Alula twiddled her thumbs anxiously once Arastoph finally took her coin purse. Before the man could acknowledge her money, however, Vis came over. Even with the half-elf attempting to conceal his voice, Alula could hear him. Blame it on her being rather perceptive, or because she is used to hearing whispers in her ears. But Vis had threatened the merchant, much to Alula's dismay. She resisted the urge to glare at the half-elf as he returned over to his tree. 

In reality the last thing anyone would want to do it threaten a merchant. 

She tried to keep her expression neutral when the man counted out her money, and said it was more expensive then that. It was obvious that Alula was in distress, however. Hazy eyes widened and her hands began to twitch again. She thought quickly about everything she owned. She needed to keep her staff, it was her only way of moving as well as casting. She bent over, slightly awkwardly because of her crippled leg, and took off her sandals. They had tiny pictures of moons and stars stitched into the canvas. They looked well worn, but maybe they would sweeten the deal.   

Alula then patted down her sides. She could feel her knife through her robes. She reached into her robes and pulled the knife off of her belt. It was a beautiful dagger, iridescent paint shining in the sun, but she never found herself using it in combat. She knew the knife was important to her, or at least that's what the voices told her, but her hat was more important.  

She held the sandals and the dagger out to the merchant, trying to keep the desperation out of her eyes. She got the horrible feeling that this might not be enough either. But that was everything she owned. Alula glanced around at her companions. Most of them were broke already.