Cy/Storm/OPEN
It was a strange place to be, to be sure. But where the fighters went, so too did the item-sellers.
The moment the calls went out, Cy had hurriedly gained permission from Cormac, negotiated the bulk discounts with him, packed up the nearest collection of supplies, then essentially hitchhiked out to the field with the nearest fighter rushing out of the city. The girl was loaded up with what looked like a hiking backpack, its silhouette towering above her head and straps neatly securing it to her waist. When she moved, the tower wobbled precariously from side-to-side, and she had to walk carefully to maintain her centre of gravity without the entire affair dragging her backwards like an up-ended turtle.
She'd constructed a mobile base a safe distance from the mouth of the cave and its emerging dead. Cy would occasionally pause to discuss a sale with another passing fighter, exchanging Potions for gil and swift status buffs. After a furtive look around to be sure she was safe -- the others were doing a good job of emptying the clearing, it seemed -- and despite the rancid smell of burning flesh in the air, the synergist then started primly unwrapping a sandwich.