Jerome
There lies from dawn to dusk, a lowly man who wears nothing more than dark robes as dark as ebony and the twilight above in the void of space. Yet he wears a porcelain mask of tinted white ivory, having the aesthetic appearance of an aviary creature; the beak of a crow. He was merely on the side of the walkway, near the waters where he showcases his herbs, ingredients, and potions in full display for everyone to see. Neatly presented on a rough and tattered blanket. Beside him was a ridiculously large backpack that could easily be mistaken for a goliath's. All his necromantic gear are held within it. 

However, no one even dared to buy from him. From morning till evening, not a single soul. And it was the same as well in capital square and marketplace, he could hear it. The whispers of the cityfolk, of him being associated of something dark and evil for merely dressing all in black. Is it his fault that evil has corrupted the pure aspect of darkness? Nay, but it has been the victim of mortal morality and alignment. As such, he would judge those who whispered gossips, and those eyes filled with uneasiness and fear.

"***....***" Even if the sun is setting upon the horizon of the ocean blue, he would remain in his place. Not moving an inch until he had sold an item to a customer. After all, he is honoring his late guardian. At least one sold item can possibly change the lifetime of a person. For that good of that possible individual, he will stay. Though he is not mad enough to sleep near where insects like mosquitos would pester him. Then again, he has nowhere else to go.
 
He needs to conserve coin to the next city destination. Traveling towards the far east could take a week, or perhaps a month. And someone like him doesn't have the coin to use any wayshrines. Financial Crisis at its finest. Graveyards are also a no-go for resting and sleeping since it would be fairly obvious if somehow the dead awoke in his presence.

-
Though that is for the future, for now, he must continue and wait. After all, in these moments, they are merely a fraction of a second to him. He felt longer times at a world beyond this one, and he still doesn't like re-visiting it in his dreams. Not one bit.
Everett
*Just down the dock, Magnus was having a conversation with the local dockmaster. One of the difficult parts of being a pirate is otherwise simple ship's maintenance. While for a common merchant it was rather easy to get a ship drydocked to replace important timbers, Magnus had a significant problem in the fact that his ship was once a warship in the Gantrick Navy, and most dockyards were understandably reluctant to provide refit for a pirated vessel, let alone one once part of the Gantrick navy. That would spark a whole firestorm of chaos.*

*However, this was a case where his selective nature of Piracy payed off. Having not committed many crimes against Findara, he had garnered a bit of reputation with the people of Findara, courageously fighting against slavery. This helped him greatly as the populace often hid him while he was in port, allowing him to use Findara as a consistent resupply point. However, the dockyard masters were a little harder to persuade. In their case, it usually required a little bit of sham paperwork and a bit of coin to convince them to turn a blind eye to his activities.*

*He walked up to the dockmaster, taking care to be discrete. He had a brief conversation with him before handing over a small pouch of coin. That completed Magnus turned and began walking down the street quietly, in the direction of Lawrence.*
Jerome
On the edge of his lens, he would find an individual slowly approaching his way towards him. "***A customer!***" He thought to himself, fixing his posture and making sure his available items are clean and pristine for Magnus to see and inspect. When the man was a few feet away from him, the alchemist began to speak in a raspy and demonic voice. It held an ominous and dreadful tone to it, with little hints of pained groans as he continued to spoke words out from his porcelain white mask.

"**Good evening, good sir. Would you like to take a look at my wares?**" With some courteous mannerisms and noble etiquette, he tries to have at least one customer for this day. Hoping that this man would be the one to purchase his hard-earned ingredients and perhaps make his day a little more lively with one item from his most valued inventory stock. "**These are all freshly picked from the wintery fields of Eastern Gantrick, and the wilderness of the wild forests of Findara. There are also healing and stamina potions, both minor and moderate in its effects. Easy to accommodate in pockets as well as quick usages.**" Even if Magnus' attention was away, Lawrence will try to push forward until he notices him. For these few feet of distance can fade quite as fast as he approached and move away. Ignoring someone like him, but it feels different. This time, he will achieve his small victory.

"**For a sailor's sea sickness, I have honey to mend their nausea. Berries for a quick boost in energy for the body. As well as some adhesive for broken items.**" One might notice that he sound rather desperate than evil...
Everett
*Magnus slowed and turned towards the strange merchant. He looked over the individual and his wares, a slight attitude of suspicion visible on his face. Magnus didn't trust this odd shopkeeper, his grim outfit and ominous manner of speaking made him unsure about this merchant's intentions. Why he chose that outward appearance was beyond Magnus, but he felt it probably wasn't good for business.*

*He next turned to examine the various wares, a little put off by the stranger's eagerness to sell him a product. He wasn't sure what to think in all really, but the wares at least seemed good. He examined in particular the health potions. It wasn't often that ships put up a fight, but the times they did he had to pay a good deal of money for doctors for his crew. Health potions seemed to be a possible way to reduce such expenses. He may have a noble cause, but money was still money.* 

"So what do we have here?" *He said as browsed.* "Potions, cures, hopefully not any mislabeled jars of berry juice." *He turned to look at the merchant.* "Seasickness cures, interesting. I can think of a few lubbers who could use those. So how much of this do you have, mostly the health potions. It could prove useful."
Jerome
***Finally, a customer!***

"**I assure you, there are no jars of jam in my inventory. Unless you want to order a custom one from me, all you see here are made and hand picked by me. One of the freshest you would see in Findara's capital.**" With excitement, he would move to his large backpack beside him to rummage all glass bottles containing remedies of potions in his stock. To which he would lay down several bottles ranging from small to moderate sizes. Half of them would have a tinted scarlet color, while the other half is a clear white fluid.

"**Here. If you want to purchase all of them, it is 8 gold. But, as a first time customer, you will only but these for 5 gold. No strings attached, you'll have your potions of health and seasickness.**"

If Magnus would look carefully through the lenses of his porcelain mask, there would be a faint green glow from it. Having pupils that carries that of demonic heritage. Well with his voice, it was fairly obvious that he is really a creature from Infernum... Though at least that's what he wants to give impression of.

An idea popped out of Lawrence's mind, one that would give him an advantage of travel. And possibly, some excitement.

"**Or... You can give me passage to your ship. If by any chance that you may station yourself in the port cities around Findara, Lazaroth, Gantrick, Khisfire, or Alynthi, I could give these potions for free. And a temporary assistance to your ship. I am very sure that my usefulness can give you... A major advantage.**" He sounded rather ominous to those last few words, as if the man is getting excited.
Everett
*Magnus stood for a second, closely examining one of the health potions. As far as he could tell, it was real, but it would be up to Franklin, his Ship's surgeon to for sure say whether it is or not. If the lot were real, it would prove useful to have more medical supplies aboard. He thought for a few seconds.*

"You're selling the whole lot for 5 gold?" *He chuckled a little, still suspicious, especially due to the low price.* "So what all is here, in total? It will make things easier writing things down for the Quartermaster to keep track of."

*He thought for a few seconds about his request to travel aboard his ship. That could be very problematic. He usually only recruited trained sailors, and only then once he knew they wouldn't turn him into authorities the first. This, however, was a stranger. He was neither aware of who he had met nor proven that he wouldn't try to turn Magnus in. The last thing Magnus needed to do was let a security risk aboard.* 

"I don't normally carry passengers. My ship is a ship of war, not a passenger liner." *He hoped to continue the illusion of being a Findaran navy captain he had adopted with the harbor master. Yes, the bribe was necessary to get him to not look at the paperwork too closely, but at first glance, he hoped he would be taken as a naval officer.* "Passengers are a security risk, let alone the liability if you get injured."
Jerome
"**Ah, that is a shame. Traveling on foot outside the lands has become rather dangerous as of late. With bandits, thieves, monsters and wild magic running about, it is difficult to traverse through any of the kingdoms without any help.**" The man would simply breathe out a heavy sigh with arms crossed. A hand placed upon his porcelain beak to which he strokes it with gentleness and care as if it was his own chin.

"**That got me thinking... Are you part of Findara's Naval Fleet? Or are you a Privateer? I've been here all day and you're the only unfamiliar face I've seen in the docks. Let alone, around the capital.**" He gazes upon Magnus' eyes, seemingly rather curious. Though he wouldn't pry onto personal matters. "**But I blame the large size of the city. With it housing a lot of magical folk. Perhaps including you, sir.**"

An ominous chuckle would pour out from his lips, delivering a rather devilish sound by an already accompanying demonic voice. "**Speaking of magical, do you know of any rumors of an artifact of a god? You know, the type that was forged from their very power? Their very flesh and blood? Before you ask, I am just curious. After all, this kingdom is abundant with magic.**"
Everett
*Magnus thought for a few seconds about what he thought. He never heard of folks having difficulty traveling, with the wayshrines and all. The only real disadvantage was the lack of cargo transit. If there was a lot of bandits, well the sea wasn't much safer in that regard.*

"Well, so long as you don't have a cart or anything like that I'm sure you could take the wayshrines. Those things are a magical miracle. The only reason ships are still around is for cargo."

"My exact status with the Findaran navy is... 
 Complicated. But it does involve combat with pirates every now and then. Not at all safe for someone who's never been to sea. And no I don't normally operate from the Capital, mostly from Crasmere."

*When the man started talking about the gods and artifacts, he gave him a sideways glance. He was beginning to have an idea why he was having little luck selling potions. The man was probably a little mad.* "I beg your pardon? I've seen a lot of weird stuff in my days, but never heard of someone taking one of the gods and making something out of it. I highly doubt something like that is even possible."
Jerome
"**It is... Possible. Though the very idea of it is heretical that it aspires to have enemies of every worshipper of religion here in Lucidien. No one would dare harm the divines, except perhaps only demons from Infernum. Though... Fortunately or unfortunately, I am either more or worse than them.**" The masked individual would slowly shake his head as he moves down his face to look upon the wares in front of him.

Picking up a potion filled with crimson red liquid, he would take off his glove to reveal a very scarred hand. A multitude of large scars that almost wholly encompases his palm, as if he was stitched together into different parts of flesh. "**Now to your suggestion of wayshrines, I am afraid I cannot simply pass through there. People say that you see stars and twilight once you pass through. However, in my case, I see only incomprehensable spaces in between the cosmos of reality that tries to make a lick of sense out of anything. It was... A very messy first experience.**"

Reaching to his pockets, he would grab a small knife and made a small incision on his hand with one swift motion. His palm began to bleed, perhaps too much. More than what an ordinary human would bleed for in such a small injury. The smell of iron fills the air, but was soon extinguished by the application of a small ounce of the red potion upon the wound.

The potion has already taking effect with the bleeding slowly stopping. Lawrence immediately placed a piece of white cloth upon it before equipping his black glove once more. Though strangely, there was not even a single wince of pain that came from him. Not even a struggle, he was purely emotionless through the process.

"**As you can see, the potions I make are authentic and real. There is no need for you to be quite suspicious of its contents. Though if you want to further investigate it, then be my guest.**"
Everett
*Magnus was at first merely confused by the strange potion seller, but now he was convinced the man was mad. All this talk about the gods and the possibilities of them being injured sounded a lot like a few less than stable individuals he knew himself. He doubted his madness compromised his products. To be honest that might be what it came from, to many hours working with various magical chemicals.* 

*He reached into his coin purse and pulled out the 5 gold agreed upon. He placed the coin on the table, an odd mix of different denominations from different kingdoms, but in total worth the five gold coins agreed on. 

"I've never heard of that happening before," *He spoke, skipping over the slightly disturbing talk of heresy and seeking godlike power,* "Perhaps a sea voyage isn't the best idea for you either, if that is thecase. While it isn't staring into the void, landlubbers can have difficulty adjusting to the rigors of sailing life. A warship is far from comfortable for most everyone aboard. Then you have the risk of battle. Even if you walk away scratch free you don't entirely escape the trauma. Some folks can handle it and continue onwards, others have to go home, and live with that pain the rest of their lives. I am, however, interested in the potions. Here is the price you set."

*After thinking for a few moments, he threw a couple extra coins his way.* " I'll send a few men to pick up the potions, although if we find that some of them are less than expected, we will demand retribution. And another note. If you really do need to leave town in a hustle, find a armed caravan if you are worried about bandits. Hopefully that extra coin will cover the costs of their protection." *The thought also crossed his mind. Perhaps some fresh, non-alchemical air would help his sanity recover. Obviously whatever was in these bottles, he did not want to be around when they were made.*
Kent
Magnus: Sir this is a Wendy's.
Jerome
For a moment the man was quiet, as if contemplating the words he had heard. Placing a hand upon his porcelain mask, he would gently lift it up and placed it right beside one of his wares. Although, his face still remained veiled in blackened darkness as if Magnus was staring at the abyss. In a second, a couple of demonic green pupils would appear bearing a dim glow to them.

Unlike before where his voice was raspy, deep, demonic and seemingly ominous, this time it was different. Quite the opposite of how he sound like when he wore the mask. A sweet angelic voice that could easily be mistaken for that of a siren's voice. Like ambrosia for hearing, it was like listening a benevolent being. A compassionate and caring individual. Though by the his tone that he seems a little young. 

"**I trust your words, Sir Captain. I am not a man who can live out in sea and ignorant of the risks and dangers of a warship. If you are going to battle, then it is only fair of me to stand aside and let you do your duty in protecting the innocent life of this land.**" Picking up the few pieces of gold coins, he simply inserted it inside his robes and patting it lightly a few times. 

"**I'll wait for them to arrive then before my departure to Khisfire. You will not need a retribution. If you see my potions as unfit, we can always negotiate. Though an armed caravan...**" For a moment, his body would moderately shake as if excited by something. Though with one slap on one of his pockets, it immediately stopped. "**... I'll have to think about it.**"

"**Before you leave, are you going at war again? I may at least help you with your endeavors by giving a Blessing.**"
Everett
*So it was a youth behind the mask, or so he sounded. Magnus honestly couldn't tell what the fellow was from his face. Either way it didn't change much.*

*He nodded when the stranger mentioning protecting the people of the land. With how most governments, including this one, viewed him as a pirate, it provided a sharp contrast to his actual activities at sea. Yes, from a legal perspective they might be considered piratical, but freeing slaves, burning the slave ships, and bringing their owners to justice was certainly a form of protecting the innocent. And yes, he did target other ships as well, they were all enemies of Findara. If it wasn't for pointless diplomats keeping the kingdom from recognizing what he did on a daily basis he would be hailed as a hero by more than the common folk who heard his tales. But alas, the life of a common pirate had been given him, and he was to live it to the fullest.*

"They should arrive later today at the latest. They will have handkerchiefs with this bear on them." *He pulled out a black cloth with an intricate design of a bear on it. His flag. While he never directly mentioned anything, if Lawrence was knowledgeable about the tall tales the sailors told each other he might have heard something about a bear-flagged pirate who freed slaves and put corrupt captains to justice.* 

"That won't be necessary, thank you though. My ship will be in refit for some time, so it will be a while before I go to sea once more. It has been a pleasure doing business, perhaps, fate willing, we will meet each other again." *He tipped his hat in a measure of respect, and continued down the walkway to continue the business of getting his ship repaired.*
Jerome
With his introverted nature and fear of his appearance, he wasn't able to have the pleasure of hearing the tales of sailors and the like. Though from the intricacies, detail, and design of the handkerchief, Lawrence would immediately knew the symbolism behind such design. Or at least, mainly part the main symbol that bears the mark of the bear. "*A Gantrickan...?*" He kept this thought only to his mind, although there are various races present in Findara, the mark of the bear is usually preserved under the kingdom of the north. Henceforth, making the alchemist concluding that Magnus is a shapeshifter.

"**Farewell, Sir Captain. Tell your comrades about me should they need of any ingredients, potions, or poisons in their service.**" As Magnus went away, he went to grab and wear his mask once more. Waiting aimlessly for another customer to arrive. Beside him, a transparent figure of a ghostly apparition would slowly emerge from the side of his body. Dark whispers flowing through his mind. "**Good idea, let us rest in one of the slums. I highly doubt anyone there would care much to someone like me.**" 

Soon, the evening night came in to settle. Sounds of celebration and merriment could be heard in the local tavern near him. Drawn to it, Lawrence would peer through a small slit hole to watch everyone having a joyful time inside.

Although tempted, the man retaliated to watching further. He will not be a part of them, or any of them in that matter. The goods has been given earlier, the deed is done, it is time to rest. To prepare for another journey tomorrow.