The door swings open and a strange threesome enter the apothecary. One the shopkeepers recognise - the winged white fox animal belonging to the guy who ran Barret's Coffee House someplace down the street. The other two are strangers, although they had been seen near the Coffeehouse several times during the past week.
The woman has an alert, wary posture. Fair-skinned and possessing pointed, upswept ears, she looks every bit like one of elvenkin. Her long red hair, almost wine-coloured, is gathered in a high fall, spreading like a reddish waterfall across the hood of her grey-green cloak. The woman wears light armour over a green leather tunic and dark grey breeches, and bears a sword and a bow, and no doubt carries at least half a dozen of other weapons on her person.
Beside her stands a creature that in many manners resembles a wolf - only it is more slender, with longer legs, a fuller tail and a finer muzzle, giving its lupish appearance the slight likeness of a saluki hound. Most noticeable of all is its colouring - the canine's full coat is a collage of contrasting colours, patches of fiery red, black, grey-blue, white, and sandy yellow. The wolf's eyes are a startling, icy blue, with circles of gold just outside the pupils.
Daina, the white fox, trots into the middle of the room and looks back at her companions. Liallan eyes the apothecary and walks past Amos to address the shopkeepers.
"I need half a dozen restoratives and the same number of vitalitees," says Liallan.
A vitalitee was a tea-like liquid that was known for its refreshening and mind-clearing qualities and was commonly used to deal with fatigue when resting was out of question. For the woman to request healing potions and vitalitees could only mean she was going on a quest of some sort.
"Additionally, do you have anything that would come useful when facing dark magics, demons and the like?"
Liallan studies the shelves behind Morgan and Voron, and, hopelessly loosing herself in the chaos whose pattern was only known to the shopkeepers, waits. Noticing the wolf was suspiciously sniffing at the huge Saaur, Liallan pats the canine on the back of the neck and murmurs, "Easy, Motlepaw."
Looking at Amos, she measures him up, from the glass eye to the parrot on his shoulder to the toes of his boots, and greets him.
"Are you still after the ones responsible for the damage done to your ship?" she asks, remembering with just a hint of a smile the scene she had watched while following Daina.