Chapter Text
A part of Omeluum felt nearly guilty for approaching Grazilaxx in search of a place to live, a place to work. Like there was something wrong with leaning on their shared experiences as illithids, some unfair advantage it was seeking out. Which was, it reminded itself yet again, ridiculous. It faced a steep disadvantage everywhere else. The few landlords it had been brave enough to approach had regretfully informed it they had no place they could rent it.
Which was rather unusual, as it had not approached any of them without first ascertaining that they had some space that would be adequate for its intentions.
It released a buzzing sigh, trying to expel its frustration along with the air. It couldn't really be surprised that people were leery of having any close association with an illithid. Which made it all the more grateful that Grazilaxx had invested its money in some property and was perfectly willing to rent to Omeluum, so long as it could afford said rent.
That, at least, was not terribly onerous; Grazilaxx's reputation as a recluse made it more difficult for it to rent its properties out, or so it had explained when Omeluum had expressed its surprise at the monthly amount it sought for the store and the living space above it. At least it was fair, asking the same as it expected from the other half of the building. Omeluum had paid for three months up front. It had a home and a chance to run its business for at least that long. After that...it would depend on how its custom went.
By the time it finished its business with Grazilaxx and emerged from its office over the apothecary the sun had breached the horizon. It raised a hand to shield its eyes from the glare and drifted down to street level. As it passed the apothecary it glanced in the window. Open space greeted its gaze, with an attractive scattering of tables and racks bearing all manner of remedies and herbs. Green and white paint proclaimed it to be "The Natural Touch."
It paused a moment, glancing over what it could see of the displays and hanging bundles of herbs. Whoever ran it certainly seemed to know their medicine, or had a supplier who did. It recognized a few medicinal plants, mushrooms mostly, from the Underdark. Perhaps (if the proprietor was the sort not to panic at the mere sight of an illithid) it could speak with them on the possibility of finding substances that would aid it in its attempts to forestall its hunger for brains.
Filing the thought away, it continued on to the door of the space that was to be its teahouse. It was as dusty as it had looked the night before, the sun's light highlighting sparkling webs strung over the glass. The awning, once a cheery white and yellow affair, was drab with grime. But for that, it would be beautiful...
Setting the bundle of its personal possessions down, it waved a hand. A rag floated out, borne up by its telekinesis. It raised its other hand, and its canteen splashed water over the cloth, then dribbled it liberally over the awning. With slow, careful gestures it drew the cloth over the awning, scrubbing away the grime until it nearly shone in the morning's growing light. It nodded to itself, satisfied. It was really a lovely awning, especially now that it had been cleaned. Something in its cheery colors spoke to its soul.
Gathering its possessions up once more, holding the filthy rag in a careful telekinetic grip, it turned the key Grazilaxx had entrusted to it in the lock and entered the dingy shop. Locking the door once more behind it, it pondered where to begin. Perhaps...with the counter. It would be wise to determine what alterations, if any, should be made to the shop before it opened its doors. Grazilaxx had made mention of an agent it used sometimes to interface with humanoids. Maybe Omeluum could do the same, if it turned out the shop needed extensive renovations or alterations.
Mind buzzing warm with a flurry of possibilities, it began to survey the space available to it.
It was certainly a lot of work. But after leaving its colony, after living alone, it was accustomed to work. Things that thralls would have done at its behest had long ago become commonplace tasks, and while it had less experience with some of the work that needed to be done, at the same time it relished the new experiences, the learning.
And it found, more and more, that there was a pleasure to be derived from work. Specifically, from the sort of work that showed a visible progression, that led to a specific desired outcome. It had decided that it wanted to utilize specific memories it had received from its host to provide tea to the people of Baldur's Gate, and every morning as it finished up and made ready for bed it could survey its progress and reap the rewards of its labors in the form of satisfaction and growing excitement.
And certain things, it was finding, were rewarding in themselves. Much as it found an almost meditative pleasure in preparing and pouring tea, it enjoyed running an oiled cloth over the gleaming countertop and floorboards of the teahouse. Seeing the dust wiped away, the way the wood grain gleamed, finding a pattern of work that would clean every part efficiently. It spoke to some deep part of Omeluum.
Some days it simply wandered the city, looking at other stores. Observing to itself what one did, or another, to display wares, to draw in customers. Taking mental notes for its own establishment. The apothecary next door proved to be an excellent source of inspiration. The proprietor had a knack for arranging things so that everything on offer was easily visible, and Omeluum did its best to adapt the strategy to its own wares.
Finally all was in readiness. Omeluum had thought long and hard over what to call its establishment, finally deciding on a simple, classic name: the Golden Sun Teahouse. It was little difficulty to paint the name on backward (so that it would read properly to passers-by on the street), and with that all was in readiness. It spent the time until the appointed hour checking and rechecking everything, channeling its nervousness into perfecting every detail. And then it was time.
It set out its "Open" sign and settled behind the bar. Customers trickled in by dribs and drabs. Not too many, but more than its fears had whispered. Some took one look at it and made their way back out. It was to be expected, it reminded itself. Not everyone would prove capable of remaining sanguine in the face of an illithid shopkeeper. And for each person turned away by the mere fact of what it was, another would be drawn in out of curiosity.
Or so it hoped, at least.
Most of the sales it made had an air of obligation or morbid curiosity about them. It tried not to take offense, answering the few questions posed to it with calm confidence and ignoring the nervous, fearful twitches. The custom began to peter out as light faded from the sky. As color streaked the evening clouds it made itself a carafe of herbal tea, sitting and watching in meditation as the orange faded to purple.
When the door opened once more it had to blink its way from a reverie. It glanced over the newest customer and its brows rose in surprise and interest. A hobgoblin, here? They were not plentiful in the city, so far from most goblinoid tribes. And what could bring one to its establishment?
The hobgoblin barely seemed to notice Omeluum, drawn to the display it had set up in the center of the shop. He worked his way around the circular table, making appreciative growls and murmurs to himself as he went. Something in Omeluum warmed to see another appreciate the effort it had put into the display. Finally the hobgoblin approached with a teapot held delicately in his strong clawed hands.
It knew the precise moment he spotted it. The hobgoblin paused, his steps faltering for a moment. Omeluum braced itself for another cold sluice of fear or hatred. Nothing of the sort assaulted it. Only surprise, warming to interest as the hobgoblin approached the counter and gently set down his chosen teapot.
"Good evening."
The hobgoblin's voice was low, a bit gravelly, but his Common was flawless, precisely pronounced. Omeluum found interest of its own sparking. This was clearly no ordinary hobgoblin. It inclined its head, keeping the motion slow. It had no desire to spook any of its customers, and that went doubly for those who did not seem to fear it.
"Good evening," it replied. "I hope you have been able to find all you sought."
"I was hoping you might be able to recommend me some tea, actually. I have never had anything beyond the commonly available sort."
"I would be more than happy to help. Do you prefer sweet, savory, or bitter notes? And when would you be drinking such a tea? In the morning to awaken more fully, in the afternoons to push through the day, or in the evenings to calm and settle yourself?"
The hobgoblin gave a thoughtful rumble. "Somewhere on the bitter side of sweet, I think. And I'd accept recommendations for morning and evening."
Omeluum nodded, thinking through the teas it had at hand. Catching itself about to reach out with a tendril to the rack, it used its hand instead, keeping its tendrils limp before it. It lined up six teas along the edge of the counter, three brews calibrated to stimulate the mind and body and three herbal blends popular for their calming effects.
"This is a black tea with smoky notes, redolent of oak and dark cherry." It went down the line, describing each tea in turn. The hobgoblin listened with genuine interest, and it found itself warming to him despite its intentions to keep a careful distance from its customers. This one just...seemed different, somehow.
He hemmed and hawed over the teas for a minute, finally selecting one from each batch. "These two, I think. But I'll remember the others. Most likely I'll be back once these run low to give them a try, as well."
"Of course. And you may purchase any of these by the cup, if you wish to enjoy them here. Though I cannot recommend you try these" it gestured to the morning blends "this late in the evening, unless you intend to stay up late."
Omeluum replaced the extra teas, making a mental note to itself which ones they were. It wanted to be able to produce them again when this hobgoblin returned. It tallied up the purchases and accepted the hobgoblin's coin, making the appropriate change.
"Thank you. Your custom means much to me."
"Of course!" came the enthusiastic response, accompanied by a broad, sharp-toothed grin. For all that, it didn't seem threatening in the least to Omeluum.
It carefully wrapped the teapot and placed everything in a bag. The hobgoblin picked it up with almost reverent care and paused before leaving.
"By the by, I'm the one that runs the apothecary next door, 'The Natural Touch.' Your neighbor, in a manner of speaking." He shot Omeluum a quick grin. "If you ever care to visit, even just to chat, you're always welcome. My name's Blurg."
"I am called Omeluum. You are most kind, Blurg. I will have to find time to visit. Tomorrow, perhaps."
Blurg bobbed his head and turned, striding out of the shop. Omeluum watched after him for a moment, then took a contemplative drink of its tea. What a pleasant exchange that had been. It lifted its spirits, gave it hope that it would find kindred souls in this city. Smiling to itself, it settled onto a stool to wait for the next customer.