Somewhat to White Lotus’s surprise, it was not the bizarre artifices of this erra, or the associated sounds, or the thronging crowds pausing to stare, that drove her off of the street before she could find a “Pawn Shop”.<br/>It was the smell.<br/>As herbalist, alchemist, and seductress she knew well the intimacy of scents, and the sensory overload of this erra was worse than she could have ever imagined.  Worse than music at war was hot tar combating perfume thrusting spears at fresh foods crossing swords with more burning naphta than she believed possible—and these horseless carriages were supposed to be drasticly cleaner burning than those of 50 years ago!<br/>So it was that, when she was about to go mad, the scent of this resteraunt reached her and seduced her as surely as an aphrodisiac potion.<br/>*   *   *<br/>A soft chime indicated the opening of the door and a tiny but shapely woman drifted in; then paused to inhale and sigh blissfully.  Was she in costume?  If those robes were in fact the brocade silk duponi and cloth of gold they seemed to be, they must be worth a small fortune.<br/>For a moment, her face fell.  Then she sighed and glided up to the counter.  When the asked for her order, she asked, “I beg your pardon, I am new in this country and have yet to trade for the local currency.  I know barter is not customary, but could I possibly exchange this tea set for a meal and a few day’s currency?”<br/>She produced from her pouch the tea set she’d meant to take to the pawn shop.  The case was Chinese redwood inlaid with gold, the china cups inlaid with gold leaf and ivory.  The materials were, of course, valuable—some being no longer legal to procure.  What White Orchid did not realize about it’s value was the scarcity of handicrafts in this period.<br/>