Bitters' Co-Op

On the Zae'ka Steppes, where the wind is alive, most buildings' doors and shutters are left open- unless there's a storm, and all doors are wide enough for multiple people to pass through at once. This is good, because Korso, and other folk, are always milling about the doors to the rounded, hive-shaped building like a colony of bees. And you don't move with the confidence and familiarity of many of the others here.

Shoulders bump, people pause for a moment with a friendly "Oop!", sometimes followed by a trailing "Sorry!" as they walk away, still half-facing one another as they do. You follow the tide of other people, looking around, overwhelmed at the building inside; festooned with strings of suspended banners gaily fluttering above as you approach glass-front cabinets with rows of goods and materials. You find yourself inhaling as a small eddy of rich, nutty aromas from an opened bakery cabinet floats past you-- you've found yourself to the end of a line, and a Korso with an chickling on their back busily swaps stock in one shelf, then the next.

"First time here?" another Korso pipes up cheerfully. "You'll want to talk to Uncle Bitters, he's... right over there." You follow the direction of a flourished hoof, leading to the older Korso with the baby in the back sling, who turns at the gesture, almost as if he had eyes on the back of his head.

"That'd be me," he says, stepping forward. "Has anyone matched you with a guide yet? You get your floche key yet?" He huffs a little as you shake your head 'No.' , then looks at younger Korso beside you who was sweeping. "Rue, be a dear and get this one a key and something hearty. They're early enough to help with setup, so get them oriented, and oh-- right.

"Welcome to my shop-- everyone who helps another out is family here."