50th of Summer, 513 AV
11th Bell
Aoren shifted the weight of the satchel on his hip. He ran his thumb over the strap across his shoulder to stop the chaffing. With a sigh he walked up to the door of the resident that had placed the order currently on his list. Knocking on the slim wooden door he waited for a moment before he heard the locking mechanism unhinge itself. The door swung open slowly and there stood an elder lady who looked to be in the midst of cooking.
“Ah! Aoren. Here to deliver my weekly tonic, yes?” Aoren gave the woman a smile.
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached into the satchel withdrawing a bottle of green liquid swirling with bit of herbs. He handed it to her with a small smile. She procured the appropriate amount of money and deposited it into his outstretched hand.
“Can I treat you to a cup of tea? Or a roll maybe?” Aoren shook his head.
“No, ma’am. I’ve a lot to deliver. Other citizens expecting their orders from Mistress Blackleaf.” He pat his satchel then gave the woman a polite nod. The woman chuckled giving him a slight nod as she closed the door to her home presumably returning to her business. Aoren turned on his heel meandering back to the main hustle and bustle of the Third Tier of Stormhold Citadel.
Aoren was making his periodic rounds about the city that day. He had been at it all morning. There were citizens within Syliras who were either too busy, too old, or just too important to make the trip to Stormhold Salves. It may have seemed odd to the casual observer to find a man of his particular stature in the employment of Syliras resident Apothecary but Aoren had his reasons. Despite appearances Aoren was a peaceful man who believed firmly in helping people. What better way than to treat their illness with tonics, remedies and tinctures?
Not every day was he toiling away in Mistress Sahfri Blackleaf’s philtering lab concocting what miniscule things he could. He was by far not as experienced in the mixing of herbs, liquids or other substances as his teacher but she was a patient woman and for that Aoren was thankful. Reaching into the satchel at his hip he retrieved the list of deliveries that needed to be made. With a piece of charcoal he crossed off the name of the woman to whom he’d just seen. She was a regular. A sweet lady but she was always trying to convince Aoren to have tea with her and that made him slightly uncomfortable.
11th Bell
Aoren shifted the weight of the satchel on his hip. He ran his thumb over the strap across his shoulder to stop the chaffing. With a sigh he walked up to the door of the resident that had placed the order currently on his list. Knocking on the slim wooden door he waited for a moment before he heard the locking mechanism unhinge itself. The door swung open slowly and there stood an elder lady who looked to be in the midst of cooking.
“Ah! Aoren. Here to deliver my weekly tonic, yes?” Aoren gave the woman a smile.
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached into the satchel withdrawing a bottle of green liquid swirling with bit of herbs. He handed it to her with a small smile. She procured the appropriate amount of money and deposited it into his outstretched hand.
“Can I treat you to a cup of tea? Or a roll maybe?” Aoren shook his head.
“No, ma’am. I’ve a lot to deliver. Other citizens expecting their orders from Mistress Blackleaf.” He pat his satchel then gave the woman a polite nod. The woman chuckled giving him a slight nod as she closed the door to her home presumably returning to her business. Aoren turned on his heel meandering back to the main hustle and bustle of the Third Tier of Stormhold Citadel.
Aoren was making his periodic rounds about the city that day. He had been at it all morning. There were citizens within Syliras who were either too busy, too old, or just too important to make the trip to Stormhold Salves. It may have seemed odd to the casual observer to find a man of his particular stature in the employment of Syliras resident Apothecary but Aoren had his reasons. Despite appearances Aoren was a peaceful man who believed firmly in helping people. What better way than to treat their illness with tonics, remedies and tinctures?
Not every day was he toiling away in Mistress Sahfri Blackleaf’s philtering lab concocting what miniscule things he could. He was by far not as experienced in the mixing of herbs, liquids or other substances as his teacher but she was a patient woman and for that Aoren was thankful. Reaching into the satchel at his hip he retrieved the list of deliveries that needed to be made. With a piece of charcoal he crossed off the name of the woman to whom he’d just seen. She was a regular. A sweet lady but she was always trying to convince Aoren to have tea with her and that made him slightly uncomfortable.
But as always, I love your work.
