Alchemical goods

Kylar keeps an apothecary’s shop in Loshev, and the party stood in it on a day it should have been shut. It was Awalan’s day, a rest-day when the shops close, and Yullen Gemsmith pulled strings to get the apothecary and a tailor open so the three of them could be kitted out before they raced downriver after a slave shipment and his own son. Kylar took them through a dozen preparations across an afternoon and gave his own name only at the end of it.

The salve is the one that mattered. Blood block is a pinkish stuff that seals a wound and holds it closed. Two gold the vial, which he admitted was five silver under what it cost him. It has since stabilized Koa’s bitten leg, a crossbow-shot herder, and a captive moments from bleeding out; Aldo spent the last of the party’s on himself, with an ooze being cut out of him. Kylar’s warning came with the sale: blood block taken close to Aldo’s performance enhancers can clot somewhere it has no business clotting, and he fretted over another customer who had lately bought both.

The rest was for the road. Pungent cloaks that hide a wearer’s scent from tracking hounds and make him easier to see; glandular eye-drops that put a rage on a man, five gold apiece; a dozen cheap hangover cures for a silver, which Aldo took to at once; and courtier and dilettante finery in a locked cedar trunk, the dilettante cut sewn deep enough to carry small things nobody is meant to find.