Yvonne stood contently in the middle of Stonevale. She endured the rain without paying it much mind, her thoughts on far more important matters - wearing a white wool cloak to resist the water a while, hooded to keep her hair dry and a brown fur scarf to warm her neck. The black-skinned mixed breed examined her soon-to-be competitors, retailers whom tended their market stalls and stone-and-mortar businesses. The humble open marketplace took the brunt of the rain, the downpour drowning out the ordinarily noisy bargaining and haggling of products.
Some retailers obviously planned ahead for rainy days and unfurled cloth canopies over their point of sale, to keep their appreciative customers as dry as possible. Other business owners hadn’t invested in rain-deflective canopies, and likewise the customers they hoped to have weren’t investing in them. The observation proved enlightening to the originally cave-dwelling half drow, half dwarf. Businesses in Kachuck never needed to manage environmental conditions like rain. The winter freeze and the odd snowstorm ravaging the mountain had been more of an issue.
Plenty of food for hungry bellies lined the market stalls, all colours of fruit and vegetables, baked breads and pastries, many varieties of meat and especially fish - a few businesses even fried fish right before one’s very eyes and beneath one’s nose. A clever trick to convince potential buyers that, yes, they were indeed hungry and should trade to fill their empty stomachs. The businesses without reliable roofing couldn’t provide the heady aromas and potent smells. Scents which drew the town’s citizens beneath their shelters and close to their sizzling frying pans - where the customer would have the hardest time resisting a purchase.
Stonevale’s market was modest and Yvonne’s rivals would be few and far between, however a surface market played by different rules which she would need to know intimately. Without the knowledge of the area and sources of product - without knowing who the leading retailers were and which commodities they traded - without owning and operating a storehouse or warehouse, opening a business could go belly-up quicker than she blinked.
The shrewd trader would have been nothing if she had not learned to be astute. Her sharp, perceptive eyes could swiftly assess her current circumstances to find an escape route, detect a weakness or - as was the case here - exploit a business opportunity. What these people needed, particularly on a rainy day such as this one, was a steaming cup of tea. A cozy place to dry off and sit a spell wouldn’t be too bad either, to enjoy the miserable weather through a closed window, by a roaring hearth while reading a good book.
You couldn’t compete with the local inn or the rowdy pub down the road a ways by night, but by day these places closed up to clean up. Not many were interested in alcohol during the early hours or through the noonday. This was an opportunity to offer something else, a ‘house of tea’ which would be open throughout the day and into the night. If she could arrange suppliers, logistics, employees and settle on payment for each, she would know how expensive her tea haven would be to visit. Drive the price down in any reasonable way, to make the experience affordable and the more popular (and profitable) it would become.
An unusual individual entered her peripheral line of sight, interrupting her business considerations. Quite a tall male even from this distance and, by the way he carried himself and protected his body with a complete set of leather armour from neck to toe, Yvonne immediately pegged him for a warrior or a rogue. He wore intimidation like she wore confidence, but none of that had taken her by her shimmering silver eye and turned her head.
His blue skin had drawn her attention to him. That narrowed the possibilities of his race down substantially and she’d bet against him being a fae in a heartbeat. No, and he was tall but not tall enough to be a frost giant. Only one race lingered in her mind unable to be ruled out, but that race made no sense whatsoever. Finding one here in the small mining town of Stonevale, on this little backwater rock of Scara Brae seemed as unlikely as finding her. They shared a border on the other side of the world for crying out loud. In a different life they would have been bloodthirsty enemies, vying for land and resources, for continued existence.
Yvonne approached the Haidian demon and then turned, walking parallel alongside him, deciding it best to keep more than a sword-length distance. She supposed he, like everyone else, just wanted a hot meal and a place to keep the rain off, however the fact that they were geographical neighbours certainly didn’t make them friendly with each other. First she had to test the waters, see for herself how much of a threat he could be.
“What in tha volcanic, geothermal-blazes of Tular would ye be doing, stomping around a backwater country like Scara Brae!? Did ye trip over one of yer rocky crags, fall over tha Raiaeran Sea, knock yer head on Corone on tha way through and crash land in Stonevale, or what?†Yvonne questioned in her most pleasant tone.
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