Painted Beads and Threaded Feathers [OPEN!]

[allthekingsmen]

"Yes, we have lots—use the tree for everything," Vai confirmed, rummaging through one basket to pull out a brown-surrounded, white root and a small, hollowed gourd-container full of water. "Is strong and can hold the homes, but can bend when there is strong wind. Very hard to break. Gives wood, fruit, oil, wax, medicine, wine... most useful."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian committed every function to his memory. He was quite impressed with all the ways the islanders were using the local flora. As undead, most of these were not of immediate use to him, but it was possible a less direct application would present itself. He could no longer rely on the weapons and wagons of the old world, he would be surprised if anything but the bare principles of warfare was still applicable.

"One tree for all? Do you use other trees?" he asked. He would have to pay more attention to the flora of the isles.

[allthekingsmen]

"Hmm... is like: one tree family, many tree children," Vai attempted to put into words. He was never especially studious regarding plants and their uses besides what he needed to know in the basics and regarding his trade, so he was lost on the intricacies, but nevertheless tried his best to show a foreigner what his home was like. "One tree has the hard fruit; the other has soft. One can make good oil and nets, and the other tree has big leaves that are good to keep away the sun. All are siblings, and look very close. We use every part of everything."

He popped open the gourd, dabbing the white part of the root into the water carefully before firmly pressing the root to the cloth and smearing a few streaks of the sticky residue onto it, folding another piece over and applying some more. "Other plants, too. But I do not know as much as people who make medicine."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian listened. This society's reliance on the local flora has become even more pronounced - as was the limit of his knowledge. He fell silent and still, still watching the process closely, but no longer interrupting with questions. He would respond only when addressed and informed that it was complete.

[allthekingsmen]

Vai was appreciative for his quiet company—while he was well used to the hustle and bustle of the usual process, with all the other weavers and clothesmakers around him singing and talking and laughing, he enjoyed just being able to work with someone around overseeing the process without fuss. It was new, it was different, but it was welcome enough.

The process itself was lengthy, but he worked quick, occasionally getting up to grab another piece of cloth or root, but otherwise working steadfastly on the cloak. Soon enough, he was finished, and he let out a low sigh, casting his gaze over it to make sure there were no tears or smears, and straightened up where he sat, cracking his sore neck. "...Is finished, Hadrian. Can wait some more time to make darker, but if color is good now, then all is done."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian was roused from his vigil instantly. The finished piece met his expectations, and he was even more impressed with the weaver's skill when taking into consideration that he had no prior experience with making cloaks. The size was accurate, the colour fit within the set parametres. He cautiously picked it up. "May I try it on?" he asked. He wasn't sure if it was ready for use.

[allthekingsmen]

Vai smiled brightly (or as brightly as his exhaustion would allow him—let it be known that, even though he didn't necessarily do all the strenuous activity that hunters did, making clothing was still an arduous task), nodding. "Yes, try! Must see if cloak fits, if cloak is durable..."

[quaggan]

 From what Hadrian has observed, most clothing did not change that much over the course of ages. He requested a cloak due to the simplicity of its design, one that he was familiar with, saw donned and even worn himself on occasion. He cautiously moved his arms through the sleeves, pleased that the circumference accounted for the armour he was wearing. It would be a problem if he had to give up on protection for the sake of anonymity. He was not raised for infiltration.

He cautiously shrugged the cloak onto his shoulders and reached to pull the hood over his skull. It fit well and left sufficient space for him to wear a helmet underneath, if needed. With the cloak in place, Hadrian turned around a few times, then took several steps, observing the movement of the fabric.

[allthekingsmen]

Vai observed him closely, tilting his head this way and that and scooting one way or the other to check if any worrisome places tore, strained, or simply seemed to hang the wrong way—he believed that, over time, once the glue dried more and the fabric molded to the wearer, it'd get tougher and better, but if it wasn't good now, then it wouldn't satisfy him.

Returning to his original spot and posture, he hummed in contentment upon seeing that nothing seemed to be wrong. "Cloak feels good? Comfortable? Does you need me to add anything?"

[quaggan]

 There didn't appear to be any obstructions to his movement, as far as Hadrian could tell. He moved faster, then paused to examine the cloak for problems. None appeared. He glanced back at the weaver - he was the expert in the field, he would be able to notice flaws that Hadrian would miss.

"Cloak feels good" he confirmed. "No need to add anything."

Satisfied with the product, Hadrian reached for his money pouch and withdrew it. The enchantments on his bones did not aim to reproduce the sensitivity of mortal skin, making him unable to tell shell currency from coins by touch alone. He would have to count them out. He hoped that the weaver would be of assistance - his observance of some exchanges was inferior to a lifetime of working within the system. "How much do I owe you?" he repeated the line he's overheard in the markets.

[allthekingsmen]

"Good!" he chirped, clapping his hands together once. "If the cloak breaks, and you is still on Yoreiq, I will fix if you comes back."

At Hadrian's question, he thought for a moment, falling quiet. He didn't have much use for money except for when he needed to deal with the occasional foreign merchant, shell currency or not, but he did initially think of compensation—obviously, as he was running a business, no matter how small. Ordinarily, as this was something he usually wouldn't make, he'd ask for enough to fill his palm: enough, but not excessive. He had long fingers, but regular-sized palms for the average Yoreiqi person. His people's currency would find most use on their own lands. A fair price.

But didn't Hadrian mention earlier that his ship sank? To get another ship or hitch a ride in someone else's was expensive, no? And... to be honest, the opportunity of being able to craft something from the continent, for someone from the continent, was reward enough. Exciting, out of his comfort zone, and fun. He could make up any missing funds easily enough.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, "Nothing. You keep the money. But you come back to my stand if you are on the Port again."

[quaggan]

 He started pulling what shells he could notice out of his pouch when the weaver spoke up. His words were unexpected enough that Hadrian stopped mid-movement, his armoured gauntlet still as it was closing around two shells. The disruption to the transaction was not something his limited knowledge and skill could smoothly see him through.

There must have been something he was missing. He pressed on. "I not know the customs of the island. Is the money not good?"

[allthekingsmen]

Vai teetered his head, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. "It... is good. For some things. Yoreiqi trade, but foreign people pay, and we will use it. But I do not want payment for this cloak."

He crossed his arms loosely, offering a small smile to Hadrian. "I learned how to make something new today. That is payment enough. And promise that I am your first weaver to see if you comes to the island again."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian could not dispute the sound idea behind the reasoning presented to him. Learning the new was one of the motivations that drove his present masterless existence, all in order to better move in the world and be of better service later on. And this solution would be beneficial, leaving him with more shells to make use of while on the island. The request was reasonable, even though Hadrian could not promise that he would return here within whatever the weaver's lifetime was. He was concerned about the cost and availability of materials used to make the cloak, but the weaver's words on the subject spoke of expertise that Hadrian lacked. He had to concede.

"I promise."

[allthekingsmen]

Vai's smile widened, moving his hands to his hips in an open, pleased gesture. "Good! I know you will keep your word," he said affirmatively, absolutely believing that if Hadrian ever did come back, he'd hold true to his promise. After all, this was probably one of the cheapest business transactions he'd ever done, and he was able to see how Yoreiqi clothesmaking was done.

Unable to find a way to touch their foreheads and noses together in the traditional fashion, as Hadrian was all bone and didn't really have a nose, Vai simply inclined his head in thanks and farewell. "One thousand thanks for coming to my stand. I can shows you back to the main market—most business is done, most likely, but it will be easy to find other things from there."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian took a moment to consider the offer. He didn't need to return to the market, but he's experienced enough trouble already in different towns when he crossed into spaces a walking skeleton was not welcome in. The guard he's encountered previously was already surprised to see him. It was best to avoid problems, especially since he was just here to do reconnaissance.

"Yes. Please."

[allthekingsmen]

Vai nodded simply, reaching up to pull one of his necklaces over his head, the shells clinking softly as he draped it over his belongings, marking them as his (because most everyone who lived around here could recognize his particular craftsmanship) before stepping around Hadrian and beckoning him to follow with a hand. "It will be just a simple walk."

Most people were either lugging back their things back to their homes or already sitting down for a meal and relaxation, some of the old men drinking palm wine out of even older bottles in shaded areas. No one would be paying much attention to Hadrian's strange appearance, most likely.

[quaggan]

 Hadrian's attention was piqued by the removal of the shell necklace. Was it heavy or cumbersome to wear? Such mortal sensations were no longer accessible to him. No - the weaver arranged the shells very carefully, taking time to put them where he wanted. It was a protective measure, he realised. There was probably a protective charm on it. This ritual must have been meant to secure what was left behind unsupervised. He took note - he couldn't recognize magical enchantment on his own, but should keep in mind what could be a trap.

He followed the weaver, his new cloak swishing around his metal greaves. This settlement seemed less populated at this hour, fewer people were walking the streets or flying overhead. It appeared that this civilisation, too, eschewed nocturnal activity. He would have to observe it more closely to be certain, of course.

"When is the market... open?" he questioned, just to make sure.

[allthekingsmen]

Vai noticed Hadrian's examination of his necklace, assuming that he had an interest in it. "...I can gets you a necklace if you wants, Hadrian?" he asked politely. He didn't really take him for a man who particularly enjoyed jewelry, but he was open to the prospect of him being one.

He walked smoothly down the well-known path, feeling the thin grasses change back to fine white-yellow sands as they approached, occasionally moving a hand behind him to steady the crooked wings behind his back whenever a particularly lumpy patch came up. Turning his head slightly to answer Hadrian's question, he thought for a moment before saying, "We start business very early—most people are selling when the sun rises, and then we stop and clean up when the sun leaves. Sometimes there are times for a meal in the middle of the day, if it is very slow or very hot. Some people sell food and wine at night, when it is very dark, after having their late day meal."

[quaggan]

 Hadrian shook his head at the suggestion - though he was animated through magic, he had no aptitude for the high art and suspected he would not be able to make use of many enchanted items.

*

Hadrian followed the weaver, though every now and then he turned his attention away to watch the streets. The shadows lengthened, and winged figures passed overhead. Hadrian looked up a few times, his vertebrae creaking as he did, but soon he stopped bothering. He was still getting used to accounting for flight-capable individuals, who seemed to populate this island. His gaze was drawn by the small, unique lanterns some of the civilians were hanging. It seemed that they, too, were constructed out of palm leaves, as he recognized the texture from rooftops and several other objects.

"Days always hot?" he asked. He didn't know if there was any seasonal variation to this island, and wasn't certain if he'd stay long enough to learn.