Lines of Gold, hidden in Grey Skies: The Alchemist

"Come hither! Come hither! Fresh cure-alls for each and every paying customer! Ailments and poisonings will trouble you no more!"
The alchemist, robed in orange-brown and gold-trimmed attire fit more for a king than someone like them, stood on a barrel of wood, preaching their miracle-work.
Around him was a crowd of awed and eager people, most poor, few well-standing, even fewer truly wealthy.
"Warts? Begone! Fevers? Vanquished! Aching wounds and battle-scars? Good as new!" He advertised, gesturing in wild and extravagant fashions before his crowd. The gold already rattling in the wooden bucket he had placed on the ground.

Midst his egotistical revelry though, the crowd began to grow quiet with confusion. "Was that thunder I heard? It sounded..Odd.", "What is that? A bird? No bird is born with four wings, surely?", "My goodness, 'tis a witch! No-wait, a dragon! No-wait, it's a..Oh heavens I have no clue..", "Hey! My arm didn't grow back! What in the blasted hells was the point of the asking price then?!"

With his "admirers" no longer devoting their attention to him, the alchemist followed the others' eyes to the sky.

And promptly saw an arrow-shape of white dart right down towards him.

The crowd scattered just in time, the figure kicking up dust as they terminated their speed mere feet from the ground, landing as softly as a feline.
The alchemist ended up stumbling backwards off of his preaching-barrel, his haul of gold spilling onto the wet ground.

"W-What in the blazes-" He quickly spoke, growing silent as the alien, sleek figure stepped over to him. He would've been furious over the ruination of his robes, were he not silenced by intimidation at the moment.
She quickly reached down, and pulled him up by the collar of the shirt underneath the robes, the alchemist's masked face brought to an eye-level with the opaque, dark-purple visor of the lorridian's helmet.

"You got something I need." She said, "Where's the gunk you're selling?"

Shakily, he pointed to the tipped over barrel. Kolymbra let go, allowing him to flop back onto the ground like a fish out of water.
Prying open its lid, she found the barrel full of an assortment of vials and potions, filled with colorful liquid.
She picked one up, examining it closely..
Then her ears visibly drooped, her shoulders slouching in baffled disappointment.
"You're selling them colored water? Are you taking the p-" She stopped herself, a frustrated sigh as she tossed the potion aside, then began walking off.

"Thank you for the trip down memory lane, I suppose." She added, taking off and leaving the con-artist to his crowd of, suspiciously, suddenly very displeased customers.