Open Chronicles The Greatest Show on Earth

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Jonathan Burr

Jonathan Burr

The Fireworks Master
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Jonathan woke up like any other day. Elbion wasn’t a bad place to set up a performance area really. The people there were in need of entertainment just like anyone else. Jonathan was there and eager to provide.

He was fortunate; he had a good wagon. It was a garishly painted nightmare of green, orange, pink and blue. Jonathan loved it; it was his small and comfortable home with a tiny potbelly stove, a decent bed consuming the back wall, a small table, and decent storage space in the cabinets above. The tent was really just for appearances and advertising. Sometimes people couldn’t read and what said “performance” better than a lovely blue and green tent that announced his presence with loud color?

Jonathan got up from his bed, yawning and running his fingers through his red hair. He pawed around for a cigarette. He lit it, got up, and rugged on a pair of trousers. He never wore shoes and it had to be a formal occasion for him to be wearing a shirt. He had to practice today. It was his day off. He had no perfromances planned today, no big gestures of transmutation or working with Hob.

So he was taking his time wandering from the wagon into the tent. Hob was already there. The fae snorted at him, flicking one long rabbit ear. They extended down past his waist, and were the faes primary way of signaling his emotions. For instance, annoyance. The past few weeks had been hard on them both. Tips and sales had been down, and Jon was starting to have to count coins to keep them fed. Even worse, cattle and sheep were starting to disappear; a sure sign that Hob was dissatisfied.

“What’s got you pissy?” Jon asked, stretching himself and picking up a rock from the flattened soil. He coiled his fingers around it, smoothing his fingertips over the hard grey surface. It took a few seconds of concentration, but splits appeared in the surface of the rock. Petals curled away, and the stone bloomed like any other flower. Jon pulled his magic away, freezing the stone flower into blooming eternity.

‘We’ve been hungry for weeks. You shouldn’t be taking a day off. You don’t have enough sulfur to make fire flowers. The ones you did make are dwindling. We need to work!’ Hob snarled. His lips split and curled up, showing his black gums and ferocious teeth.
 
This wasn't Rysa's first time in Elbion. It was the merchant city and she needed to trade her quarterly supply of meat and spices from the inn. The ship arrived from Alliria early in the morning which meant Rysa had time, a lot of time, to walk about the city. She brought her coin purse with her, ready to spend last month's savings on some new materials for her jewelry or to simply buy a beer.

Rysa was due to meet her merchant friend in the afternoon, but it hadn't even reached noon when she finished her third ale. Sighing, she left the pub by the port to look around some more. She spent coin after coin on shiny gems and new skirts and even bought her apprentice, Silvan, a new pair of boots. She recalled how tattered his had become.

Struggling to carry the boxes of goods she had indulged on, Rysa stopped after walking for a while to set them down and rest her arms. As she did, she noticed a strange looking wagon painted with a plethora of different colors. There was a tent set up next to it and Rysa could swear she hadn't seen it before. Allowing her curiosity to take over, she picked up her boxes and head to the tent.

When she reached the tent, she pushed the flap open with her foot and ducked under, expecting a performance to be taking place. Instead she was greeted with the sight of a barefoot man and a hideous creature unlike any she'd even seen before. The creature was humongous and looked as if a rabbit had given birth to a four-armed giant.

Rysa squaked at the image of the creature and dropped the boxes she was carrying.
 
Elbion was not his favorite place in the world, but it wasn't entirely unkind to them. Still, Izrin released a long sigh as he brought their small wagon to a stop in front of a mercantile. The cool seasons were upon them, and though the temperatures were mildly cold and wet in this part of the world, they needed supplies all the same. Sirih was growing like a rampant weed, and he intended to keep them well fed.

Pulling the brake and tying up the reins, Izrin opened the blue wagon door and peered inside. The child was sitting on the bed, kicking their dangling feet and chattering softly to themself as they paraded a pair of toys in front of them.

<Come, Sirih. Izrin has something to say,> he said in their native language, his tail flicking.

Sirih looked up suddenly, their garnet eyes bright as they put down the toys and padded across the wagon to their father. Their home was small, but it had all they needed. After all, it was just the two of them; they didn't require much. Izrin knelt down in front of the child and straightened their hair and dress as he spoke.

<Your father is going to gather some supplies. The merchant will put things on the wagon, but Sirih should stay put and behave.> His tail worked to put emphasis on the hisses, growls, and warbles, the gold piercings on the spade jangling softly.

Sirih nodded. <Sirih will obey their father.>

He replied with a smile and a kiss to the child's forehead. Rising, he shut the door and stepped down the irons to visit the mercantile. Casting a final glance at the yellow and blue wagon in time to see a blue face peer out the little window at him, he waved his tail and went in to take care of business.


Sirih was not generally so disobedient. Usually, they listened to their father and played with their toys while they awaited his return. But today, they were bored and when they looked outside, they saw a group of children playing. They wanted to play, too. If they didn't go far, surely their father wouldn't be cross with them.

And that was how Sirih found themself wandering the Elbion streets. They might have been more afraid, but their father had taught them that komodo should rarely be afraid of new things. So they looked around with wide, crimson eyes. Their tail whipped about in constant exclamation and awe.

Then they saw the wagon and tent. More komodi? They hadn't seen many other komodi. How lucky that they should see them in Elbion so close to where they and their father were! They jogged toward the colorful wagon and climbed the wheels to peer into the window. There was nobody inside. So they crept around to the tent and began to lift the back of the tent up in time to hear a woman's shriek.

Sirih jumped and dropped the tent wall, scrambling back before they could see what had happened at the main tent entrance. But their curiosity got the better of them, and they bravely crouched once moor and hoisted the canvas wall, peering beneath it to see what was going on inside.

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
Jonathan looked up when he heard the shriek. He frowned and stood up, sighing heavily and glancing at Hob. “Hey. Performances resume tomorrow.” He hadn’t spotted the woman but he’d heard the shriek and the boxes dropping. He rolled his eyes and plunked down the stone on the ground, going toward the shriek. He walked over and drew back the tent flap, leaning down and starting to gather up the boxes. “Was that really necessary?” He muttered to her, packing up her things and offering it to her. “Hob is my friend and partner. I’d really appreciate you not making it out like I’m hiding a monster here.”

Hob flicked his ears up. He didn’t give a damn about Jon making headway with the locals. He smelled something far more interesting. He and Jon were excellent together, blending Hobs particular talents with the fire flowers and Jon’s skills in Transmutation to make something most city folk never saw. He did need space to be a fae, however...and children liked rabbits. His ears added at least four feet onto his height when they were pricked up like that. Hobs lips slowly lowered down out of the snarl he’d held, and he walked toward the smell.

It was reptilian. He lowered down and used one ear to lift up the tent. He was face to face with a young blue child. The child had horns, and smelled a lot like the large lizards he’d eaten in the desert. He grinned wide. “Hello.” He purred in a deep baritone.
 
Sirih leaned their face close to the ground, tickling their cheek, and looked tentatively under the canvas. They saw some boxes and a human man, and the strange feet of something closer to them. What was it? It certainly wasn't a komodo. Were the komodi nearby?

The tent began to lift, taking their hand with them, and Sirih looked up at it in surprise. A giant rabbit face peered out at them and they gasped, their crimson eyes widening in awe and surprise. Letting go of the tent, they scrambled back a few paces on their hands and knees. They never once took their eyes off of the creature, and when they stopped, they continued to watch it curiously for several moments.

<Sirih is sorry,> they said automatically in their native language before remembering they were supposed to speak the common language with warmbloods.

"Sirih is sorry," they repeated in a heavily accented common.

// Jonathan Burr //
 
Hob smirked at the clicks and growls the kid uttered at him. Languages were funny things but he’d never heard anything but common. He glanced back at Jon. His master was distracted enough, time to have a little fun of his own. He slid outside of the tent when the boy stumbled back and squatted in front of him, ears up and forward to give Sintih his full attention.

Hob moved even when he was sitting still. His muscles writhed around his skeleton; a bicep would slither off and become part of his back, replaced by another coming up from between his ribs or down his neck. His fur was the same way, tiny wormy strands squirming this way and that. “What are you apologizing for?” Hob asked. “You were only admiring. I’m the only pooka I know.”

He straightened up a bit and flicked his ears. “Only fair you should stare.”
 
Rysa took a moment to catch her breath and replied, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to become so startled."

She took her boxes from the stranger's hands, "I've just never seen a creature quite like your friend."

Rysa opened the top box to make sure none of the gems had cracked and tsked when she saw a few had indeed broken. She then watched as the rabbit-like creature walked toward the edge of the tent. He lifted it up and Rysa looked on in awe as a blue child appeared from behind the tent. She held back another gasp and slowly approached the blue creature.

If Rysa remembered correctly, the child was a komodo. One had come into her inn a few years back and there was no way she would forget the unique creature. The elf quickly got over her curiosity toward Hob and placed her boxes gently on the ground before reaching the child's side.

"Are you lost?' she asked quickly, bending down to reach the child's height.
 
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Sirih watched in awe as the rabbit slipped out of the tent. Only, it wasn't a rabbit. It was massive, and its whole body slithered and writhed like it was made of eels instead of flesh and bone. Their eyes strayed from the creature's face to look over it's strange, ever-changing features. Its voice was deep and rich when it spoke to them.

"A pooka?!" they gasped. Their curiosity instantly turned to alarm. A cobalt hand quickly drew a pentagran across their body and the other clutched at a pendant they were wearing beneath their dress. Father had told Sirih stories about the fae and made them observe the practices that kept such creatures at bay. This pooka would surely steal them away to the faerie realm for disobeying father!

They had scooted back from the creature, preparing to jump up and run, when the woman appeared. Rather than running away, Sirih ran to her and threw their arms around her, trembling.

"Sirih wants their father!" they wailed, looking up at the woman with a wobbling lip before looking at the pooka. "Sirih will be good."

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
Rysa stumbled back a bit when the child leaped into her arms. She stood up, cradling Sirih, forgetting that she was technically intruding a stranger's property. The elf ran her slender fingers through the child's hair, then moving to rub circles over their back. Her strangely maternal instincts gave Hob a reassuring look before she crossed the room to the man who helped gather her boxes.

She stopped in front of him, "If your performances resume tomorrow, I assume you don't have one today."

Rysa turned so she was addressing Hob as well, "Will you two help me find the child's father?"

She turned back toward her boxes, intending to calm to child down by showing them some of the gems she just bought. Rysa opened the top of the box and took out an orange gem, handing it to the child.

"Don't worry, Sirih," she started, "We'll find your father."
 
Jonathan shook his head at the woman and smirked. Why was everyone a busybody around his tent today? It couldn’t be helped, he supposed. His performances were supposed to attract attention. However, scaring children wasn’t ideal. He blinked and noticed his friend disappearing under the tent flap, then the loud cry of a child.

Hob cackled, withdrawing his lips and laughing. The fear in this child was almost as good as the wonder they spread! He grinned, leaning in close to Sinih with a light in his large yellow eyes. “And what do you have to be afraid of? Been naughty?” He chuckled.

“For the gods sake Hob.” Jon chided, looking at the terrified child in the elf’s arms. The rabbit shrugged his shoulders innocently and vanished. The only remnants of him were tiny white worm threads of fur that burrowed into the ground. Jon ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the child. He was a young Komodo...something really not seen. They were a rare species. Honestly, he’d ached to get one working for him for years. They had a certain sexual mystique one couldn’t replicate.

Jon smiled wryly at the kid. “Don’t mind Hob. He likes scaring people.”
 
Sirih gasped and turned their face into the elf's shoulder when the pooka spoke to them, clinging to them tighter and squeezing their eyes shut while shaking softly. They were reluctant to let go of the elf when she attempted to set them down, and even then when they did they immediately looked toward the pooka. It was gone, and they didn't know if that was better or worse, and momentarily clung to her in horror. But after a bit of coaxing they let go and resumed clutching the pendant.

Their eyes shimmered with barely-restrained tears and their lip wobbled as the elf opened a box and showed them a gemstone. Sirih sniffed and took it, turning it over but still glancing toward where the pooka should have been. When the man addressed them, they looked up at him with shimmering eyes.

"Sirih was bad and did not listen to their father," they confessed. "This one deserves to be taken by faeries." They knew that children who wandered in the wilderness were stolen by faeries. Apparently, cities were no different.

Turning hopeful eyes toward the elf, they held the orange gem to their chest. "You can help this one find their father?" they asked. "Sirih did not wander far. Izrin will be looking for them."

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
"Do not worry, little one. You will not be taken by faeries," Rysa chuckled, "We are here to protect you."

She tucked the lid back on the box, but allowed Sirih to continue fiddling with the gem she had given them. Rysa stood up once more and held out her hand for the child to take, hoping it would bring them comfort. She hoped the boxes would be safe in the tent and then remembered she had to meet with her comrade soon. The last time they agreed to trade, she had been a day late and her friend had not been happy. She nearly lost his business. The elf cursed herself for getting so off task, but pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Getting Sirih to their father took first priority.

"Do you remember where you last saw your father?" Rysa asked the child, "Can you lead us to him?"

She ruffled Sirih's hair and looked up Hob and the performer, hoping they would know the city well enough to find the child's father quickly.
 
“Hob doesn’t steal anyone. He works for me.” Jon corrected. “You wandered off. It happens. Kids do that...you can’t be blamed just for being a kid.” He tried to smile encouragingly at the kid, but he was a little disarmed. He didn’t do well with kids. He was a man born with a bottle in one hand and a man (or woman) in the other. He didn’t spend a lot of time around kids. He rubbed his neck, sighing. “I don’t know the city that well, but if you guys have traveled far your dad will have gone for supplies first.”

He glanced at the elf. “I’d wager the general store or the local traders would be the first stop. Dry goods, water kegs, that sort.” He suggested, and headed out of the tent. Luckily he had positioned himself between traders. It was a high traffic area and people would stop between their shopping to watch a few minutes of a show and maybe throw a few coins.

He stood out in the market, tapping the kid on the shoulder. “Sinih was it? See your dad?” He asked. “Or something familiar?”
 
Sirih didn't understand the chuckle (they thought this was a grave, serious matter), but the man explained that Hob -- the pooka -- wouldn't steal them and they nodded, sniffing back the last of their distress and looking back at the orange gem. It shimmered in sharp contrast to their cobalt hands, and the distraction helped make them feel better. They looked up when queried about thier father.

"This one's father told them to stay in the wagon, but they wanted to play with the children." They looked down. "The children did not want to play with them."

They refused to rub the little bruise on their shoulder from where they had pushed Sirih.

The man mentioned the general store and traders, and they perked up. "Izrin said he was going to see the merchant. Sirih's father was getting supplies."


Izrin was doing his best not to panic, but he was panicking. He ran a slim hand through his dark hair and took a deep breath, fighting the tears of frustration that burned in his eyes. When he had returned to the wagon, Sirih hadn't been there. Sirih had never left their home before. Had they disobeyed him and gone out, or had something more serious happened. But he didn't have time to consider what had happened. His life had one purpose, and it was Sirih; not finding him wasn't an option.

The child couldn't have gone far, and a komodi chid stuck out like a sore thumb in most places. They were blue, after all. But that shimmering head of indigo hair was nowhere to be seen -- not in the market, not in any general stores, not hanging about the stalls with other children.

Izrin took another calming breath and set off down a different street. It was a ways away from the mercantile he'd been visiting, but if the child wasn't nearby, they must have gone further. If they went anywhere, an ominous dark thought whispered. The threat of other komodi was always there, and he shuddered. No. Izrin refused to believe the worst. His eyes scanned desperately for any sign of his child.

What he saw, however, stopped him in his tracks. A brightly colored wagon and tent. There were more komodi. A cold dread settled in his gut, and he struggled to breathe for a moment. He heard a bright, clear voice coming from within and his heart leaped in his chest.

"Sirih!" he called, maneuvering through the few people between himself and the tent. A hand was raising the flap as he approached, and he yanked the other side open and there -- the most beautiful sight he'd seen since the day they'd been born. "Sirih," he breathed, disregarding everyone else in the tent momentarily as he dropped to his knee and held his arms open for them.

<Father!> They dropped something orange and ran to him, throwing their arms around his neck. <Sirih was disobedient! Sirih will never do it again!> they wailed, their little tail curling between their legs and around their ankle submissively.

Izrin shook his head and squeezed them tightly and shook his head. Whatever scolding he'd intended to give this child melted away, and instead he only thumped their slim shoulder with the spade of his tail. They'd learned their lesson, and they would have to have a stern talking-to in the wagon later, but for now...

He looked up at last, casting his suspicious ruby eyes at the elven woman before him, then the human male to the side. Prying his child's arms from around his neck, he stood and drew them to him with a protective hand on their shoulder.

"This one... I must thank you for finding my child," he said in common. His accent was heavy, a sign that it was not his first (or even his second or third) language. He placed his free hand over his heart, inclining himself forward while giving his tail a flourish in front of him. His tone was kind, but his eyes were wary as he straightened, glancing around for anyone else who might be in the tent. He didn't see any komodi, but that didn't mean they weren't there. He wanted to be finished with this business and on his way before any others did appear.

"How can I thank you both for your kindness?"

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
Thank the gods they didn’t have to play that game for long. Jon could feel Hob delighting in his awkwardness. Jon’s first instinct was to get this kid a smoke and a tug of gin. That’s what his father would have done. Thank the gods daddy found them first, otherwise he might have followed through with that plan.

Jon took one look at the Komodo walking toward him and his eyes stuck there. The way the sun backlit the man made his azure scales shimmer. His face was beyond beautiful; male but with that touch of female that tempered it. The Komodo clasped his son, and Jon knew faintly in the back of his mind he should stop staring. He’d seen beauties before. He clawed down his hair and cleared his throat. What did he want? Well, what he wanted he couldn’t say in front of the kid.

“Well eh...my name is Jonathan Burr, I own the place. Kid wandered in here staring at my partner.” Jon smirked, walking over to Izrin. “And baby, I think dinner would settle the score just fine.” He summoned up his most charming grin. “What do you say?”
 
Rysa rolled her eyes at the way Jonathan was clearly staring into the Komodo's skull. When the man took a step forward and asked the Komodo for dinner, Rysa placed her hand on Jonathan's shoulder, moving him to the side.

"You don't owe us a thing," she said, "Your child was lost and we are just glad you found them."

The elf took her turn introducing herself, "I'm Rysa."

She held out her hand and looked up, scanning the Komodo. He was indeed gorgeous with his flashy scales glowing ruby eyes. However, Rysa was not as easily swayed by good looks as the man standing next to her. She cast him a glance, almost amazed at how forward he was with Sirih's father.
 
Straightening, he surveyed the man -- Jonathan, as he was called. He was the owner of this tent, not a komodo. A small wash of relief ran through him, but he didn't let his guard down just yet. But Izrin would have been lying to say he'd expected the man to come on so hard. The komodi blinked in surprise, but the smile that flashed across his face wasn't entirely for show.

"You flatter me," he said simply, holding those blue eyes for only a moment before looking down at Sirih who looked from Jonathan to their father. He was a rather handsome man. Izrin's heart skipped a beat. He'd always had a thing for red-heads, he thought, and his smile turned wry as he dared glance back up at the man.

Fortunately, he didn't have to agree or disagree before the elf swept in and gave him the time he needed to think it over. He took the offered hand with a bright grin, though one with significantly less charm.

"Please, call me Izrin," he told the elf. "I cannot thank the two of you enough. I stopped for supplies and thought Sirih was old enough to be responsible for themselves in the cart, but I was mistaken." His happy tone turned serious as he looked down at his child, who was now holding the end of their tail and looking down. Izrin sighed.

"If I may be so bold," he continued suddenly, looking up at the pair. "You said this is your tent? Are you entertainers?"

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
Well shit, the elf was trying to chaperone him, was she? That wasn't going to work. Jon let her shake the hand that was offered, but the question was all his own. He laughed when Izrin used the plural. "I'm the entertainer here." he swept his arms wide. "And my speciality? Turning the mundane into the beautiful. Twisting it with the horrific. These back country yokels won't know what the hell hit them, a tornado of magic or a dazzling array of crystals. Explosions of sparks and color! And all of it for a silver coin."

He grinned wide, producing a pair of small balls from his pocket. They looked like small, dark compressed lumps of charcoal, and had the faint scent of sulfur. Jon made a quick, small turn of his wrist. The balls clicked together in his palm, caught, and sparked. Before they could blow, Jonathan threw them into the air. The first fizzled, then burst with a thunderous crackle and a shower of harmless blue sparks. The second produced green and pink, twirling itself in fans of exquisite lighted color. What remained was only smoke, and a scent much like sulfur and metal.

Jon was grinning like a schoolboy. He loved making fire flowers, as he called them. They were a simple compound; metal oxidized by his powers of transmutation, and mixed with a little sulfur. Rapid heat made the oxidized metals burst into showers of color, and the rest was history for the showman. He offered his hand to Izrin. "So why are you in town? Local artists ran out of beautiful scenery, and needed a touch of the exotic beauties?"
 
Rysa scoffed, "So you do magic tricks?"

She sighed and waved her hand, enjoying the tension between Jonathan and herself. She could definitely play with this a little while longer. Rysa walked over to the corner of the tent where she left her boxes and gathered them up before returning to the other two men.

"I'm so sorry, but I can't stay for your little demonstration," she started, "I've got to get going."

The elf really had no intention of leaving quite yet. She was actually quite interested in what Jonathan had up his sleeve and the fireworks he had set off were a gorgeous array of colors. He'd peaked Rysa's interest, if he hadn't done that already with his furry companion and the hidden Komodo child behind his wall.

"It was really nice to meet you all."

Readjusting the boxes in her arms, she gave Jonathan a challenging look and slightly bowed her head to Izrin. She turned around, slowly sauntering to the exit of the tent, hoping her trading partner could wait a few moments longer. She really was intrigued to see what Jonathan would do next.
 
So it wasn't the two of them, just the human. There had been only a single wagon outside, so perhaps it was truly just this one man. A brightly colored wagon wasn't exclusively komodi, but their nomadic lifestyle and particular heritage certainly inclined them to such owning such. Entertainment, alongside grunt work, were easy professions to get a foot into the door for them, for a number of reasons. But he relaxed a bit, nonetheless.

A single brow rose as Jonathan transformed from flirt to showman. He admittedly took a startled step back at the fire flower display, blinking from the bright flash of light and his heart skipping a few beats. Sirih clung to his coat, though their eyes were wide with awe when he looked down at them. Komodi couldn't do magic, and Izrin sheltered them from people of other races -- a meager attempt to shield the child from the harsher aspects of being komodi for as long as he feasibly could. This was one of the first true displays of magic the youth had ever seen, and their awestruck expression certainly did the moment its due justice.

The moment he'd finished his display, however, Jonathan resumed the charm. He held out his hand, and Izrin returned the gesture with a broad smile.

"Hardly," he laughed. "We are simple travelers, only just arrived. Sirih was too young to recall Elbion when last we visited, and I promised them we would see a few sights proper while we were here this time," he remarked, looking down at Sirih to place an affectionate hand atop their head.

But the elf had gathered her things and announced regretfully that she could not stay, and Sirih gasped. They ducked out from under Izrin's hand, running to where he'd been standing before and picking up something orange.

"Rysa, you forgot this." They held out the gem they had been holding and had dropped in their haste to greet their father.

// Jonathan Burr // Oliver Rose //
 
Jon did love seeing the shock and wonder on people’s faces. Fire flowers were a damned rarity, and it took someone skilled in the more subtle magics to make them. Anyone without Jon’s gift for minerals could spend decades looking for the right oxides. It allowed him to make a business out of a curious talent, and he loved showing it off. However, the elf was a contact too good to pass up even if he did want Izrin in his wagon by mid-afternoon. She was a dealer in gemstones, something he specialized in. The least he could do was a favor for her.

“One moment. Sit tight.” Jon told Izrin, and hurried after Sirih. He leaned down, flicked the gem out of the child’s hands and up into his own. His fingers sought tiny cracks and imperfections in the gem, things that would lower value. Little spots of cloudiness, inclusions, cracks or chip marks from a miner’s pick. They slowly healed themselves under his fingers, and the gem he returned to her was as perfect and neatly formed as if the rocks themselves had decided to spit up the stone.

“I could use a contact like you.” He told her, offering her the gem. “And gem traders like yourself can usually use my services. Tell you what...I need sulfur. Lots of it. If you can find that, I’ll make every gem in your shipment as perfect as this one. Deal?”

Nothing like making a little headway in business. He shifted the soil in his feet around, digging his toes in. A small tendril of loose soil bubbled up, carrying a small array of pebbles with it. He selected a palm-sized chunk of granite, and enclosed it in his palm. “I think there’s something in there...” he muttered, and gave the rock a good rub with his thumb like he was brushing away dirt. Large flakes of granite crumbled away instead, and Jon came away with a pair of granite rabbits in his palm.

One he offered to the elf. “You’ll be able to find me with that. Hold it, and the rabbits ears will point to where I am.” He told her. He tossed the other to Sirih. “Replacement for the gem, kid.”
 
"Hmm," Rysa pretended to ponder, taking the orange gem in between her fingers. She glanced at it, twirling it around. She did break quite a few gems when she dropped the boxes a while earlier and having Jonathan as an acquaintance couldn't hurt. Rysa looked into his eyes, searching for ulterior motives, a habit she picked up from having amnesia. He looked genuine, so she decided to trust him.

"Alright. I'll do it," she said, "I live in Alliria and haven't had a particular use for sulfur, but it's possible that I could make some time to travel to The Spine to find some."

Rysa tipped the lid of the top box and carefully slid the orange gem under it, neatly setting in down on the cloth inside. She looked back at Jonathan again, eager to start something new. The elf didn't get out much other than coming to Elbion for trading purposes, but she supposed giving Silvan an opportunity to put his innkeeping skills to practice for a long amount of time would be good for him. It would also give Rysa a break from the drunken fights she'd break up every other afternoon.

"Well, I'm looking forward to working with you," she sighed, "and if you ever find yourself in Alliria, make sure to stop by the Elven Arrow. My door is always open."
 
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