany brown hair that stood him out from the rest. Regardless, he held Jak’s attention enough to make him seem a natural target for an attempted sale.

So, he smiled and leaned.

“You, sir, look to be a man with an eye for high quality goods if I’ve ever seen one. What do you think is the worst line you’ve ever been fed to catch your attention for a sale?”

“If it is the single worst you’ve ever heard, that feels like a sort of accomplishment to me,” Jak said, taking the tease with a smile and tipping his head so that several loose strands of blonde slipped free over one shoulder. “To keep a man’s attention once earned, though, and have him pleased about it, it helps to know what he wants. Is there anything in particular that brings you to market today? A gift for a very lucky woman?” Glancing over the man and determining from the looks of him that it was at least possible he’d fathered children of his own, Jak added, “Or a little one? I have a pristine stock of hand-carved and painted ornamental bracelets, from the finest crafters in Zena…”

He moved as he said it, unlatching and opening a carved wooden box, laden with an assortment of arranged jewelry.

“And a collection here…” Jak reached for another box, decorated with coiling metallic engravings, “…some pieces of which have traveled from as far as Oba, strung together and shaped in the gold desert itself.”

Few things gave more information about a person than the person themself, often unintentionally or indirectly through a combination not just of what they said, but what they didn’t say, the way they held themself, body language, expression, and tone. Jak was far from perfect, but reading into such factors in addition to mere dialogue was an instinct that came fairly naturally to him to begin with, and one that he specifically worked on honing in his interactions with others. Thus, when the man before him chuckled, and ‘agreed’ with him while specifically excluding Jak’s chosen word of woman and exchanging it for the more neutral term ‘mate’, Jak tipped his head, studied the man one more moment, and then brightened his smile.

“Very lucky husband, then? Family is only ever deserving of the best,” Jak agreed. “And as a matter of fact…”

His teeth flashed briefly, expression taking on a playful lilt, and he reached, moving under the main stall structure to draw out a thin sheet of carved and varnished wood, upon which an assortment of things were hooked. In truth, most of the ‘jewelry’ on it was intended for vanity pets—perzi, in particular. Owners often wanted them belled to ease the process of locating them, and to deter the likelihood of them bringing home unwanted ‘gifts’ in the case of those keeping them around purely for entertainment, as opposed to pest control. But the man didn’t need to know that. Many of them were still very lovely, and if he wanted a belled bracelet for a young girl, what better?

“The circlets of these are hand-woven and cured to be soft, but durable, the metal of the bell stain-proof, so it won’t become garish with age. And these here…” He gestured to the lower rung of them, “…have the bells fastened to fine chains, lightweight, adjustable, and flattering for a small wrist. Is she a runner? One of my little sisters seems to live for getting into everything under the sun. If she is anything like that, you’ll be wanting something that can weather her energy.”

As with the first instance of it, the man’s tense — if silent — reaction to the Oban products was enough to give Jak pause, and decide to silently close up that portion of the selection and set it away, out of sight. Poor advertising to keep in view anything that a customer overtly objected to. Instead, Jakkoa focused on the latter part of the man’s inquiry.

“We’ve not traveled so far out as that, unfortunately,” he said. “Those things from outside of Tale, Sauti, and Zena that are in our stock come traded from outside suppliers when we cross paths…if you are dedicated to the interest, though, I could give you the name of a more distant-reaching merchant train likely to make those parts. Or…if you were truly persistent, I’d invite you to speak with my father about arranging for one specially ordered through us. But it would be expensive, given the distance and circumstances…we do have a selection of books on the art, though. Your partner is a healer?”

If experience had taught him anything when it came to interacting with customers, knowing when not to over-sell something was certainly a crucial element. Once a customer was already making their choice and coming to a decision, it was unnecessary to keep pushing, for risk of deterring or distracting them. Thus, when the man began looking in earnest at the belled collars, inspecting, listening, and seeming to settle on one, Jakkoa held his tongue, smiling and nodding and letting him take his pick.

After he selected one, Jak was quick to encourage the choice. “Wonderful. It’s beautiful,” he said. “And it ought to last well through whatever she might come up with to put it through. That one is twenty silvers, if you please.”

After, Jak listened as the man spoke of smugglers and trade with Yael, and nodded. “It’s dangerous business,” he said by way of agreement. “There are few legitimate traders willing to risk it, with as little as we know of the island, and…” He tapped a finger idly to the counter, “…assuming that originally, those sent there were good purpose.”

That, added to the issue of the extremists being there now with the resolution of the most recent conflict, and there was not a chance Jakkoa’s own family would be making the trip that far personally. They rarely moved further out than Tale, their current location being the far stretch of their ‘range’, and although he was interested in certain other areas — Oba, in particular — he still considered the rest of the world distinctly dangerous, particularly so the further it was from home territory.

And alkidikes were simply savage, no matter where they were found.

“I do like to be right,” Jak said, only half teasing. “But in seriousness, I am sure there will be those brave travelers soon. Adventurous hearts are not given solely to those who harbor foul intentions, after all.”

When asked what else he had, Jak set away the board of belled collars, and moved instead to a different area. “I assume you are still thinking in the line of potential healing products, or useful tools for it?” he asked. “I’ve always found the art fascinating, myself,” he admitted, shuffling through a neat stack of things before selecting three tomes in particular. “But I’ve been told by more than one source that magic is not my gift. Still…” He dusted a hand over one of them before setting it out on the main table, title upright for the other man’s view, and then the same for the other two, “…if anything, it’s only fostered more respect in me for those who can manage it. This,” He gestured to the first, tapping a finger to its upper cover, “is a complex index of specifically the fungal flora of Sauti out to the eastern border of Tale, outlining not only the basics of where they can be found, their seasonal growth and appearance, but medicinal and toxic properties, depending.”

He tapped the next. “This was written as a gardner’s handbook, but has been especially popular among healers for its coverage of a wide range of things which can be grown at home, but useful in practice for the day to day from things as simple as common seasonal afflictions or fevers, to more dangerous illnesses. The last is written by a traveler, and contains an exploration of many lesser known or understood diseases witnessed along the way. Some contain local, prospective cures, while others had no discovered remedy, so far as she knew at the time, but potentially useful nonetheless to recognize and be aware of.”

“Amazing,” Jak said as his customer spoke of his significant other and their apparent magical prowess. Even if he knew little personally on the subject and would potentially never see the man again, it was generally the soundest policy to agree with what they had to say whenever possible, and thus, he smiled. “It does sound as though he is blessed with his talent, and I am sure his patients appreciate the care of someone so gifted…” Then, mind flitting to his own family, he took pause. They could rarely afford a healer, let alone a good one, unless the situation was truly dire, but it never hurt to know of them and where to find them. “He takes patients here?” Jak asked. “Or are you away from home…”

As the topic refocused, and the man agreed to the purchase, Jak blinked, and then brightened.

“Oh, magnificent. As for what else…it would depend, admittedly, on what your partner focuses his craft on, assuming you were thinking in the lines of medicinal material still? What path has he chosen to take with his magic, and is there any particular area you know he’d be interested in learning more of?”

“So he’s…in the area currently?” Jak asked, trying not to sound rudely eager. He knew his focus here was to make a profit, but sometimes conversation was part of that, and above and beyond marketing reasons, the subject of healing was beginning to needle it’s way into the back of his mind. Not as something he considered he could do — not properly — but still something he wanted to know of and, whenever possible, make contacts with locals who did have skill in the field.

“Herbs certainly have the benefit of being usable by all and supplementing magic when otherwise drained,” Jak agreed. He knew that his stepmother had some very basic familiarity with herbs, but he’d not yet expanded upon his own skill with them.

Jakkoa tipped his head at the mention of ‘far away’ lands, and considered the request a moment before drawing up a satchel. “How far is ‘far’?” he asked. “None so far as the dark island, but…if Jauhar was of note…”