Beyond Chaos – A DiceRPG

The heat of noonval bore upon the pair as they approached the large complex, the sandy gold walls covered in a sea of purples and pinks, the colourful clothes fluttering in the gentle heat, providing coloured shade below. The complex was easily tens of gahdun by tens of gahdun, perhaps larger, and as the pair made their way through, they spotted dozens of groups making their way around, each approaching the various small dome buildings, each of which with long chunks out the side horizontally as windows, like a visor, which allowed the air to slip through, cooling the various merchants showing off their wares.

The floral scents filled the air as the Priests made their way towards the inner section of the complex, where a guard held out a hand, eyeing up the pair. She wore all white, from the over her armour, her scarf covering her helmet, though was pinned to it to make sure it did not flutter in front of her face, while the rest of her loose clothing covered her breastplate, even hiding her boots. Her gloved fingers clasped around her spear tightly, the tip gleaming with danger.

“Mo,” the guard called, her dark eyes narrowing upon the half elf, who smiled like a tourist.

“Good morning,” Dunes greeted, flashing a charming smile. “I am here to procure uthur with my friend, and we have heavy pouches, and expensive taste.”

“There are a few esteemed visitors within at the moment,” the guard informed, with a particular sharp tone.

Dunes narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded his head, smiling politely. “We will procure some of the more affordable uthur outside, and return in a short while, at a more agreeable time.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Mo.”

Dunes bowed his head lightly, before stepping away, understanding he could have slipped some silver, but if there was someone that made the guard speak out to him, it was probably best for the half elf not to meet with them. “We will spend a few thousand silver here, and then we can head within for the more powerful fragrances. They sell pure and strong uthur within, but we can procure some strong uthur, outside. We should also buy many gentle and safe uthur, for they are cheaper, and though they do not last the entire day, they last long enough for the evening, and for certain outings.”

“How long do each last?”

“Pure, from sun up to sun up. Strong, from dawn until dusk, in dawnval. Gentle, a few hours. Safe, an hour.”

“Why do they call it safe?”

“Safe is made lightly, one drop of the essence, and eighty or ninety drops of a neutral oil, so it does not harm a child’s skin, or those with certain conditions. Pure is one drop of essence and two to five drops of oil.”

“Ah,” Adam replied, nodding his head as they approached a man, whose skin was clear and soft, his eyes a deep green, his white smile radiant, adorned in two different scarves which hid the loose clothing underneath, his turban hiding his dark hair. His beard was aflame with orange, his moustache darker than even black.

“Aryashukhur, Mo,” the man said, a wide smile upon his lips.

“Aryashukhur, ahm,” Dunes replied.

“I am so blessed this day?”

Dunes smiled, motioning with a hand, muttering a gentle prayer for the fellow. “Shukhur. I am here to buy many uthur today.”

“How can I take gold from a Mo?” The man reached into his home, to the various cabinets hidden away under the window, and after a moment, he brought out a small vial, tilting his head back to read the cloth tied around the head, a light purple, before shaking his head and finding another that was a similar purple. “Here, Mo. Gentle uthur, that of my family’s formula.”

“Shukhur, ahm,” Dunes replied, accepting the gift, popping open the wooden cap to reveal a small wooden cork within, the young Priest dabbing the uthur upon his wrists, rubbing them together before wiping them along the sides of his neck, and then did the same for Adam.

“Oh!” Adam said, smelling the gentle scent, floral and sweet, the kind that would attract bees. “Your family’s formula? No wonder you’re still in business, huh?”

“Shukhur, I am blessed,” the merchant confirmed. “I am Ghayth, and I do not sell uthur, but the heart of uthur. My family has sold uthur for two hundred years, so we are blessed, and we will sell uthur for two thousand more, so we are blessed.”

“Well, I’m here to buy a thousand years worth of uthur,” Adam joked, winking at the merchant. “How much do you have in stock?”

“I have many in stock, Brother, how can you worry of such?” The merchant grinned even wider. “How much does the handsome Brother wish to buy?”

“How much is, roughly, one vial of safe, one vial of gentle, and one vial of strong?”

“There are many sizes of vials. The smallest? Two silver, three silver, five silver. Bigger? Double the price. Biggest? Double again.”

“Alright,” Adam said, raising his brows, having expected to pay much more. “How many scents do you have?”

“Shukhur, I have some of the most famous scents,” the merchant admitted, reaching down to withdraw a small wooden box, opening it to reveal a sample of each of his scents, each bottled with different cloths, at least a dozen different vials. He dabbed the scent upon a small, half palm sized cloth, and held it up for them to smell.

“Mmm! Jasmine?” Adam asked, the fresh, sweet, and floral notes striking the back of his nostrils.

“I am one of three in the capital who can sell such scents,” the man admitted, allowing Dunes to smell it too.

“I can’t wear uthur named after a woman though,” Adam said, half joking.

“A woman’s name, or was it a flower’s name first?” Dunes joked in return.

“A woman’s name, surely.”

“Like Rose?”

“Hmm,” Adam hummed, thinking about his Manager’s words. “I suppose you’re right, though I am a little sad you didn’t catch the Shirley joke I made.”

“Shirley?”

“A woman’s name, surely. Then you’d said something like, you have a point, but don’t call me Shirley, you know?”

“No,” Dunes admitted.

Adam smiled sadly, but shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the sadness.

Dunes continued to smell the various scents, revealing each of them to the half elf, before asking for the common uthurs. The merchant motioned with his head in response, revealing a new box, each with grey cloths, each grey slightly different. Dunes picked up one, trying it on the cloth, allowing Adam to smell the scent. “This, it is the gentle smell of wood, is for a man’s wedding.”

“If I had known, I would have gotten it for you back then,” Adam said. “In fact, I’ll buy you one right now, and you can remarry your wife, and Aryashukhur, I can have another niece or nephew to spoil.”

“You speak dangerously,” Dunes replied, raising his brows, as the half elf laughed. “This uthur here, it is for when you go to a wedding and you are close with the groom or bride, and this one? This is for a wedding in which you are not close but invited. This is for a wedding in which you enter and request politeness.”

As Adam smelled each one, he realised they were less as powerful, even though they were each apparently similar levels of strength. “They each grow softer.”

“For those of the wedding, yes. You should not smell better than the groom, or you deserve to be beaten,” Dunes said, his voice lightly, though he exchanged a knowing look with the merchant. “This is for when a boy becomes a man. This one, when a girl becomes a woman.”

Adam smiled, wondering if he should buy-,

Ah, what was he thinking?

They wouldn’t grow up, those troublemakers.

“Can you guess what these two are for?” Dunes asked, offering the half elf a smell of a particular pair.

Adam sniffed them, and the gentle floral scent permeated through his nose. “No.”

“This is for when a son is born, this is for when a daughter is born,” Dunes said, tapping the sides of the vials towards the merchant, while Adam reached into his long cloak. “We will need to buy many of these.”

“What the Mo said,” Adam confirmed, placing down a gem worth fifty gold.

“Shukhur!” The merchant’s smile brightened, like gold under the Aswadian sun.

“This is for when you are yo go to a party,” Dunes continued, revealing another vial.

“How many perfumes does the average person own?” Adam asked, growing more exhausted checking out the perfume than he did when facing against Ashuk.

“Own? Not many. The grandparents, they own many, and they make sure the proper scents are worn.” Dunes continued to show off the various scents to the half elf, explaining each to him, including the cultural context between each, though eventually most of the uthur went from culturally important to personal preference.

“Woody, smokey, musky, citrus, floral, earthy, you really know your stuff, huh?” Adam said, raising his brows towards the young man.

“You know how to spoil children and kill Reavers, I know uthur,” Dunes joked, winking at the half elf. “I am a Priest. It should surprise you if I did not know these scents well, for they are used in many rituals. Uthur, incense, other scents and even paints, brushes, swords, you must utilise the correct items, otherwise you are disrespecting the Lady of War, and if you disrespect the Lady of War with Aldland to your west, Aswabayyad to the east, and the Confederacy beyond…”

“Yeah, fair,” Adam replied, nodding his head gently. “Ahm… Gate?”

“Ghayth,” the merchant replied. “Rain.”

“Oh!” Adam nodded his head. “Right, of course! Alright, well, we’re going to buy probably, what do you think, a hundred of each?”

“We will buy…” Dunes thought for a long moment. “We can buy the vials, and then the refills for the oils so we can refill them without coming here. The stronger scents last for years before they begin to lose their scent.”

“I’ll let you figure it out, we’ve got the gold to burn,” Adam said. “Except, I do need a scent for the greatest wife in the world, so if we can figure that out.”

“I am uncertain what could suit Amira,” Dunes replied.

“Dunes…”

Dunes raised his brows towards the half elf, his eyes stating he was eager to fight.

“Anyway, can we make our own scents?” Adam asked.

“You could, but it is expensive. We can make a scent that has not yet been created, but it is difficult.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t mind that, but maybe…”

“Amira’s Rose is the greatest scent,” Dunes said.

“Very expensive,” Ghayth said, motioning his head towards the inner section. “Only sold by the one sister, shukhur.”

“How expensive are we talking?” Adam asked.

“They only sell it by the largest vial size, and it is one hundred gold,” Dunes said, watching the half elf make a face, one which stated he hated nobles, but at the same time, he was considering it.

“Don’t give me that look,” Adam replied guiltily.

Dunes shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows towards Ghayth, who just smiled, even though he didn’t understand what the joke was. “It is difficult to escort him.”

“Is that why the Black Lion is watching over us?” the merchant asked.

“He’s not watching over you or I, ahm,” Dunes said, letting out a soft sigh.

“You make it sound like…” Adam began, only to quieten down. “I now understand why we didn’t go to the inner section immediately.”

Dunes smiled.

The shopping episode begins!