Chapter 277 - Cooks and Crooks IX
Lia placed her hands on her hips and huffed as she watched the double doors close behind her. The lyrkress’ expression—a subtle smile by most standards but a blatant smirk by hers—left the cat with a headache and a half. She wanted to scold her for the inconsiderate prank, but she knew that she wouldn’t listen. In all likelihood, Claire would simply fall asleep without so much as hearing the fifth word to come out of her mouth.
Even worse was her own take on the event. She couldn’t stay mad, not after seeing the mischievous glimmer in the halfbreed’s eyes. For some ridiculous, unbelievable reason, she was more cross with herself than she was her companion. She hated her inability to approach the problem with a clear and rational mind—a spark that only served as a downward spiral that plagued her already aching brain.
“Looks like your friend liked the food.” The pirate greeted her with a toothy grin. He was seated in the middle of the massive room, legs crossed, and his arms held in a meditative pose. His shirt was gone, revealing a bare chest covered in the same old wounds as his arms, and his dress pants had been replaced by a pair of shorts, ripped at the end of each leg by his bulging, muscular thighs.
Of course, that was not to say that his clothes had simply upped and vanished. They were carefully folded in a neat pile and placed in the far corner, right beside the weapon rack. His ladle was there too, doubling as a weight to keep his garments in place.
“It’s pretty rare for her to like something,” said Natalya, with a faint smile. “You must be one skilled chef.”
The lion shrugged. “It comes with time. Anyone that’s been at it for as long as me is bound to pick up a few tricks.” He took a swig from one of the wine bottles seated beside him while offering the other to his prospective employer. “What are you doing still standing up? Come on, relax.”
“Relax?” Natalya adjusted her glasses as her tail curiously rose into the air. “I thought we were going to spar.”
“Spar? Why the hell would we spar?” he asked, with a hearty laugh.
“Didn’t you just crack your knuckles?”
“My joints aren’t what they used to be,” he said, with another crack of the neck. “I didn’t even realise that this was an indoor arena. I assumed it was an office.”
“Right. We should probably carve a few windows into the doors.” Smiling awkwardly, she sat down in front of the lion and accepted the drink. “So what were you looking to talk about?”
“I wanted to hear more about this whole thing you’ve got going on. Thing is, I’m looking for something that’ll be stable in the long run, and the little birdie I know that told me about this place said that it’s got good prospects. And a connection with the Silkroad Company. Is that true?”
Natalya flicked the cap off her bottle and took a small sip. “The Silkroad Company’s proprietress happens to be a personal contact of mine, but she has no stake in this business,” said Natalya. “However, we were provided with a written guarantee that the Silkroad Company will purchase any high-quality goods that we happen to procure.”
“So they aren’t backing you, but it’s not like they’re leaving you out to dry either.” The lion scratched his head, a pensive frown on his lips.
“Exactly,” said Lia, with a nod. “We have a few other connections as well, but I would rather not discuss our network in detail for the time being. It doesn’t matter how well acquainted we are if we aren’t profitable.”
“And how’s everything going on that front?”
“There have been a few good signs, but we’re still a little bit shy of hitting our target. I’ve been drafting up a few plans to put us back on the right path, and hiring a cook is near the top of my list.”
“Hmmmm… Sounds like you have the right attitude at least. I thought you’d just be another rich brat, but you seem pretty earnest.” Garm crossed his arms and gave her an appraising look. “Alright, I’m in.”
Lia produced her notebook and quickly scribbled in a few lines. “That’s great,” she said, with a smile. “Based on your skill level, your salary should be in the range o—”
“Hold on. I wasn’t done.” The lion raised a hand. “Now the thing is, we pirates have a rule. And I might be retired from that sorta life, but it ain’t exactly easy to abandon your old habits.” He emptied the rest of his bottle and slowly got to his feet. “And the rule is that we only listen to people that are stronger than us. So either you or yer crew has gotta put me in my place if ye ain’t wanton’ no ideas aboot some mutiny.”
Natalya closed her notebook and pressed its spine against her forehead. Her eyes were closed, and her breath a tired sigh. “Didn’t you just say that we weren't going to spar?”
“That fur ah wasn’t taken’ ye seriously,” his eyes twinkled and his words accelerated. “I thought you was just a dumb wee lassie wi’ too much cash on her hauns, aye? Bit it turns oot ye’ve git a good hauf gid head on yer shoulde—” He clasped a hand over his mouth, prompted largely by the smaller cat’s raised brow. “Sorry,” he said, with a cough. “Force of habit.”
Lia smiled awkwardly. “Right.” She placed her drink by the weapon rack and drew a wooden longsword. “What do you normally use?”
“A sharpened oar would be great, even better if it had an arbalest on it.” He said, with a chuckle. “But a regular spear’ll do just fine.”
“We can arrange for one,” said Lia. “One second.” She pushed the door open and stuck her head outside. “Sylvie! Can I borrow you for a second?”
“Uhhhmm… sure? What’s up?” The fox, who was already done eating, wandered over to the gym in her elven form.
“Can you make him a weapon really quickly? He has something really specific in mind.”
“Mmmk.” She took half a moment to look into the man’s eyes before lightly humming into existence the object lingering in the back of his head. One moment, it was a chunk of magic, and the next, it was built perfectly to spec. There were a dozen arrows set down on the floor beside it, as well as a quiver, the design of which featured a lion’s skull with a thick mane scribbled into its tassel.
“Ye hae git to be kiddin me. I hadn’t hauf a chance to even describe the damn thing.” Garm picked the weapon up in his massive claws, and after prodding himself in the cheek and drawing a sliver of blood, immediately returned to his seated position. His weapon was set down in front of him, and his hands were held in the air. “I yield.”
Lia smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. She’s always been a little… ridiculous.”
“Uhhhmmmmm… I’m not really sure what’s going on, but does this mean he’s gonna join us?” asked the fox.
“That’s the plan,” he said. “So long as the job comes with room and board, on top of a half-decent wage.”
Lia placed her blade back on the shelf and arranged the oar beside it as she considered his terms. “I was going to start by offering two silver pieces a month, which should easily cover both.”
Even in a bustling metropolis like Vel’khagan, one silver piece a month was enough to comfortably get by. Though the precise value would change, based on the market’s conditions, a single silver piece was usually worth about two hundred and fifty coppers. A sizable apartment in the nicer part of town cost about a hundred a month, and decent grub ran the same number. Taxes had previously required yet another hundred, but with the new queen’s most recent reforms, that particular expense had fallen closer to sixty. Two silvers was enough to indulge in luxury, as a chef so skilled would surely desire.
“But if you’re looking for room and board specifically, I’ll have to have a bit of a chat with the others first. Would you mind waiting here while we sort that out? It should only be a few minutes.”
The lion nodded. “‘Course.”
“Great. We’ll be right back.” Foxgirl in tow, Lia stepped out of the gym and closed the door behind her, only to be immediately met with a prod. A less lyrkrian Claire was standing on the other side with an unhappy glare sitting on her face.
“I’m not living with an old man.”
“I figured you’d say that,” said Lia, with a quiet giggle. “I was thinking that we could maybe add another floor to the shop instead. Like a dorm for the employees.”
“Can’t we just stick him in one of those?” asked Sylvia. She pointed to the napping rooms, all of which were vacant, courtesy of a certain tiny bear’s departure.
“I know that would work, but I don’t like the idea of an employee having full access to the store after hours. I wouldn’t mind if it was one of you, but I can’t really trust a new hire the same way.”
“Oh… That’s a good point,” said the fox. “But how would having another floor fix that anyway? Wouldn’t it still be the same?”
“I was thinking that we could make it so that the second floor’s rooms are only accessible from the outside,” explained Natalya. “Like how some of the apartment buildings do it.”
“Rejected,” said Claire. “That would ruin the building’s aesthetic.”
“Right. I guess it would look a little strange for someone to be randomly living on top of the business,” muttered the cat.
“Oh, oh, oh! I have an idea!” said Sylvia, with a hand raised. “What if we added a thingy that floats above the building instead? So kinda like one of those giant battleship mansions that Claire’s people have, but not a castle. I dunno how their stuff works, but I can probably make ours with magic. It can be like, a giant flying boat or something, since he’s a sailor.”
“That doesn’t address the problem,” said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. “It’d still ruin the aesthetic.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll look awesome,” said Sylvia. “People’ll probably come see it just ‘cause it’s neat.”
“If we’re worried about how it looks, why don’t we just use the warehouse instead?” suggested Natalya. “It’s not like we’re getting much other use out of it right now anyway.”
The cat had tried to make use of the gambled space, but there was far too little product to justify its continued existence. The number of goods stocked was hardly enough to fill one of its corners; they could have very easily moved it all into the store without adding to the clutter.
“That could work,” said Claire.
“I still kinda wanna do the floating boat thing, but that’s okay too I guess,” agreed Sylvia.
“Great. I’ll go give him the news.” Lia jotted a few things into her notebook as she made her way back into the gym and discussed the updated conditions. His pay would be docked accordingly, down from two silvers to one and a half, but he would be allowed to use the shop’s ingredients as he pleased, free of charge. The extra seventy-five coppers served as a buffer or allowance that would cover any days wherein the shop happened to be closed. She didn’t have any such events planned for the foreseeable future, but they seemed likely enough, all things considered.
Garm had happily taken the deal without bothering to negotiate. It was decided that he would move in later that week, following the building’s renovation. As for the work itself, that began as soon as he signed the contract. He was already sitting in the kitchen, brooding over the various menu items that he intended to serve.
Everyone else had more or less returned to their posts. Lia and Sylvia manned the desk, while Claire slept in one of the many vacant rooms. There were even a few customers rolling in on occasion, most of whom asked Lia for some sort of advice or other.
For a brief moment, it looked like the rest of the morning would proceed as usual, but there was a knock on the door just as the thought passed through the catgirl’s mind. A lady in a white coat walked through, her hands in her pockets and a smoking pipe in her mouth. Her leathery wings were slumped behind her, dragging along the ground with her cetacean tail. The siren’s eyebags were ever present, the impression of which was only worsened by her monocle.
“Doesn’t really look like a clinic. Am I in the right place?” she muttered the question to herself as she looked around. She even stepped out for a moment to look at the sign before returning to the store’s interior. Once back inside, she slowly looked around, nodding first at the familiar lion and then directing her attention towards the front desk.
“Oh! Hey Stella!” said Sylvia, with a friendly wave.
The freshly unemployed vet raised a brow. “Do I know you?”
“What the heck! This is literally the third time we’ve met!” huffed the fox. “How the heck did you already forget!? We talked for like a whole hour yesterday!”
“Your voice seems familiar, but…” The doctor looked the girl up and down. “You seem a lot bigger, and your bone structure doesn’t seem to match.”
“Well, yeah! Fairies don’t need that many bones,” huffed the fox. “Anyway! I’m glad you finally made it! Claire’s asleep right now, but Lia can probably tell you everything.” She grabbed the other girl by the shoulders and moved her between them.
“Good morning.” The catgirl smiled awkwardly and extended her hand. “I’m Natalya Vernelle, Armidian Fastpaw, and the owner of The Misguided Adventurers’ Consulting Company.”
“Estelle Dupont, Starsand Siren.” The vet pulled a pale hand out of her coat and lightly shook the catgirl’s extended mitt. The limb was retracted as soon as they were done. She wiped it on the hem of her coat and shoved it back into her pocket. “I’m a doctor, and I was told that this was supposed to be the clinic of my dreams.”
“I’m not so sure about the dreams part, but we are looking for medical staff,” said Natalya. “Our healer is great when it counts,” she turned her eyes on the fox in question, “but she spends most of her time napping, and isn’t trained in classical theory.”
“Mmmmnnn, I don’t nap that much,” said Sylvia. “I’m definitely up for at least four hours a day.”
“Setting that aside for now,” said Lia, with a chuckle, “would you like to take a look at the facility?”
The doctor nodded. “Please.”
“Right this way then.” Lia got out from behind the counter and walked to the far side of the building. “I’m not really sure what Claire told you, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s pretty much a standard medical ward. We’re short on supplies at the moment since Sylvia just handles everything with magic, but we’d be happy to stock up on whatever is needed.”
The infirmary was fairly high-traffic; the average citizen was fairly slow to regenerate their health, given the lack of a reason to invest any points in vitality. As such, it was common practice to stop by the nearest healer’s when injured, even if the wound was likely to close over the course of the day. It was simply more efficient to throw away a few spare coppers and jump back into work than it was to take a day of leave, in the case of an accident—and oh so many accidents there were.
Because of the widespread availability of medical services, each labour site was prone to seeing a few injuries a day; the only safety precautions taken were present to ensure that no one was instantly killed, for a man with even a sliver of health could immediately be restored to working order with a casual touch. There were a number of medical offices on the main street, but the cat’s shop was the only one on fourth, and it just so happened to be slightly more convenient for those working in the surrounding area.
Sylvia hadn’t quite minded the first few patients, but she was steadily growing more annoyed with constantly waking up just to fix some idiot’s broken shoulder or twisted ankle.
When Lia entered the ward, she found that it too had gone through a number of changes since she had last seen it. Most notably, there was another room at the far end, guarded by a glass door. It was a highly vertical space with a number of small cauldrons hanging above a hearth. Everything else was still the same, albeit a little less messy than usual. The bandages, for once, were in the cabinets as opposed to strewn about, and only the fox’s favourite bed was left with its sheets unfolded. The rest were prim and proper, sporting only a few random medical tools scattered atop their mattresses.
While Lia was somewhat embarrassed, mainly by the bed still covered in fox hair, the doctor had a gleam in her eyes. She looked around for a few moments, inspecting the various materials before finally plopping herself down on the examination table. “Not bad,” she said, with a puff of smoke. She pulled a few items out of her pockets and threw each at the cat in turn. One was her information broker’s license, while the other was a medical equivalent issued by the local college. “One silver a week and I’m all yours.”
“H-huh?” The catgirl’s cheeks reddened. “I’m flattered, but I’ve alre—er, I mean, that seems a little high.”
With five weeks in a month, she would be earning more than twice as much as the chef.
“I’m worth it,” said the siren, as she regarded the cat with a raised brow. “I’ll double as a broker while I’m here, and I’ll use what I know to hook you up with anyone you need. Hell, I’ll even volunteer any information that seems like it might be relevant.”
“Let me think about it for a second.” Lia grabbed her notepad and quickly scribbled in a few numbers. She moved a few of them around and repeated a number of transactions. When she finally snapped the book shut, roughly two full minutes later, she did so with her lips twisted into a frown. “Four a month is the best I can do for now, but we can bump it up if your information brokerage brings in enough customers. Let’s say… at least twenty a week?”
The siren spent a few moments with her arms in her pockets, fiddling with some object or other as she crunched the numbers. “Alright. Deal.” Her lips were twisted into a smile. A content but fierce grin.
The silver-haired girl was right. The misguided-whatever-it-was-called was the perfect place to start anew.
Chapter 277 - Cooks and Crooks IX
Lia placed her hands on her hips and huffed as she watched the double doors close behind her. The lyrkress’ expression—a subtle smile by most standards but a blatant smirk by hers—left the cat with a headache and a half. She wanted to scold her for the inconsiderate prank, but she knew that she wouldn’t listen. In all likelihood, Claire would simply fall asleep without so much as hearing the fifth word to come out of her mouth.
Even worse was her own take on the event. She couldn’t stay mad, not after seeing the mischievous glimmer in the halfbreed’s eyes. For some ridiculous, unbelievable reason, she was more cross with herself than she was her companion. She hated her inability to approach the problem with a clear and rational mind—a spark that only served as a downward spiral that plagued her already aching brain.
“Looks like your friend liked the food.” The pirate greeted her with a toothy grin. He was seated in the middle of the massive room, legs crossed, and his arms held in a meditative pose. His shirt was gone, revealing a bare chest covered in the same old wounds as his arms, and his dress pants had been replaced by a pair of shorts, ripped at the end of each leg by his bulging, muscular thighs.
Of course, that was not to say that his clothes had simply upped and vanished. They were carefully folded in a neat pile and placed in the far corner, right beside the weapon rack. His ladle was there too, doubling as a weight to keep his garments in place.
“It’s pretty rare for her to like something,” said Natalya, with a faint smile. “You must be one skilled chef.”
The lion shrugged. “It comes with time. Anyone that’s been at it for as long as me is bound to pick up a few tricks.” He took a swig from one of the wine bottles seated beside him while offering the other to his prospective employer. “What are you doing still standing up? Come on, relax.”
“Relax?” Natalya adjusted her glasses as her tail curiously rose into the air. “I thought we were going to spar.”
“Spar? Why the hell would we spar?” he asked, with a hearty laugh.
“Didn’t you just crack your knuckles?”
“My joints aren’t what they used to be,” he said, with another crack of the neck. “I didn’t even realise that this was an indoor arena. I assumed it was an office.”
“Right. We should probably carve a few windows into the doors.” Smiling awkwardly, she sat down in front of the lion and accepted the drink. “So what were you looking to talk about?”
“I wanted to hear more about this whole thing you’ve got going on. Thing is, I’m looking for something that’ll be stable in the long run, and the little birdie I know that told me about this place said that it’s got good prospects. And a connection with the Silkroad Company. Is that true?”
Natalya flicked the cap off her bottle and took a small sip. “The Silkroad Company’s proprietress happens to be a personal contact of mine, but she has no stake in this business,” said Natalya. “However, we were provided with a written guarantee that the Silkroad Company will purchase any high-quality goods that we happen to procure.”
“So they aren’t backing you, but it’s not like they’re leaving you out to dry either.” The lion scratched his head, a pensive frown on his lips.
“Exactly,” said Lia, with a nod. “We have a few other connections as well, but I would rather not discuss our network in detail for the time being. It doesn’t matter how well acquainted we are if we aren’t profitable.”
“And how’s everything going on that front?”
“There have been a few good signs, but we’re still a little bit shy of hitting our target. I’ve been drafting up a few plans to put us back on the right path, and hiring a cook is near the top of my list.”
“Hmmmm… Sounds like you have the right attitude at least. I thought you’d just be another rich brat, but you seem pretty earnest.” Garm crossed his arms and gave her an appraising look. “Alright, I’m in.”
Lia produced her notebook and quickly scribbled in a few lines. “That’s great,” she said, with a smile. “Based on your skill level, your salary should be in the range o—”
“Hold on. I wasn’t done.” The lion raised a hand. “Now the thing is, we pirates have a rule. And I might be retired from that sorta life, but it ain’t exactly easy to abandon your old habits.” He emptied the rest of his bottle and slowly got to his feet. “And the rule is that we only listen to people that are stronger than us. So either you or yer crew has gotta put me in my place if ye ain’t wanton’ no ideas aboot some mutiny.”
Natalya closed her notebook and pressed its spine against her forehead. Her eyes were closed, and her breath a tired sigh. “Didn’t you just say that we weren't going to spar?”
“That fur ah wasn’t taken’ ye seriously,” his eyes twinkled and his words accelerated. “I thought you was just a dumb wee lassie wi’ too much cash on her hauns, aye? Bit it turns oot ye’ve git a good hauf gid head on yer shoulde—” He clasped a hand over his mouth, prompted largely by the smaller cat’s raised brow. “Sorry,” he said, with a cough. “Force of habit.”
Lia smiled awkwardly. “Right.” She placed her drink by the weapon rack and drew a wooden longsword. “What do you normally use?”
“A sharpened oar would be great, even better if it had an arbalest on it.” He said, with a chuckle. “But a regular spear’ll do just fine.”
“We can arrange for one,” said Lia. “One second.” She pushed the door open and stuck her head outside. “Sylvie! Can I borrow you for a second?”
“Uhhhmm… sure? What’s up?” The fox, who was already done eating, wandered over to the gym in her elven form.
“Can you make him a weapon really quickly? He has something really specific in mind.”
“Mmmk.” She took half a moment to look into the man’s eyes before lightly humming into existence the object lingering in the back of his head. One moment, it was a chunk of magic, and the next, it was built perfectly to spec. There were a dozen arrows set down on the floor beside it, as well as a quiver, the design of which featured a lion’s skull with a thick mane scribbled into its tassel.
“Ye hae git to be kiddin me. I hadn’t hauf a chance to even describe the damn thing.” Garm picked the weapon up in his massive claws, and after prodding himself in the cheek and drawing a sliver of blood, immediately returned to his seated position. His weapon was set down in front of him, and his hands were held in the air. “I yield.”
Lia smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. She’s always been a little… ridiculous.”
“Uhhhmmmmm… I’m not really sure what’s going on, but does this mean he’s gonna join us?” asked the fox.
“That’s the plan,” he said. “So long as the job comes with room and board, on top of a half-decent wage.”
Lia placed her blade back on the shelf and arranged the oar beside it as she considered his terms. “I was going to start by offering two silver pieces a month, which should easily cover both.”
Even in a bustling metropolis like Vel’khagan, one silver piece a month was enough to comfortably get by. Though the precise value would change, based on the market’s conditions, a single silver piece was usually worth about two hundred and fifty coppers. A sizable apartment in the nicer part of town cost about a hundred a month, and decent grub ran the same number. Taxes had previously required yet another hundred, but with the new queen’s most recent reforms, that particular expense had fallen closer to sixty. Two silvers was enough to indulge in luxury, as a chef so skilled would surely desire.
“But if you’re looking for room and board specifically, I’ll have to have a bit of a chat with the others first. Would you mind waiting here while we sort that out? It should only be a few minutes.”
The lion nodded. “‘Course.”
“Great. We’ll be right back.” Foxgirl in tow, Lia stepped out of the gym and closed the door behind her, only to be immediately met with a prod. A less lyrkrian Claire was standing on the other side with an unhappy glare sitting on her face.
“I’m not living with an old man.”
“I figured you’d say that,” said Lia, with a quiet giggle. “I was thinking that we could maybe add another floor to the shop instead. Like a dorm for the employees.”
“Can’t we just stick him in one of those?” asked Sylvia. She pointed to the napping rooms, all of which were vacant, courtesy of a certain tiny bear’s departure.
“I know that would work, but I don’t like the idea of an employee having full access to the store after hours. I wouldn’t mind if it was one of you, but I can’t really trust a new hire the same way.”
“Oh… That’s a good point,” said the fox. “But how would having another floor fix that anyway? Wouldn’t it still be the same?”
“I was thinking that we could make it so that the second floor’s rooms are only accessible from the outside,” explained Natalya. “Like how some of the apartment buildings do it.”
“Rejected,” said Claire. “That would ruin the building’s aesthetic.”
“Right. I guess it would look a little strange for someone to be randomly living on top of the business,” muttered the cat.
“Oh, oh, oh! I have an idea!” said Sylvia, with a hand raised. “What if we added a thingy that floats above the building instead? So kinda like one of those giant battleship mansions that Claire’s people have, but not a castle. I dunno how their stuff works, but I can probably make ours with magic. It can be like, a giant flying boat or something, since he’s a sailor.”
“That doesn’t address the problem,” said Claire, with a roll of the eyes. “It’d still ruin the aesthetic.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll look awesome,” said Sylvia. “People’ll probably come see it just ‘cause it’s neat.”
“If we’re worried about how it looks, why don’t we just use the warehouse instead?” suggested Natalya. “It’s not like we’re getting much other use out of it right now anyway.”
The cat had tried to make use of the gambled space, but there was far too little product to justify its continued existence. The number of goods stocked was hardly enough to fill one of its corners; they could have very easily moved it all into the store without adding to the clutter.
“That could work,” said Claire.
“I still kinda wanna do the floating boat thing, but that’s okay too I guess,” agreed Sylvia.
“Great. I’ll go give him the news.” Lia jotted a few things into her notebook as she made her way back into the gym and discussed the updated conditions. His pay would be docked accordingly, down from two silvers to one and a half, but he would be allowed to use the shop’s ingredients as he pleased, free of charge. The extra seventy-five coppers served as a buffer or allowance that would cover any days wherein the shop happened to be closed. She didn’t have any such events planned for the foreseeable future, but they seemed likely enough, all things considered.
Garm had happily taken the deal without bothering to negotiate. It was decided that he would move in later that week, following the building’s renovation. As for the work itself, that began as soon as he signed the contract. He was already sitting in the kitchen, brooding over the various menu items that he intended to serve.
Everyone else had more or less returned to their posts. Lia and Sylvia manned the desk, while Claire slept in one of the many vacant rooms. There were even a few customers rolling in on occasion, most of whom asked Lia for some sort of advice or other.
For a brief moment, it looked like the rest of the morning would proceed as usual, but there was a knock on the door just as the thought passed through the catgirl’s mind. A lady in a white coat walked through, her hands in her pockets and a smoking pipe in her mouth. Her leathery wings were slumped behind her, dragging along the ground with her cetacean tail. The siren’s eyebags were ever present, the impression of which was only worsened by her monocle.
“Doesn’t really look like a clinic. Am I in the right place?” she muttered the question to herself as she looked around. She even stepped out for a moment to look at the sign before returning to the store’s interior. Once back inside, she slowly looked around, nodding first at the familiar lion and then directing her attention towards the front desk.
“Oh! Hey Stella!” said Sylvia, with a friendly wave.
The freshly unemployed vet raised a brow. “Do I know you?”
“What the heck! This is literally the third time we’ve met!” huffed the fox. “How the heck did you already forget!? We talked for like a whole hour yesterday!”
“Your voice seems familiar, but…” The doctor looked the girl up and down. “You seem a lot bigger, and your bone structure doesn’t seem to match.”
“Well, yeah! Fairies don’t need that many bones,” huffed the fox. “Anyway! I’m glad you finally made it! Claire’s asleep right now, but Lia can probably tell you everything.” She grabbed the other girl by the shoulders and moved her between them.
“Good morning.” The catgirl smiled awkwardly and extended her hand. “I’m Natalya Vernelle, Armidian Fastpaw, and the owner of The Misguided Adventurers’ Consulting Company.”
“Estelle Dupont, Starsand Siren.” The vet pulled a pale hand out of her coat and lightly shook the catgirl’s extended mitt. The limb was retracted as soon as they were done. She wiped it on the hem of her coat and shoved it back into her pocket. “I’m a doctor, and I was told that this was supposed to be the clinic of my dreams.”
“I’m not so sure about the dreams part, but we are looking for medical staff,” said Natalya. “Our healer is great when it counts,” she turned her eyes on the fox in question, “but she spends most of her time napping, and isn’t trained in classical theory.”
“Mmmmnnn, I don’t nap that much,” said Sylvia. “I’m definitely up for at least four hours a day.”
“Setting that aside for now,” said Lia, with a chuckle, “would you like to take a look at the facility?”
The doctor nodded. “Please.”
“Right this way then.” Lia got out from behind the counter and walked to the far side of the building. “I’m not really sure what Claire told you, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. It’s pretty much a standard medical ward. We’re short on supplies at the moment since Sylvia just handles everything with magic, but we’d be happy to stock up on whatever is needed.”
The infirmary was fairly high-traffic; the average citizen was fairly slow to regenerate their health, given the lack of a reason to invest any points in vitality. As such, it was common practice to stop by the nearest healer’s when injured, even if the wound was likely to close over the course of the day. It was simply more efficient to throw away a few spare coppers and jump back into work than it was to take a day of leave, in the case of an accident—and oh so many accidents there were.
Because of the widespread availability of medical services, each labour site was prone to seeing a few injuries a day; the only safety precautions taken were present to ensure that no one was instantly killed, for a man with even a sliver of health could immediately be restored to working order with a casual touch. There were a number of medical offices on the main street, but the cat’s shop was the only one on fourth, and it just so happened to be slightly more convenient for those working in the surrounding area.
Sylvia hadn’t quite minded the first few patients, but she was steadily growing more annoyed with constantly waking up just to fix some idiot’s broken shoulder or twisted ankle.
When Lia entered the ward, she found that it too had gone through a number of changes since she had last seen it. Most notably, there was another room at the far end, guarded by a glass door. It was a highly vertical space with a number of small cauldrons hanging above a hearth. Everything else was still the same, albeit a little less messy than usual. The bandages, for once, were in the cabinets as opposed to strewn about, and only the fox’s favourite bed was left with its sheets unfolded. The rest were prim and proper, sporting only a few random medical tools scattered atop their mattresses.
While Lia was somewhat embarrassed, mainly by the bed still covered in fox hair, the doctor had a gleam in her eyes. She looked around for a few moments, inspecting the various materials before finally plopping herself down on the examination table. “Not bad,” she said, with a puff of smoke. She pulled a few items out of her pockets and threw each at the cat in turn. One was her information broker’s license, while the other was a medical equivalent issued by the local college. “One silver a week and I’m all yours.”
“H-huh?” The catgirl’s cheeks reddened. “I’m flattered, but I’ve alre—er, I mean, that seems a little high.”
With five weeks in a month, she would be earning more than twice as much as the chef.
“I’m worth it,” said the siren, as she regarded the cat with a raised brow. “I’ll double as a broker while I’m here, and I’ll use what I know to hook you up with anyone you need. Hell, I’ll even volunteer any information that seems like it might be relevant.”
“Let me think about it for a second.” Lia grabbed her notepad and quickly scribbled in a few numbers. She moved a few of them around and repeated a number of transactions. When she finally snapped the book shut, roughly two full minutes later, she did so with her lips twisted into a frown. “Four a month is the best I can do for now, but we can bump it up if your information brokerage brings in enough customers. Let’s say… at least twenty a week?”
The siren spent a few moments with her arms in her pockets, fiddling with some object or other as she crunched the numbers. “Alright. Deal.” Her lips were twisted into a smile. A content but fierce grin.
The silver-haired girl was right. The misguided-whatever-it-was-called was the perfect place to start anew.
