My Favorite Customer! [Ravenbraid]

[Imperfect_M]

In a hole in the side of a hill there lived a Halfling. Not a nasty, dirty hole filled with worms, nor a dry, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or eat. This was the home and shopfront of Tathfheithleann of Summervale, and that meant comfort.

The combination of her home-and-shopfront was of a rustic sort: A picket-gated yard with a cobblestone path leading to a perfectly round door nestled neatly into the side of a small, grassy hill. Out front was a simple sign reading "OPEN" in the local language. Just through the door was a cozy and meticulously organized shop: Shelves lined the walls, adorned with glass cases and vial racks, some empty, others containing all manner of objects both magical and mundane. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla gently caressed the senses as one navigated through the roomy- albeit small- store; and at a desk far too tall for any reasonable Halfling, sitting on a tall stool, legs childishly swinging back and forth, was the woman herself, Tathfheithleann of Summervale.

"But how does one do business in such a small, quaint little village?" you might be wondering. Those who need Tathfheithleann's services or creations, be that a poultice or salve to ward off fever, or a wand for a newly-apprenticed novice Mage, knew how to reach her. The little Halfling was a well-connected woman indeed.

[Ravenbraid]

The sun was in Ragya's eyes as she rode at a speedy trot through the village. On her hip bounced a ceramic flask with fading charcoal runes that warmed to the touch with every jostle. Buzzing with energy like hornets in a jar, the vessel contained a very angry djinn Ragya had caught nearly three weeks ago. It had taken her that long to gather all the necessary spell components for sealing the djinn into a more stable container, now all she needed was a skilled enchanter.

After several familiar turns through the winding, grassy hills, the djinn hunter saw THE hill she had ridden all this way to find. Her steed had hardly finished slowing to a walk when Ragya nimbly swung her legs over its backside and landed by its left side. She wasted no time grabbing a sack full of something from the horse's saddle bags and speed walking past the front gate.

"TIF," she called, not slowing for a second, "TATHFHEITHLEANN. WE GOT A LIVE ONE." She ignored the caress of cinnamon and vanilla as she swung open the door to the halfling's place of business. The djinn hunter was normally a much quieter woman of few words, but with less than a day left on the seal that confined a volitaile being of fire and spite to an eensy weensy urn originally meant to hold salad dressing, hiding her steadily rising anxiety was only the 3rd thing on her mind.

[Imperfect_M]

The Halfling at the counter hardly so much as blinked in surprise as Ragya came charging through the door. "Tif" was something that Ragya and only Ragya had the privilege of calling Tathfheithleann by, and even then it normally fazed the Halfling or caused some kind of bristling from the little one.

"Ah, welcome!" chirped Tathfheithleann at the counter. Strangely chipper this morning, that one. "My favorite customer! You look concerned, is there something wrong? Possibly with that exploding jar you brought in?"

Tathfheithleann suddenly winked out of sight in a shrinking flash of blue-white light. She reappeared in front of her shop counter and casually approached Ragya, leaning only slightly forward to examine the enruned ceramic flask on the djinn hunter's belt.

"Oooh, that looks like it only has a couple of hours at best before it goes off," she commented in a reassuring, softer tone; something uncharacteristic of the normally stuffy Halfling.

[Ravenbraid]

Ragya nearly jumped when the halfling teleported closer, her nerves strung tighter than the strings on a lute, but what really unsettled her was how uncharacteristically calm Tathfheithleann was about all this. She understood Tif was a professional when it came to alchemy and enchantments, but customer service wasn't exactly her strong point. The huntress had half expected to get an earful for bringing what could be classified as a soon-to-be active incendiary into the halfling's workshop, not... whatever this was. Unless...

"Tif left her customer service enchantment in charge of the shop again, didn't she?" Ragya asked in a flat tone of voice. Her shoulders relaxed, not from relief, but from resignation. Like a sack of potatoes dropped into a pantry or a door shut firmly in one's face, there was a plain finality of Ragya knowing she would have to wait for the halfling to return from whatever errand she was on. She took a moment to compose herself. They still had a few hours before the seal broke and unleashed a very angry djinn, she had all the enchantment components Tif would need to put the spirit into a harmless trinket, they could still make this work.

The djinn huntress carefully set the repurposed vinaigrette container covered in runes on the shop counter, alongside the sack containing salamander fur, dried nettle leaves, and everything else that had been on that little printed list of necessary ingredients. "Do let the good alchem-enchantress know I'm here, and to hurry back from wherever she is. She made you with the ability to do that, right? Or do you just save messages for later?" she wearily asked the lookalike construct.

[Imperfect_M]

"Tif left her customer service enchantment in charge of the shop again, didn't she?" the huntress asked in a flat, resigned tone. It was like watching a balloon deflate.

"What gave me away?" the construct asked with a cutesy, quizzical tilt of the head.

"Do let the good alchem-enchantress know I'm here, and to hurry back from wherever she is," Ragya asked the construct as she laid both potential-explosive and materials for binding it on the shop counter.

"I'm currently at the capital right now, but I should be back any minute," the projection explained. She briefly paused as her expression went completely dead blank, eyes alight with a sudden surge of magic. "Aaand done! Message received. I'll hurry back!"

The "customer service construct," as it were, made a courteous gesture as if to ask Ragya to walk ahead of her. The door at the back of the room opened to a downward staircase lit by crystal lamps that bathed it in a soft- albeit maybe a little ominous- blue light.

"Would you like to come down to the workshop floor while you wait? My teleportation circle is just down the stairs," said the construct as she gestured towards the now-open door.

- - - - - - - - -

Tathfheithleann's actual workshop would have been better called a laboratory. The basement floor was not only vast, but everything was meticulously arranged and set up to allow safe and easy access to materials and workspace. Desks and benches will all manner of arcane and alchemical materiel adorned the entire room, all for Tathfheithleann to apply her trades. At the room's center was a series of concentric circles; runes and sigils glowed softly between each layer as they rotated around the circle's central axis. It was big enough to fit five or six people, but Tathfheithleann rarely (as in, counted-on-a-single-hand-in-its-lifetime rarely) used it for anyone but herself.

[Ravenbraid]

"You've got the energy of a young goat in the meadow but I don't see any coffee mugs or awakeness elixirs," Ragya pointed out. Hakeshna willing, she wouldn't mind a nice glass of cold brewed coffee with a little milk and sugar mixed in at that moment. She had been riding since the early hours of the morning and hadn't had time to eat a proper breakfast or drink anything caffeinated. Time had been of the essence. Maybe Tif would let her borrow the coffee maker once she got back from the capital.

As per the construct's gestures, Ragya headed to the back of the shop and descended the stairs lit by flameless azure braziers. Leaving the warm, sunlit room to enter a workshop lit by crystals that glowed cold as stars felt like crossing the boundary between night and day. The alchem-enchantress's voice from the last time Ragya had been there echoed loud and clear in her thoughts: Touch absolutely nothing unless otherwise asked to do so. With those words in mind, she took care to be mindful of the hem of her cloak and where it hung lest it snag on some delicate piece of equipment.

Ragya had seen Tathfheithleann's laboratory before but never ceased to be impressed by the halfling's workspace. Before they had met, the huntress had tried working with a number of other "professional" enchanters, but none had the same level of cleanliness or organization that Tathfheithleann had with her workspace. Ragya could still remember one wizard who told her to "trust the process" as he left an amulet with a half-sealed djinn on a stack of books and loose papers while he turned his back and drew runes on the floor. While Ragya had ruined the wizard's favorite copy of "A Hundred and One Uses for Scorpion Nettles," by dumping water on the amulet when it started to smoke, at least she had saved the wizard's workshop form going up in flames.

In the meantime, Ragya watched the circles of glowing runes with a learned patience. Tif would get there when she got there and not a moment sooner.