Radasanth was definitely different than Stonevale had been. The customers who came into his shop weren't primarily miners looking for one potion, for one thing. They also seemed to be scouting him out at times, comparing his products and his prices to other local Alchemists. Nevin specifically had not gone to other stores to compare for himself - he is spiky red hair, growing back out, was a bit too distinctive, and he wasn't about to go making waves.
Especially as he was not joining with the local Guild. Despite Madison's warnings, the redhead knew he couldn't tie himself to a guild - their oversight would be a bit too chafing and problematic for him. After growing up in Salva and leaving to travel, restrictions tended not to sit well. That had only gotten worse after the incident that had led to who he was now - large, organized groups in general now made his bile churn and his spine stiffen.
So instead, he opened a small shop, slept in the back and worked in the basement, and worked on his own. He put his prices a bit lower than what he felt they were worth - but here he could offer a wider variety of products. He also stated quite blatantly that he was willing to work on commissioned products if he and the customer could reach an agreement.
That had actually gotten him the majority of his business. It seemed that most of the Alchemists of the Guild felt they were too 'reputable' to be making custom potions, unless the client was quite wealthy. They also tended to refuse to work with poisons, leaving that to the 'riff-raff' alchemists. Like Nevin was now.
He had to admit, it was a bit of a change from Stonevale. The minor celebrity treatment had worn off for the most part, but it had still been nice to have people smiling at him on a regular basis. Made him feel less of a monster on some days. Now, the only people who smiled at him were usually small children running in for his candies, or tourists who didn't want to pay the full prices Guild Alchemists would ask for.
Still. At least they left him alone. He had been given an out on 'protection' money after demonstrating that he could quite handily defend himself - the Crimson Whip was becoming notorious, as it left no blood behind. Add on to that he was willing and able to make antidotes and healing potions, and ask no questions about why they were necessary... Most of the underground in the area left him alone unless they needed his services.
It had given him even more of a predilection for working late into the night though. The ruffians who normally frequented his shop operated in the later afternoons to the early mornings, and as they made up the bulk of his business, he had geared his hours to reflect when they might need him. It was working, for now.
