Feigning Laziness (Private)

[rhio]

The last of a brown dust cloud billowed its way out the door, spreading out in a quiet explosion before becoming part of the dirt on the road. Feminine-like figure nodded his head with satisfaction, seeing that he finally clearing the last of that rubbish the last runesmith left behind. The shop that was once filled with broke wooden and rust, even a drip from a pipe of a lavatory he would never use. Very little could tell that it was once a dump for the guy that never took his job at all seriously.

The wood of the counter was reborn in a sense of the word. The square block of timber was reshaped into contours and smooth on every surface. Engraved patterns were fashioned along the corners in a runic language that makes his people would understand if they were to see him, and know it was a prayer giving safely to anyone with his place or maybe old fables of his people. A thin dye was pressured into the smoothed wood and highlighted these designs very well including even the furniture a unique tint than tan or wood. Fidal has adopted many methods of the Saigan architecture when he remodel this place, from using painted clay coating to reshape the dull wood chairs and stools to liquid ice, a crystal that can be formed and reshaped using the powers of the mind, and has made quite a decorative artwork along the walls and floor of the place.

The storage in the back was cleaned but never remodeled in the splendor like the front lobby, but around the archway to the storage room was a sylvan structure of a tree. Its wood was crystalline in a sense, branching out along the walls but not from the wall...and thick trunks with forage marked the many areas of the fairy's actual workshop. Whether it was a area for his tattoo materials, embroidery, or hard ink scripting, it was in that tree-like place, including the storage of money within the roots. Even if a thief manages to break into the place, gold would be too small for him to consider unless Fidal restored it to its proper size first. However, to amuse the ones loving to break in, he bought a new safe and put it in the storage area with his magical locks, but no gold inside.

Putting the broom beside the door, Fidal sighed, finally content with the place and converted into his ordinal size, going onto a flowering branch along his shop. As he leaned back on the trunk, an albino flying squirrel raced up along the maze of vines and went to his side. The fairy didn't pay it a mind, although those two cautious birds cried in the distance, probably over nothing.

They are so much like their master. Fidal mused languidly, remembering his friends back in Sagia, including one very quick-tempted, open-minded queen that insist the birds to go with him.

[Deleted]

Down the dry dusty street silently strode a tall red-headed figure whose heavy fur-trimmed cloak rippled only slightly as he padded over the hard-packed dirt road in his leather moccasins through this merchant-residency toward one shop in particular whose long-deserted owner had just recently been replaced: by whom, many did not know, but there must always be a first customer and though it might be a special occasion to for some, for others it was business as usual.

Shortly he came before his destination: an old wooden building whose storefront left much to be desired, though the types of patrons such an establishment attracted, eager for services, would not be swayed by its deceptively simple exterior. Mid-morning sunlight streaming over its shingled roof ignited now illuminated sparkling golden dust clouds lingering aimlessly outside of the entrance like protective guardian spirits who slowly swirled and expanded with a patience only the inhuman could afford, or more suitably in this case, like forgotten memories of which someone was desperate to be rid.

The man inspected the area, almost in a tourist-like fashion, secretly appraising the surroundings or mentally marking a pretty venue for later purchase, and in a disinterested sort of way, bent over to adjust his moccasin laces which seemed to have come undone during his travel. A moment later he stood and entered the shop, although his height was now considerably and mysteriously reduced, and his hair an entirely different color and style.

Inside the shop, Ana masked her bewilderment with a poker face at the root-like structure of the shop's interior, at which point she immediately hearkened back to her days in her elven village home where tree limbs twisted naturally to the wills of the old elven nature mystic-hermits who lived thousands of years and tended to groves. She had come to conduct business but now had found herself entirely too comfortable, briefly caught up in a series of intricate runes inscribed onto what appeared to be the main counter, all written in some distantly familiar language though it remained complete gibberish. One seemed similar to the rune on her forehead, though it had a little extra twist and curve to it.

Seeing no one in particular, she placed her hands on the smooth wooden surface of the counter and called out to whomever might be the purveyor of the establishment.

“Hello, anyone there? You open for business?”

[rhio]

The fairy snored quietly from his place in the branch while the squirrel cheeped at his ear. Fidalio did what any guy would do when he was enjoying his sleep. His hand would push the annoyance aside. The squirrel backed away from the force, offended, and gave the fairy charging butt on shouder. The fairy grunted awake and gave the squirrel a dirty glance...he was really enjoying his nap.

The squirrel simply pointed outside the leaves where a vistor was looking around his new remodeled shop. Fidal stood behind the squrriel still taking to straighten his glasses been loppsided since his wakeup call.


"If you're open for some business with a very sleep deprived fae..." He called from the vines with a soft laugh...No one would take a runesmith about the size of a hand seriously. He wonder how she would think of the new runesmith.

[Deleted]

Ana leaned against the counter with an elbow, looking around in earnest at the condition of the interior, and at the sound of a young man's voice she leaned over the counter to see from where the voice came.

She stood silent a moment, listening for movement; her eyes traced corners, tables, up and down every which way. Dancing leaves on a hanging vine shook, caught her attention as a small squirrel's bushy tail twitched energetically beside a man no bigger than a glove.

Her eyes widened slightly, then she looked off to the side. Uncertainty flashed across her face.

"You're the runesmith?" Brows furrowed as she licked her lower lip in thought.

"I hope you know a little about arcana. I need a special rune, and I can pay you with stone. Are you able?" She massaged a small pouch in her open hand and out of it a small cut topaz slipped on accident. She deftly tucked it back in.

"I want this done today or as soon as possible. Sound reasonable?" She slowly trace her fingers back and forth over a dent in the counter's surface, waiting on the bleary-eyed mini-man and his squirrel companion.