Finding the herbalist's shop was simple, one only had to walk down the main road, hang a right at the corner where the roads intersected by the stables and there it was. For anyone but Ethan it would have been a simple walk and yet he'd somehow managed to turn it into quite the ordeal. Aside from going completely in the wrong direction initially he had somehow managed to double them back the way they had come, and only with Amuné's chastising did they finally get on the right path. Wandering aimlessly aside Warren was abuzz with activity as shops began to open and people went about their rounds, aggravating Ethan's hangover thoroughly. By the time they made it into the haven that was the shop ambient noise had been severely reduced and the lighting dimmer, it was a very welcome change.
Of course just because they had found the herbalist's didn't mean they were going to be out of there any time soon. The owner of the shop, an elderly woman by the name of Mae, was determined to fetch every single item that they wished to purchase on her own. Perfectly fine given it was her store and yet the fact she shuffled about at the speed of molasses made Ethan desperately wish to help. Politely offering a handful of times he was shot down each and every attempt, and he hadn't the heart to assert himself and get in her way. His hopes spiked briefly when a younger woman, presumably her daughter, came in with a basket of leaves and stems only to leave promptly after, abandoning them to the mercy of Mae's slow shuffle.
"Uh... Ma'am? Do you need some help getting that?" Ethan asked, watching timidly as Mae climbed up a ladder to fetch some herbs from a high shelf.
"No dearie, I'm quite capable of getting it myself, thank you though," Mae answered with a sweet smile, reaching the top rung and reached for a wooden box. Even as high as she was she barely could reach it, her fingertips just brushing the underside of the container as she attempted to grab hold of it. Unable to get a secure grasp she rose up on her toes to try and reach further, gasping as the ladder wobbled beneath her and she began to fall backwards.
Ethan moved swiftly across the way to catch Mae in time, easily doing so with how small her stature was. Relieved she was unharmed from the fall he let out a sigh and smiled at her, glancing up then when he heard the clatter of wood above. The box she had been attempting to grab had been moved a fair bit and had tipped out of its spot, the Magi hadn't time to react as it landed on his head with an audible "thwack" before spilling on the ground at his feet. Promptly setting down Mae he squatted, his hands shooting up and covering his head as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Ow, ow ow ow ow..."
"Oh you poor thing! Oh let me see, I think I have something for that," Mae began, turning to go back up the ladder. Behind her Ethan paled a bit and frowned, promptly grabbing the woman and easing her down with an apologetic smile. It seemed like he wasn't having a repeat of that again.
"I'm fine, please... Can we get what we came for?" Ethan asked, still nursing the slight bump on his head.
"Of course sweetie, of course. I don't want to keep you children long," Mae answered with a wave of her hand, shuffling over to the box and collecting its contents. With the container in hand she headed back to the counter but not before stopping with Amuné, who she was nearly eye level with. "See these? If you break the stems of these leaves you get aloe, it's excellent for treating burns and soothing abrasions. You can find them everywhere in the wild, but the younger the plant the better."
On the other side of town things were proceeding just as smoothly: or they would be if the blacksmith weren't so difficult. The man had no issue selling them ores or the fact that a woman was claiming to be a blacksmith, he was fine with all of that. Realizing she was a Dimuran however he was keen on seeing what she might be able to do with a hammer and refused to complete the sale until Nymira had crafted something. He didn't care what that might be, it could be simple as a utensil or a blade, anything that she wished. Despite numerous protests on Nymira's behalf the man wouldn't budge on his stance and like it or not she needed the ore, meaning she would have to play his little games.
Forging was easy enough, easier still if she was able to use her magic. Yet with the blacksmith present as well as his two apprentices, not to mention the small crowd that had gathered, magic wasn't an option. Worse still was while Nymira was familiar with forges she had never used one such as this, having to ask the man numerous times what some of the tools were used for. After nearly half an hour of dawdling she finally got to work, using a bit of iron he had already been heating to repair a kettle. With hammer in hand she took the molten material to the anvil and pounded away, each strike powerful and yet delicate, shaping the material to her will. How foolish she must look garbed in one of his aprons and his gloves, both of which were far too large for her smaller frame. It beat being singed by embers with each strike she supposed.
The item didn't have to be finished or even terribly pleasing to the eye, just proof that Nymira would use the ores capably. Yet no self respecting smith would ever half-heartedly take on a project, even if it was a simple one such as this. As her face glistened with perspiration and her lungs burned from looming over the heat the Dimuran continued working, and almost an hour had passed since she had initially begun her work. Doubtless her companions were bored to tears by now yet it hardly concerned her, she had come to fetch ores to work with not keep them entertained. Besides her work was nearly complete, the metal shaped as she wished and the material now beginning to cool. Quench it in oil, let it sit and the item should be good to go.
"There's your proof, smith, now let me have my ore," Nymira said as she slipped off the heavy apron, wiping her brow with her arm tiredly.
The smith, a large man with an ember-singed grey beard loomed over Nymira, inspecting her work curiously. With arched eyebrows he reached down and lifted the piece in one meaty hand, holding it for a moment to inspect before turning to his apprentices and the crowd. "The lass tells the truth, she knows what she's doing!" he declared, presenting a dagger's blade, jagged teeth laced along the blade and a simple yet elegant design pressed into both sides of the blade. Just by holding it he could tell it was decorative in nature, the weight of the metal would snap in combat, yet it was a testament to her skill; crafting a weapon was easy, even his apprentices could do that, but to craft a work of art like this took experience and dedication. Displaying the piece to the crowd there were some jeers for the work, and a few men even exchanged bits of coin among one another, apparently having taken bets.
"Gregory, Hammond, go and get the lass the ores we promised! Load up a cart for them to take!" the blacksmith shouted, waving the two boys off before smiling as he handed the dagger back to Nymira, "I'll admit, I doubted you miss. Always been keen on seeing what your folk could craft, been too many years since I last had the pleasure of working with one of you. Perhaps come back sometime if you're passing through, I feel like there's a lot these boys could learn from you."
"I'm flattered. If I find myself in Warren again I'll be sure to stop by," Nymira replied, bowing politely with a hand over her chest. Looking past the smith to Cecil and Geoffrey she circled over to them, stopping at the former and showing the blade to him. "This is what I do, not what Norman does. I'll do what I can as promised but just so we're perfectly clear. And you'll have your arrowheads as well," she added with a glance to Geoffrey. Later she'd be able to use her magic and craft far quicker than she had just now, they would have whatever they needed before the day was done.