[Knirin Gardens] Smells Just as Sweet (Rosela/Serrif)

[Rosela]

Timestamp: 90th of Summer, 512 AV Midday and warm, Rosela couldn't have asked for a better time to be out and about. She'd risen early, as she always had, but spent far too much time just trying to get the wrinkles out of her dress. By the time she left the Godiva Refuge, the sun was well on its way to its zenith, and only a scant few puffy clouds drifted over the city. A few of those lovely Akalak men were out and about, and Rosela surveyed them much as she did the weather. Much to her own dismay, Rosela still hadn’t seen the entirety of Riverfall, even by her third day in the city. Granted, the first day she arrived late, and the second was spent job hunting, but neither were a good enough excuse. The water alone was enough to make her sigh longingly each time she looked over the railing to see it thundering downwards. She’d logically known there was water like in the world, but the water by Ahnatep didn't do it justice. While the ocean was magnificent and all… Seeing the crushing power of the waterfall made it so much more real, as though the whole of the world were emptying at this very moment. A breeze kicked up and carried a spray of water into her face, and Rosela forced herself not to sputter unseemingly. An upgrade to waterproof makeup was definitely in order. For the time being, she checked herself in a reflecting pool, smudging here and there until she looked decent again. Knirin Gardens was the closest garden on the map, and Rosela turned from the magnificent waterfall to walk quickly towards it. The very notion of a garden in this place seemed so unusual. Where growth was so abundant, why set aside a special place for it to also grow? As as spectacular as the waterfall was, the Gardens nearly took her breath away. She’d seen the Grasslands on her way into the city, but nothing compared to the lush greenery here. Everything was so green and alive that it seemed to pack the space. She wondered if she would bounce if she jumped on the grass. Slipping off her sandals, she curled her toes in the damp grass and forced herself to walk casually towards the flower bushes, shoes in hand. Each bush seemed bursting with life, and colorful blooms peppered along the row. She held the hand with her shoes behind her back as she leaned in to smell one. Two hands gently pulled the flower towards her, when a single petal fell. Another hand caught it and brought it to her nose. Not as sweet as the desert perfumes, but fuller somehow. One hand pulled her dress out of the way as she immediately knelt down, looking for more lost petals. Rosela didn’t know the first thing about making perfume, but she was sure she could figure something out.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

OOCSorry I’ve put this off for sooo long but here I am now!

Another wonderful morning, Serrif had some things to tend to in the city. As usual there were things the Sanctuary needed and Serrif graciously offered to ride into town and secure these things for Kavala so she didn’t have to do it herself. Sometimes he felt like she would much rather stay at the Sanctuary than come into the city at all. And he honestly couldn’t blame her either. So, he saddled up Hasmere and headed into town, bringing with him his version of a lakan as well as his Konti longbow. It paid to be vigilant especially when riding alone into town. But he knew the way now the travel would be brief and his stay would be as well.

This would be his first appearance within the city since he decided to dress differently. It was really at Kavala’s request….forceful hand that he did so. She burned his bodysuit and he really didn’t have the funds to buy another. So he had to settle for a short sleeved button up tunic. He liked it better because it let him breathe; but it also exposed him. And in many ways he wasn’t still very comfortable with his own skin in public. But he was getting there; but here among the warrior men his heavily scarred features may get him some sort of status among them. Showing he could take a beating and keep on going. Maybe that is how it would be seen...hopefully that was how it would be seen.

Readily dismounting he stabled Hasmere inside the city; it was still early and he doubted if where he needed to be would be open for business now. So he had time to kill, he remembered the Kinrin Gardens were always magnificent in the mornings that much was very vivid in his mind. The waterfall, the greenery…all of it wonderful; and without much more thought on the subject he found himself standing there in the garden. It was funny at times how he just ended up places without much thought in it at all. Sometimes he wanted to be somewhere and just was.

He could hear the water rush through the garden…wonderful. Something about flowing water soothed him; maybe it was because he was used to going to sleep by the ocean in a tent pitched on the warm sand. He lived like that for so long before coming here and having a bed offered to him. But he still longed for the feeling of the warm Muran sand under his feet; something about that Isle was healing to his soul. It was where he met Rak’keli; where his burden was lifted and his new self brought forward. His old bonds broken and new ones formed. It was where he became Serrif Von Chatlyn; no matter who he was in his past. His left hand grazed the cool hilts of the two elegant daggers at his side and he was brought back down to reality.

It was easy to get lost in beauty, and Riverfall didn’t fall short in its elegant offering of such things. The Kinrin Gardens were the best of what RIverfall had to offer in his opinion. It was beautiful yes; but he would venture to say he had seen much more beautiful in Mura. But every place had its own vintage. Here it was the waterfall, and in Mura it was the beaches. He remembered them well and didn’t think anywhere would really compare to them.

St his side a leather satchel hung, he was supposed to collect supplies and such in it, he had a small amount of coin to spend in the city on things the Sanctuary needed. But it was possible that he could find some of it here if he really tried. And a coin saved was a coin earned definitely; so he decided to see what he could find here among the garden….when his eyes caught something he had actually never seen before.

A woman, but no ordinary woman…she had…arms. He had to do a mental count multiple times because…he counted six….six? That couldn’t be right. He counted again. No, he was right. Six arms? He had heard of such things but never actually visually seen someone who had six arms. Much like he had heard stories of the Konti Isle but doubted it existed; dismissing it as a fairy tale. But it did exist, and so did she. So, he would make the most of it.

She stood a petite five foot seven, a very feminine body once you looked past the six arms. Which he was doing as he tried to pick out some things about her as he approached her. He noticed her hair had a very high sheen about it, perfectly straight and well kempt. Her skin was also similar in glow and appeal. There were red marks in her hair that were somewhat faded, interesting it must hold some sort of relevance and meaning to her otherwise she wouldn’t have done it. Her hair was beautiful, one wouldn’t color some of it without a reason to do so.

“Wonderful aren’t they?” He said as he approached his voice gentle and level. Not meaning or wanting to startle her in any way. “The gardens are full of such things if you know where to look for them.” Which was indeed the truth, there were many things hidden to the bare eye that took training to see or know of. Many wonderful things hid beneath the mere surface of such plants just waiting to be discovered.

“But let me introduce myself M’Lady. I am Serrif Von Chatlyn. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

[Rosela]

A single, desiccated petal was to be found in the underside of the bush, and Rosela tossed it back. She couldn’t afford to ruin her first perfume with ugly petals. She stood again, slowly, looking for other fallen petals. The sudden appearance of a man caught her off guard, and she stepped back in surprise. ”Y-Yes, they’re lovely,” she stammered gracelessly. ”I was just looking for petals.” The first things she noticed about him were the scars. He seemed to wear them proudly, displaying them as he did, but he didn’t have the bulky build of a warrior. He was armed too, and Rosela was suddenly very aware that she was not. Her few mizas felt very heavy in her dress pocket. Scars, daggers, and a gentle, sophisticated manner. An interesting character, no doubt, but was he trustworthy? More importantly, was he worth her time? His talk suggested he knew things about the garden she didn’t, and she was struck with an intense curiosity. Did he know she was making perfume? Could he possibly tell that she had only been in the city a few days? ”I’m Rosela Reshimala, very nice to meet you.” She introduced herself hurriedly and looked down at the petal being toyed with in two of her hands. ”You know…where I can find more petals? I want to make perfume from them.” She prodded gently, but didn’t want to seem over eager. She nearly confessed that she didn’t know a thing about perfumery, but didn’t want to show her hand too early. It was common sense to be cautious around strangers, and who knew what this scarred man’s intentions really were. He didn’t seem the type to know anything about perfumery, but one never knew. OOCSorry for the length… I had the hardest time writing this for some reason.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“Ah perfumery.” He said with a smile as he nodded looking out over the garden, he knew only the basics of such things; but this skillset overlapped his already present skill in philtering. Lym had taught him a little and he heard the rest form Konti passing by wearing wonderful smelling scents. It was true that the Konti did wear perfume proudly; most brewed it at home with their daughters, granddaughters, and great granddaughters.


“Perfumery is something I can help you with. If you have the nose I could lend you the skills to make it. But only if you have the endurance for my company.” He said with a sly smile.

He rolled his right arm and reached into a brush; easily revealing a very telling mark on his forearm. The intertwining marks of Rak’keli. They were shimmering bright opalescent almost like his scars only much more beautiful. The two serpents intertwined all the way from his wrist to his inner elbow crease, he was a healer. That would explain his next move quite well. He picked several red bulbous orbs from a plant and then showed them to her.

“These for instance are discarded as merely hideous. Most prefer the leaves of a rose or flower; but it takes an adventurous spirit to see these.” He had seen Lym use these in a tea before, the scent was more tan just merely strong. And they smelt heavily of floral decadence. He crushed one on his fingertips then nodded presenting his right upturned hand to her for olfactory inspection.

“You see these are much more aromic than the leaves alone. But need to be used in moderation in mixtures…they are usually too strong to be used in great numbers.” He would let her move to smell them if she wished but even before her nose got close she would be able to smell the scent pouring from his hand now.

“They can be used in herbal teas, medicines and I would guess perfumes as well. There is plenty more in this garden to explore. Your day will not be wasted here if you decide to continue tolerating my presence.” He didn’t know if she was comfortable with him or not. But in his mind it was pretty safe to say she was…careful of him.

Yes he understood he had come out of nowhere, he was armed and she was not…but that was more out of habit than anything. A long ride from the Sanctuary could attract all kinds of grievances he didn’t particularly want to put up with. He was also different than many of the men around here. He had an even temperament, he wasn’t over masculine, however at the same time it was more than apparent he had fought a few battles in his life. Only his marks weren’t the kind of a glorious warrior, no his were of an escaped recovering underdog. One who had seen suffering like none else; but it was doubtful if she would pick up on this or not. Perhaps she knew something of torture and the marks it produced. Or maybe even enough just to know that those marks weren’t caused by conventional weapons.

But that was doubtful, Serrif for some reason felt somewhat safe with her. Because she likely didn’t know of torture or the likes of his suffering. No, she looked privileged and likely came here for a leisure trip to make some perfume. And he could indeed help her with this easily. Maybe even give her some pointers and gain an acquaintance along the way.

[Rosela]

”You do? Wonderful! I know a bit about perfumery, but not much.” It was the closest Rosela would come to admitting her ignorance on the subject, but it was still more than she was truly comfortable sharing with a near-stranger. Despite the massive perfume industry in Ahnatep, she hadn’t been aware that men elsewhere in the world bothered with it. At his jest, she offered a polite laugh. ”Oh you. Of course I’d greatly appreciate your help, thank you very much.” Endurance for his company? Was he coming on to her? Not likely, it seemed too bold for this soft spoken man, but maybe that was his gimmick. Start out quiet and gentle, making perfectly innocent double entendres, then bam, right on her back. Whether that meant sex or a mugging, remained to be seen. For a moment, she almost dismissed the gnosis mark as an interesting tattoo, and immediately wondered what kind of ink was used to produce such a lovely shimmer. Luckily, a rogue memory from her school days stayed her tongue before she looked like an imbecile. She’d seen that design on one of her study flashcards, somehow related to one of the gods. A gnosis maybe? Ahnatep wasn’t the most pious of cities, certainly not so among the Gilded, so she’d never seen one in person before. Surprisingly, she also recalled the memory device she’d used for it; asps in the desert could kill, but asps on a man could heal. So, one mystery solved of the mysterious Serrif: he was a healer. Moving out of her thoughts, she looked at the ugly little berries he’d pulled from the bush doubtfully. ”Berries? I thought perfumes were supposed to be made from- Oh, that does smell nice…” The scent hit her nose and cut off all objections. Though she could smell it perfectly fine where she was, she leaned forward a bit to get a noseful of it. ”I see what you mean. About it being strong, I mean. But the scent is so full, more than a flower. It smells like this place,” Taking her eyes from the berries, she looked at the lush garden around them, bursting with life. ”Full.” It was hardly the kind of scent a lady in Ekytol would wear; those were much more warm, the crown of leth scent being quite in season when she left. She had never been much into perfume, in her glory days. There were so much prettier things to spend mizas on. In the absence of pretty things, however, she’d better at least smell nice. ”Medicines? What kind of medicines? Since you're...you know.” By way of explanation, she gestured to his gnosis mark. She wasn’t particularly interested in the healing arts, but if she could extract a few mizas from this garden, she’d be sure to do so. She hadn’t managed to find employment yet, so a little extra cushion in her purse wouldn’t be unwanted. ”And never you mind about ‘tolerating your presence’ and silly things like that. If you want to escape before I swindle you out of everything you know, you’re more than welcome to.”

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

She seemed nice and polite enough to him, even if he had never seen her kind he didn’t feel it polite to point out what was different between them. The Konti had gills and scales, the Charoda had small fins, and the Akalak were blue, red, and sometimes even green. It didn’t help someone to harp on differences, but instead he found common ground between them; and it seemed like philtering and perfumery was that commonality right now. So he focused on what was common and would discard the rest.

“To be honest I know herbalism, philtering and medicine. But what I know there could apply over to perfumery.” He admitted with certainty as he noted another effect on his fingers. They were stained a slight red color.

That could be of use. He brought his hand closer for observation feigning to smell the aroma as he announced a sudden discovery to her. “It also looks like it could function as a red dye as well if prepared properly. Judging by the hints in your hair that could be more than useful to you.” He remembered her strands that were feigning a red color. But how to prepare it all still escaped him some. But all that would be needed was research possibly at the library.

“Who would’ve known rose hips had so many useful qualities.” He looked about the garden a little then to the woman before him.

Full was a good explanation of the scent. It had life, a very hearty life about it. And well one would almost be able to tell where it was pulled from if they knew enough about perfumery. But he wasn’t skilled in such things, however he could philter…and that would be his only really useful skill here. His nose wasn’t very developed when it came to finer smells. Hers however might be since she was used to such scents and aromas. The only thing he ever did was make good smelling lavender teas and the like…which could be helpful here he supposed.

“I make a variety of different things for the Sanctuary Clinic. Sedatives, sleep aids, wound cremes, balms, oils, burn cremes really anything and everything we need I usually make. That’s my job; I make the medicine. And if I get spare time I research and try new things to see what I can discover. “ He believed that was an adequate answer to her question; it certainly seemed to be.

“But I don’t mind sharing knowledge, it is the only thing that will live on after we pass on through to the next life.” A little bit of philosophy as well it seemed was in order as he nodded.

“Let us see what we can find in this garden M’lady.” A smile crossed his face as he began the exploration of the garden, there were so many things that could produce a scent that he had no idea where to start. But he knew one thing that would ease the tension if only slightly.

He undid his belt and drew one of the ornate dagger sheaths from it. He then redid his belt and looked to her. “You may need this to cut things free.” He offered her one of the ornate daggers. If she took it or not was up to her.

The sheath itself was steel, but not normal steel; it was lighter and sturdier. On the sheath there was also inlaid gold forming intricate designs of sea shells and the ocean. It was obviously a masterwork dagger, but what was a healer doing with one. The handle of the dagger seemed to be made of a giant set of sea shells that were set together with molten glass and intricate gold wiring. It was obviously made for hands much larger than hers, however that didn’t detract from the beauty of them. The crossguard seemed to be plated gold as well with a small sword catcher incase it actually needed to be used in combat. There was more to be discovered about this dagger if she drew it from its sheath though.

“I’ll just need it back before I part ways with you.”

[Rosela]

”Philtering? Ph-iltering.” She tested out the word, making sure her Common tongue was correct. ”I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. What is it?” Rosela had to stop herself from snatching the berries out of his hands when he mentioned the dye. Had it really faded that much? Was it that obvious that she’d let her hair go for the time being? Her scalp burned with embarrassment. She may as well have gone out without her makeup. At least it was brushed. ”Ahem, well, yes, I…haven’t had a chance to keep up with the dying…” In an attempt at nonchalance, she ran a hand through her hair, as though to hide the faded red. ”New in town and all and I haven’t had a chance to find work…” She stopped herself from rambling, quite certain he didn’t want to hear her sob story. It wasn’t much of a story anyway, at least if you left out the parts she wouldn’t have told him anyways. ”Rose hips. I can’t say I’ve ever seen them before.” Reaching in, she plucked a twig of them for herself. As much as she wanted to grab a whole bundle of them, it was best to make sure they actually worked first. If so, maybe she’d grow a bush of her own, and when she was wealthy, she could pay someone to go out and pluck them for her. Inspecting them closely, she spun the small shoot of berries between her fingers. ”The Sanctuary Clinic… That’s just outside of the city, right? I thought they just housed animals?” She’d seen it on the map when she first arrived, but had dismissed it as a glorified stable. She had no interest in animals, let alone housing them, so she’d never been to visit. A shocked noise of protest escaped her as he presented her one of his daggers. It was a beautiful thing, and she took what was offered out of instinct. There was a fleeting, golden notion that he was outright giving it to her, before it was quickly thumbed out of her mind. Of course he’d want it back. Rosela had a brief fantasy of running off and selling it, when that too was forced from her mind. This was an act of trust. She could easily turn it on him, demand the other, and have enough for a whole new wardrobe by dinner time. The fantasy was squashed with its companions, not only because he looked like he could easily disarm her, but because he was her first ally in this city and she needed someone to be on her side. He was asking her to trust him, and showing that he trusted her. He was willing to impart some of his knowledge to her, for free no less, and all she had to do was trust him. ”Th-thank you. It’s very lovely.” Taking a couple quick steps to keep up with him, Rosela looked around at the array of flora, feeling very subdued as she clutched the large dagger to her chest with two hands. She was unusually nervous holding it, and it felt too big for her. Eyes darting from bush to bush, a hand reached out to bend a spray of large orange flowers to her as they passed. The scent was weak and she let them go gently. ”There’s so much here; how are we going to find anything?”

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“Philtering is an art of sorts. Making something from many other things. Like an artist who paints a masterpiece the final product is composed of many parts balanced perfectly on the canvas. Only my canvas deals with liquids gasses as well as solids and my masterpiece is a final end product usually a medicine. My paints are herbs as well as many other reactants and my brush is glassware. Perhaps I will have time to show you sometime so on.” He said with a shrug, he hoped that would help quell some of her questions about his art. He did see it as such, many mastered other things but few mastered the balance and curiosities of the philtering art.

“The Sanctuary clinic heals people and animals alike. There are times when we see the worst injuries.” He said recounting all the people who had stumbled through the sanctuary gates to find proper healing. It seemed while the proper healing areas in the city achieved a higher volume of people the Sanctuary did seem to get the worst of the lot who feared losing the delicate grip on life before even making it to the city proper.

A smile crossed his face as she accepted his temporary loan to her. She was smart; he could tell that and having a dagger put her at ease more than anything. And at any rate the Akalaks would not put up with thievery from anyone. And well the price on her head for such a crime…one could only really begin to imagine. “It is isn’t it?” He said in response as he looked out again over the wide garden spread out before them.

“There is much here indeed, but all we have to do is look, listen and most of all smell. You are interested in perfumes. What do you like? What smells draw you in? This is after all in your taste. Far be it from me to impart my tastes on you.” He said with a smile as he began a steady walk making sure she would be able to leisurely stride behind or beside him. “You have the right idea, I would do the same.”

He bent over and smelt a few flowers of his own, there were gently smells all around, but again he wasn’t sure what she wanted to us nor how she wanted to use it. So he could only make suggestions on what smelt decently. It was not his place to advise her yet. She was likely a woman of very cultured taste; and where she was from she likely had different opinions on things than he did. He had experienced Mura; a place of opulent feminine beauty. So he found himself wanting to mix a certain kind of scent. Flowery, strong something that stood out to the senses. Some Konti women were like that, they wanted to make an impression especially being that the isle was chalk full of them. It was a competition for men in Mura…far different from here in RIverfall.

[Rosela]

Rosela had no experience in either painting or medicine, but she did her best to appreciate Serrif’s metaphor just the same. ”Thank you… I’d appreciate that.” Hopefully she never needed a healer, or to be one herself, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Until she got on her feet in this place, she’d do well to accept whatever free lessons she could get. It was disturbing to remember she didn’t have a family healer here, someone who’d known of every bump and scrape she’d had since childhood. If she got sick or hurt, she’d have to pay for help, a thought that both chaffed and alarmed. What did the poor actually do for healthcare? Riverfall had so far struck her to be a well-to-do city, though admittedly not to the extent she was used to, but every city had a lower class. Had she seen beggars here? None came to mind, but perhaps she was so used to not seeing them that she found them invisible. ”Maybe sometime I could come and visit you at the Sanctuary? Maybe on a day where there aren’t too many injuries around.” A chill ran over her arms at the thought of blood and she struggled to keep it from showing on her face. Now was not the time. "I'm not sure I'd ever be cut out to be a healer, animals or otherwise." As they continued to walk, she fingered a couple more flowers, nothing really catching her fancy. She frowned in frustration as she tried to think of the characteristics of the scent she had in mind. Fruity with just a hint of flower, light, and warm. She could almost smell it if she tried… As she leaned down to a large red flower, she had a burst of realization and she stood, fingering the petals. She knew what scent she wanted, it already existed, in fact. It was her mother’s scent: crown of leth with just a hint of opal berry. Releasing the flower so it sprang back up, swaying, she looked at over at Serrif. ”I guess I’m not really sure what scent I want. I figured I’d come in and pick whatever struck me, but it seems like such an aimless thing to do now… I know what scents I used to like on other people, but I never had much of a problem picking one out for myself.” Truth be told, her mother had picked out a scent for her when she was a girl and she’d worn it ever since, until the fire. In the rush to leave Ahnatep, and her past, behind, she hadn’t even considered packing a bottle. It was disappointing somehow that she couldn’t remember anything about the scent she’d worn for years. With an almost morose tug, she pulled a plump pink flower up to her face and hummed thoughtfully. ”Hm. This is nice. Very…airy. Sweet.” Using three hands to carefully dislodge a petal, she sniffed it once again and held it out to Serrif. ”What do you think?”

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“I’d like a few more visitors that didn’t require medical attention. That seems to be how I normally meet people.” He said with a small smile, he did note that the thought of coming to the Sanctuary. Was she uncomfortable with animals…sickness…gore? Likely a mixture of all of those things, most were uncomfortable with gore and sickness. Serrif himself had become quite used to blood, gore and the likes. He was a healer and having a weak stomach did him no good in those endeavors.

“Being a healer is a special call Rosela, just like being a warrior, a jeweler or a maker of fine clothing. Each has special skills that are difficult for the average person to learn if they don’t have a knack for the craft.” He had been in need of a good clothier in Riverfall. There was a Konti that he could visit every now and then. Maybe he would make a trip to her sometime.

He walked with her smelling flowers and even every now and then cutting a piece off of a plant to smell what kind of sap it produced. He did find a rather interesting leaf cluster. On a low hanging tree. He broke the leaves and they smelt heavily of cinnamon. A warm alluring scent if he could think of one. The leaves though were interesting and well he had no idea how such a thing would smell to her. But to him it was nice. He took a few of these leaves maybe a handful and stashed them in his leather satchel for later. He would have to experiment to see if he could make anything from it.

This would be his first attempt at perfumery, but with his skills in philtering and herbalism he bet he could do something with it with a little research on the topic. Maybe he could make some coin with it as well. That would be nice, but he wasn’t going to get off of Kavala’s payroll making perfume alone. He had to strengthen his other skills some more. Maybe perfumery could be a kind of hobby for him or something. He thought on the subject and laughed at himself a little, he never thought of himself as much of a perfumer.

“I don’t know very much about perfumery myself. But if it involves philtering in some way or another I am sure I can produce something of use. May not be a masterpiece; but it should be passable.” He continued through the gardens with her and nodded.

“So, you want something light…airy and not overpowering then?” He said as he smelt it.

“Yes sweet, light and not overpowering. What other characteristics do you want in this possible perfume?” He asked as he nodded to her with a content smile on his face.

“That scent by itself could almost be a perfume alone. But it is missing something….I don’t know what though.” It was hard to explain when something was missing…and exactly what was when you knew little of the craft or art.