Morning in Backlund carried a faint metallic smell, the kind that lingered above factory districts even when the wind shifted. Elias stepped out onto the stone pavement dressed plainly but not modestly. The cut of his coat was still tailored; the fabric still of quality. Decline did not require sloppiness.
He walked without escort.
That alone said enough about his current standing.
A fallen noble was not an uncommon sight in the capital. Titles could outlive influence, and influence could evaporate faster than inheritance. The estate remained in his name, as did the smaller farmhouse in the countryside, but ownership and liquidity were separate matters.
His available funds, if managed conservatively, would support him through Sequence 8 without difficulty.
Sequence 7 would be… uncomfortable.
Beyond that, unsustainable without new income.
Selling property was inefficient. It would solve a short-term problem while destroying long-term leverage. Rebuilding noble recognition was the preferable path. There were several viable approaches.
As he walked, his mind turned, thinking about the different approaches he could take in his journey as a "fallen noble". He chose this persona for no important reason at first rather than it seemed interesting, now however, he was counting the several steps and extra efforts this role demanded.
Strategic investments in emerging industries; steam transport, refined chemicals, perhaps even speculative railway expansion. All of them were promising ways to gain, or "regain" standing in the higher society. Backlund rewarded early capital when placed correctly, after all.
Alternatively, social reintegration.
Charitable sponsorships. Attendance at carefully selected gatherings. Quiet displays of competence rather than desperation. Aristocracy did not forgive weakness, but it tolerated quiet resilience.
Both routes required time and patience.
He wasn't the biggest fan of complicated political theaters or the general noble masses, but new experiences is what brought him here in the first place.
He shook his head lightly, driving away unnecessary thoughts "For now, gathering the ingredients and advancing came first." He said
He turned into a narrower street where the buildings leaned closer together and the signage grew less decorative. A pub stood midway down the lane, its windows fogged despite the early hour. The establishment catered to dockworkers, minor clerks, and men who preferred questions asked indirectly.
Elias entered.
The smell of ale and damp wood lingered in the air. Conversations lowered slightly as he crossed the threshold; out of assessment rather than recognition. His attire marked him as out of place, though not entirely vulnerable.
He approached the counter.
"A drink," he said evenly.
The bartender poured without comment. Thick forearms. Calculating eyes.
He didn't question the unspecified order, probably used to it.
Elias held the cup for a second without drinking, he turned it on the counter with his finger before speaking again, his tone casual.
"I've been told certain goods circulate in this district. Items not listed in ordinary catalogs."
The bartender's expression did not change.
"Depends what sort of goods."
"Unusual ones." he answered simlpy
Silence stretched between them. Elias placed several coins on the counter; not ostentatiously, but enough to suggest sincerity.
The bartender glanced at the coins, then at Elias.
"There's a market," he said at last. "Underground. Mostly common materials. Nothing too delicate."
"And gatherings?"
A pause.
"Unofficial ones have restricted access, they tend to allow invitation-only."
Elias slid the full cup to the side and stood up slowly "how about you introduce an old friend"
"For the right price," the bartender continued "I might be persuaded to introduce you. Half now. Half when you're inside."
Elias did not hesitate. He paid half of what the transaction demand.
"Sunday," the man said. "Seven in the evening. Come alone."
Elias inclined his head slightly.
For now, the underground market would suffice.
The entrance was concealed behind a storage cellar two streets over. A narrow staircase descended beneath the city, the air growing cooler and thicker with each step. Gas lamps mounted along the walls cast uneven light across rough brick.
The market itself was not large, but it was organized. Wooden stalls lined the perimeter. Some vendors displayed herbs and mineral fragments openly. Others kept their goods in locked cases, only producing them upon inquiry.
There were no obvious Beyonder displays.
But that was to be expected.
Elias moved without haste, observing rather than announcing intent. The clientele consisted mostly of low-sequence Beyonders or intermediaries purchasing on behalf of others. He sensed minor fluctuations of spirituality.
He didn't expect much from today's visit, but he was still pleasantly surprised, as he was more fortunate than he had thought.
After a brief negotiation with a thin man selling alchemical components, Elias successfully acquired a clear sapphire of adequate purity. Not exceptional, but sufficient for a supplementary ingredient.
From another stall, he purchased ten grams of finely ground verbena powder, sealed in waxed parchment. The scent was faintly bitter even through the wrapping.
Two supplementary ingredients secured, two more to go.
The main ingredients required more discretion.
He was surprised to find one displayed in this place, it was sealed within a reinforced wooden case; it was dark, compact, faintly warm to the touch even through glass.
A Core of a Candle Devourer.
Or so he thought.
After furthur examination he found out it was a beyounder item and not the main ingrediant he had hoped for, and it didn't help that he didn't know how it looked.
'Looking for ingrediants in places like these with no way of confirmation is just asking to get scammed, I'll need to wait for the gathering' He thought.
And the price of that thing was not insignificant either, it would have been a great loss this early in the game.
After some more time moving around looking for anything of use, he wrapped the two materials bought carefully and exited the underground passage without lingering.
Outside, the city noise resumed its steady rhythm.
Two ingredients acquired.
One gathering scheduled.
Finances reduced but still manageable.
Elias adjusted his gloves and began the walk back toward the quieter districts.
Step by step.
No spectacle.
Advancement, like influence, was best accumulated without drawing unnecessary eyes.