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Post by zero on Nov 12, 2017 20:44:29 GMT -5
Malen smiled, through it came out more like a smirk. This was going better than she could have hoped. All she had to do was to get this man a little tipsy and then try to get some information out of him. She waved for him to start walking before she started. "Well, there is roasted meat, meat stew, and usually some kind of bread and cheese." She spoke as she walked to the food tents. She left out the part about the meat being from an unknown source. It would be interesting to see what would happen if he got the meat. The crowd easily parted for the duo, intimidated by both the armed dwarf and tall man. They made it to the tents easily. "Two drinks and..." She trailed off for his input.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 12, 2017 20:51:27 GMT -5
“Any time,” Aleithea said, smiling as she swung her legs over Sarayu. She gave the dragon a rub on his forehead, promising him a honeycomb treat later. “Have you been to the Full Moon Festival before?” She asked Bjorn as they made their way into the chaotic scene of brightly colored tents and rusting shacks. She took in a deep breath, feeling a sense of home as she breathed in the heavy incense and intoxicating aromas of potions and elixirs. She took off her cloak, the closeness of other people and smoke creating a heavy and humid heat. Underneath she had a strapless leather corset over a white high-low skirt and her raggedy pair of boots. They were coming close to the witch Cyra who supplied her with herbs and potions.
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Post by zero on Nov 12, 2017 21:04:09 GMT -5
"Umm..." It took a minute or two for Bjorn's mind to catch up now that they had entered the festival. He had forgotten how sharp the spices were and how many people came. His mind was blank as he remained ensnared by the lights and bodies. A movement from Alethiea drew his attention away. He blinked when he saw what she was wearing. His mind threatened to draw a blank again. Luckily, he managed to grasp onto some sanity by remembering the elf was part of the guild and someone he would see again. "Yes. I have been here before. It hasn't changed much." He looked around again to find they had walked into the quieter section. No one was laughing or chugging down mulled drinks. This was the place for deals to be made. Tents at the edge of the festival were quieter and containing more valuables. He and his friends would always wander in, slightly tipsy, to made bad deals with the venders. He still had an old, ugly hat he bought from the trader's head last Luna festival. "What are you looking for?" He asked.
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Post by Fiddle on Nov 12, 2017 21:45:40 GMT -5
Joseph thought her smile was a little off putting. Was she suspicious of him after all? He tried brushed it off and followed her to the tents, but couldn't shake the feeling she wanted to bamboozle him. He was used to people being relatively intimated by him and receiving unusual looks, so it didn't really bother him. "Roasted meat and bread would be fine," he mumbled, doing a bit of a half wave. Joseph didn't really think about where the meat was coming from. He figured that the meat would be normal, considering this was a festival with a multitude people.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 13, 2017 7:41:41 GMT -5
Aleithea wandered through the trading part of the festival, her attention often caught by a trinket- a miniature carousel with real Pygmy horses on it, a jar of variously colored eye-balls that you could use as a way to spy on others, a variety of porcelain flowers that each gave you a bit of good health or beauty. She took out her pouch and dropped three gold coins on the merchant’s table, selecting a dainty snowdrop flower that granted luck. With a smile and a courteous thank you, the elf carefully wrapped the flower in a scarf she had in her satchel and dropped the flower in her bag. “Tonight I’m here for some potions from there,” she nodded towards the bright yellow caravan. “If you want, you can come with me. Cyra just loves some young men,” she gave Bjorn a playful smile. Cyra was quite a cougar and was always trying to approach younger males. Aleithea made her way up the creaky caravan steps, opening the latched door and peeking her head in. “Cyra! I’m here for some elixirs.” ( zero)
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Post by zero on Nov 14, 2017 15:48:37 GMT -5
Malen set down the money when Joseph placed his order. She picked up the mulled drinks and moved to the edge of another table. She sat down on one side with a sigh. She assumed the man will pick up his food when it came. It would be long, but Malen mulled over poisoning the man's drink. It wasn't her style through. Even if she hated to admit it. She wouldn't want to poison a someone, human or not, that might be innocent. Also, she much rather strike someone down. It felt more satisfying. She took a long sip as she waited. (Sorry. Kinda lame reply. )
---
Bjorn was keeping an eye on the children, not the trinkets as they walked through the markets. Each one held a smile he knew too well. They surveyed the market with keen eyes and nimble fingers. When Bjorn made eye contact, he made sure for them be the ones looking away. He knew what made a mark. All he had to do was be on the watch and not spend too much. he swung his head around once Thea spoke. He awkwardly smiled when Crya's preferences were mentioned. It wouldn't be his first time dealing with women, or men, like this. There were enough at his parent's old parties. He wasn't very found of them, but h didn't want to abandon Thea either. He waited at the bottom of the steps and tried to appear relaxed.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2017 16:17:31 GMT -5
Aleithea stepped into the caravan, a heady aroma of hushflower incense floating outside into the night air. Cyra, a dark-skinned witch with a turban piled high on her head and jangly earrings that fell to her shoulders, embraced her. “Aleithea! Finally you come!” She exclaimed, a thick South Routan accent weaving its way through her words. The witch peeled around her, spotting Bjorn. Her eyes looked him up and down, her lip curling into a smile as she appraised him. “And you brought a boy! Not a bad looking one, either..” she hummed. Aleithea gave Bjorn a sympathetic look from behind Cyra, giving him a helpless shrug as Cyra pulled him into the caravan. Her piteous look turned mischievous. “Cyra, why don’t you take care of Bjorn while I looked around?” Aleithea suggested, gesturing to the bevy of various herbs, spices, and simmering potions clustered erratically on wooden shelves.
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Post by zero on Nov 15, 2017 17:13:44 GMT -5
Bjorn glanced up before scanning the area again. He then did a double take. They hadn't met before, but had defiantly seen her. The outfit and thick accents were unmistakable. So was the look she gave him. Suddenly, he felt uncomfortable which was only changed into slight panic when he was pulled into the caravan. He looked around the bottles and spices and tried not to appear uncomfortable. As much as he tried, he couldn't. The scent of magic was thick in the air. He huffed, then smiled. It was fake, of course, but he would try. "What do you do, exactly?" He asked.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2017 18:19:19 GMT -5
Cyra's smile turned predatory as she circled him, her eerily pale eyes flashing. "Oh just potions, elixirs, spells. Just the usual witch things," she smiled, her teeth glinting in the flickering candlelight. The witch skirted around the fighter, fetching a tea kettle from the tiny kitchenette tucked in the back caravan corner. She poured the tea into two mismatched cups perched on a set of spell books. "Care for tea, pouchet?" Cyra offered to Bjorn, using a Routan term of endearment. Aleithea was not oblivious at all to Bjorn and Cyra's somewhat unsettling exchange. Quickly dropping the ground bloodfreesia poultice she was examining, she took in Bjorn's tight smile and panicked eyes with alarm. Somehow, Bjorn knew Cyra and it wasn't a good thing. The elf had always liked the witch even though she seemed a bit off her rocker, and she was a bit surprised to see that her companion so shaken by her. Well, most witched aren't what they seem. She reflected, thinking back to her days as an outsider with Papa as she made her way to where Bjorn was. She put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly, and smiled tightly at the witch. "You have a good stock, but nothing really sticks out," Thea explained, mentally kicking herself for saying such things. She really needed that bloodfreesia poultice. But if Bjorn was freaked out, she had to get out of there. "I'll come back next month," the elf promised, not meaning it at all. She pulled Bjorn out of the caravan and into the twinkling lights of the festival trade area. "What was wrong back there?" the elf demanded, a bit irritated for losing that ground poultice.
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Post by zero on Nov 15, 2017 19:04:54 GMT -5
Bjorn tried to keep his cool, he really did. He pinched his hands were it really hurt and forced himself to smile. Yet, his skin still itched when she looked at him. He tried not to flinch as she poured whatever the liquid was. Cursed. Unnatural. Evil. The words spat by the humans could not leave his ears. To him, they were truth. Stories never favored these people. There were more stories about sold souls and bad bargains than he could count. Bjorn could count very high. He was about to deny the drink when he was dragged away, again. What he didn't realize was this dragging was done by a slightly annoyed elf. Bjorn ran his hand through his hair while silently cursing his transparent expressions. He thought he could control his face by now. Now he had to repair the damage, like always. He took a deep breath, the fresh air giving a needed ounce clarity. "Look. I'm sorry if I offended your friend." He knew he had to be careful with his next words. He had almost forgotten Alithea was a magic user as well. Telling her what he honest thought about magic and those who practice the art would be...bad. "You can go back. I'll just stay out here." He tried classic avoidance.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2017 20:26:36 GMT -5
Aleithea looked concernedly at him, all her previous annoyance gone. When she was satisfied that he seemed to be okay, she tersely nodded and made her way up the caravan's steps once again. "You don't have to wait for me if you don't want to," she reminded Bjorn, looking at him with clear amber eyes. "I'll be right out, anyway." A few minutes later, she descended the steps twenty coins lighter with her coveted poultice. Cyra did like to charge high prices. But it was worth it for such high-caliber potions and herbs. She was delighted to see Bjorn had stayed, and she pulled him along with her to the fun part of the festival. Fairies, centaurs, and thousands of other magical and mythical folk danced and indulged themselves, letting loose and often getting carried away. Aleithea suspected she would do the same thing after a strong cup of mead and a less than innocent dance with a handsome lad or pretty lass. "I'm going dancing," she told the fighter beside her resolutely, taking the open hand of a tipsy guard. She whirled around and around, caught up in the traditional festival folk song and dance.
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Post by nightrain44 on Nov 15, 2017 22:59:06 GMT -5
(hi i had a question. are the easterns supposed to look like 'western dragon' like with 4 legs & wings or are they smthg totally different?)
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Post by Fiddle on Nov 16, 2017 8:13:10 GMT -5
(It's fine.)
Joseph just stood there, waiting for the food to be prepared. He wasn't exactly sure what to do, but after a short while of waiting he just sat down, places a journal down on the table. It was a new journal, bound into a leather cover. He ignored his drink for the moment, flipping through the clean pages of the journal that would quite possibly be filled within the next few weeks. For a moment, he had even forgotten Malen was there. So when he looked up, he felt a little shocked. He finally took a sip of the drink. "What is this exactly?" he asked, trying his best not to sound cold and harsh.
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Post by zero on Nov 16, 2017 15:04:34 GMT -5
Night; I got mixed up for some reason. They are suppose to be western dragons. Sorry about that. )
Bjorn spend his time watching the crowds shift and mold around him. His eyes searched for familiar faces. Nothing. He let out a tiny breath just as Thea came out again. He turned around with a slight smile. "Sounds good." he said. Joining in on the festivities did sound relaxing. Sure, he might meet some of his friends. However, it was late enough they would be hammered. At least that was what he would tell himself. He didn't want Thea to worry again. He watched Thea leave before going for a mulled mead. He did manage to get pulled into a small group once he had gotten his drink. For some reason, he had ordered a second one. Well, he knew the answer for that one, even if he didn't want to admit the answer quite yet. While he smiled and laughed, one eye was always on the look out for the elf with the red hair and silver dress.
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Malen watched the man and his journal. It wasn't very uncommon for such a thing. Many traveling men or women would have a record of their journeys. Such records paid a pretty penny if sold. However, by the way the man looked at the pages, She knew this was not for others to see. She swiftly took her eyes off of the journal to look at the man once he spoke. "Just two strangers getting to know each other." She said wit a shrug. He gestured to a nearby group who was currently listening to one member tell a story. "Those people could have started out as strangers. Now, they will be best friends until the morning sun. Of course, I don't expect such results from us, but we were both alone and festivals are meant to be spent alone." She explained as if this was the simple fact. "So, where are you from?"
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Post by Fiddle on Nov 17, 2017 18:19:49 GMT -5
Joseph just shrugged. "I actually prefer to be alone. In fact, you get quite used to it after a while." He said rather flatly. "I haven't had a comrade, friend, or whatever in a long time." But that was they way he liked it. If someone were to find out about his experiments and were to spread them, Joseph's head would be up for the chopping block. "I lived a village farther north, though I haven't been there in a long time." He muttered, not wanting to give away where he was really from. Not that he remembered much of it anyway. It was become increasingly difficult to talk like a normal, innocent man. On top of that, he was resisting the urge to conduct his 'experiments' on those around him.
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Post by zero on Nov 21, 2017 18:53:56 GMT -5
Malen hummed. She wasn't so surprised at the alone part of the man's life. He didn't exactly seem like the sociable type. He did sound worn down, like a man who had seen too much for his age. Not tired, Malen decided, eying the man once again. She may not have been in the presence of the man for too long, but he did not seem like the sort to be without a purpose. She looked into the amber liquid of her mug. she wished for charisma at that moment. For words to magically roll off her tongue and charm the male across from her. However, she was never that type. The life of a farmer in the countryside would never foster a socially charming person. "Did something happen?" She asked, trying to tiptoe around the subject without being completely insensitive.
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Post by Fiddle on Nov 26, 2017 18:27:12 GMT -5
Sorry I've been busy))
Joseph went quiet, taking a sip of his drink. "That is quite the tale," he said rather coldly, "one that has haunted me for years and years to come." He set the drink down, unsure how he should explain what happened all those years ago. There was no way he'd tell her why he had left his home. If he told her, it was either her death of his head on the chopping block for necromancy. "My papa died when I was young. 'Ma couldn't take it. So I left and haven't been back ever since." Joseph took yet another sip of his drink, staring at the dwarf coldly. In a way, he envied her. She seemed to have a decent life going for her. "You seem to be doing rather well for yourself," he said, a small hint of harshness in his voice.
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