Legend of Ransera

Viverosa Market had proven to be immensely uncomfortable for the Animated. He had known there would be hundreds if not thousands of people present, especially given the sunny weather and the not excruciatingly hot temperatures, but he had thought there would've been a bit more decorum to the entire process. Instead, it felt much more like stepping into the middle of a beehive and being forced to jostle his way through whatever portions of it he wanted to reach. Thankfully, everyone else had also grown accustomed to this same routine of jostling - stepping - jostling - pausing and so it hadn't taken too long to slip into the routine.

Of course, he hadn't come to Viverosa to shop very much, and so each of his pauses was little more than cursory in nature. He would glance across the products on display, ascertain whether they were anything particularly special, and then cast his attention back towards his quarry. Looking at the shopkeepers directly in the eyes was a good way for them to shout praises about their merchandise and go into tirades about the importance of quality over quantity, and after the first couple of advertisements, Althalos had a desire to never hear another one in his life. They'd always feign such disappointment when he walked away even after their adverts, but he wasn't made of farthings and he really didn't have a use for 'an authentic Alfsos dagger' or 'the finest saddle this side of the world.'

The foreigners seemed to have roughly the same issues that he was having, being accosted by some of the peddlers for their refusal to purchase things. He questioned whether they kept returning to the same stalls over and over if they had no intention of purchasing anything, but he supposed that further observation would be enough to make their reasoning known to him. He had been watching for a few hours now, slipping off only once when they had turned about and nearly walked into him. Thankfully, whether they were aware of his presence or not, they seemed to be doing very little about it, which meant he was free to continue his quiet vigil.

The knights had gotten involved at one point, which had made his activities somewhat more difficult. It was evident that they were watching over the pair of travelers and their faithful hound, but that didn't mean they wouldn't notice him creeping around them as well. Of course, that didn't necessarily mean he was going to do anything malicious to them, but stalkers had a habit of being treated poorly when discovered, and he had been forced to walk in wider arcs about the pair until the enforcers had disbanded. That had meant altogether less learned in that short period, though he believed he had gotten enough for a cursory conversation.

It seemed that they were headed back towards the Inn where their journey had begun, and so, like an obedient bloodhound he stepped into line with them, following about fifteen feet behind them, glancing off to the sides at this and that as he walked. There was, of course, no reason to stare directly at the two and completely ruin any element of deniability in the process. He would wait until they had entered into the Inn, and then afterward he would simply need to enter behind them, and finally make his move.

Or -- perhaps he should take them now? Were there advantages to that? Maybe he could invite them for drinks, and loosen their tongues?

"Excuse me!" He exclaimed suddenly, the sound leaving his lips before he had finished with his analysis, time running against him. He hadn't used Common nearly as much as Kokalith while he was here, but it felt familiar nonetheless, like a language he'd always known. Noting the distance still between the two groups, he elected to close it more quickly, stepping with greater speed, but all of the lack of aggression that he could display in his scrawny figure.

"Are you going to the Silver Lion? I'm an outsider too, and I was hoping to get to talk with you." Perhaps that was a bit too formal, and a bit too revealing, but he had never been one for a lack of revelation -- in fact, he had never been one at all.

"If you'll humor me, I'll buy your meals and drinks for the evening?" He offered with a gentle rattle of farthings hidden away in his fine coat.

The very moment that the trio had spun around to face him, Althalos felt as though he had made a dire error. He hadn't even observed them long enough to know their names, and so how was he meant to gauge their personalities? What if they thought he was attempting to trick them and took his advances to be some form of assault? They might challenge him to a contest of some sort, perhaps something that would oust him as having lost his life several weeks prior. If his nervous system was as reflexive as his mind, he might've begun to twitch in anticipation for their answer, but instead, he simply stood still as a statue.

There was some discomfort in the presence of the hound which had accompanied the pair. It had disliked his presence, and yet, despite the hostility in it, he couldn't help but feel a draw to get closer. Did it know somehow what he was? It didn't matter, he supposed, because it couldn't speak to them in a common tongue they would understand and inform them of how close they were allowing themselves to get to him. He was no danger to them anyways, he thought, recognizing that he would never deign to chew upon a mortal. The hound though? His tongue flicked across his teeth behind the cover of his lips, imagining for a millisecond what it would taste like to snap into the dog's hide.

"Yes, I've been there a few times. They serve a Kalzasi meal on Raellas. It's pleasant." That part was a lie. He'd never actually tasted the meal, but he'd been in its presence a couple of times, and he knew it smelled tasty at least. The male of the two at least seemed pretty satisfied with the possibility of a free meal and drink. Perhaps he was confident in his ability to read the nature of others, or perhaps he simply thought that his own physicality was greater than that of the Siltori and didn't detect any real fear in him. Either way worked for Althalos.

Yet, there seemed to be a bit of contention between the two about accepting his offer. A foreign tongue was uttered, and Althalos found himself standing idly, waiting for them to finish with their conversation. Finally, the result of it was made known to him in a more familiar language, inquiring as to the purposes he had for the two... three. "Just to talk. You're travelers, and I have questions about the outside world. I've forgotten more than I ought to, and had hoped you'd recognize some things for me." He smiled towards them, enthusiasm for the chance at learning more about himself swelling to the surface.

He would accompany them towards the Inn if they accepted his reasons for wanting to speak, glancing every couple of minutes at the way the hound kept as far from him as possible, it's chest heaving with fear. That solidified to him that the dog knew his true nature, then. Perhaps there would be a way to tame it regardless so as to lessen suspicion, of course, that assumed he had to put up with the pair for more than one meal. "Where are you from? I don't recognize that language, but I know it's not Common or one of the local tongues."

She must've been in charge, he ascertained as she cut off her male companion in the midst of his storytelling. He seemed gregarious to say the least, though perhaps he was simply eager to talk about himself. Althalos wasn't sure whether he truly disliked that quality in people, because he didn't feel the need to speak about his own nature quite so much, and it was a good method to gather information about someone in the process of stoking their ego. He supposed so long as no one was hurt by the continued pride, then it was entirely a non-issue. The trader, it seemed, disagreed with his assessment.

He listened intently as they described the language they had been using to communicate between themselves, identifying it as 'Kyriac' the language of the 'Hytori'. He wasn't entirely familiar with whom the Hytori were as a people, but the further mention of Kalzasi seemed to indicate to him that they were the native population of that area. Althalos was uncertain if that was a correct assumption to make, but he was willing to operate off of it until someone bothered to correct him. After all, worst-case someone would realize that he hadn't traveled beyond the territory of Atinaw much, and that wasn't truly a taboo here, especially given the people's general attitudes to the more effeminate groups surrounding them.

The corpse had known that the pair were outsiders through his observations, but it was now revealed that one of them had served both as a trader and as a courier, meaning that they had made a profession out of their arbitrage and deliveries. That was spectacular news, and he couldn't help the grin that impressed itself across his face. She would know a great deal about the world around them, no doubt, and especially about the people from different areas and the various attitudes they held towards one another. A trader needed to know much about their consumers if they intended to make a sale, and she had clearly been successful enough to call it her primary work without shame.

There was further satisfying news at her sudden agreeableness, and her desire to stow the hound which continued to give away his true nature. He didn't bother making any excessive movements towards the beast for fear that its fright would overtake it and send it into an anxious attack, instead choosing to allow her to put it away without any real interaction with it. If she asked, he could always just say that he was afraid of dogs, and especially of that one given its large size.

The trader gave her name as Saej, and her companion gave his as Shasco -- apparently he was a bard which meant he likely knew a great deal about stories and mythologies. Eager to probe their minds for information, Althalos slid into the first free table that he could find, only a few feet away from the center of the establishment that usually served as his haunt; the center of the building was the perfect place to hear and see everyone on the lower floor, after all.

"Thank you. I was born with it." He replied with a curt nod and a polite half-smile to Shasco at the sudden compliment. He really had done very little to affect the mass, but he didn't want their informative conversation to be distracted with needless talk about cosmetics and methodology on hygiene. "Althalos Sil. There is supposed to be more to the name, I think, but --" He paused, raising a hand to catch the attention of the barmaid snooping through the aisles so that she could come and take their orders. For his part, he ordered nothing, simply handing over the requested farthings whenever his company concluded with their conversation.

"I woke up the other day with some severe memory loss. I'm afraid I don't remember very much at all. My companions were all found -- they were gone -- and I discovered my identity in a smudged journal lying around in our little caravan. Althalos Sil is all I know of my name." He took on a solemn silence, chewing at the side of his cheek as he considered how to proceed. "I didn't want to start out quite so drab and morbid, but I think it's important you know why I wanted to meet with you so badly."

He stirred from his melancholy, another polite smile cresting the somber look as curiosity again overtook morbidity. "Shasco, you said that you were part Hytori? What can you tell me about them?" He said, placing his gaze on the half-blood.

Having revealed his symptoms, he had expected a comment or two of sympathy towards his plight. Instead, Althalos found that the part-Hytori was far more intent on proving that he had a 'fresh start' and that he wouldn't need what he had lost. Perhaps there was some truth to be found in those statements because the pale elf wasn't really certain the had even really forgotten so much as never possessed. Was there really a difference as far as the Althalos was before was concerned? He was dead either fully or mentally, and every action and reaction taken now was performed by an alien mind that was not -- would not be his own.

Yet, people had lives like spiders had webs, and he was clearly an aristocrat of some type. It might be possible that he possessed a family who would be able to provide support for him, unwittingly giving shelter and assistance to a stranger wearing the guise of their kin. The opposite was also true, he considered, recognizing that even the nation in which he lived was dealing with various difficulties involving hostilities from other nations. If Atinaw's sovereignty could suffer such antagonism, then it was only fitting that an individual could face enemies, and they would be all the more dangerous if Althalos didn't know they would be coming for him.

Instead of a response, he gave only a crooked smirk and a shrug of his shoulder, not bothering to deign the idea of abandonment with a response. He did listen with rapturous attention, however, to whatever details could be given about the Hytori. They had served as progenitors for his own race, and that of any other elves, and apparently were easily distinguishable from his own Siltori brethren, because of the presence of their golden skin. That was a stark contrast to the silver of his own flesh, and he began to wonder if all elves were possessed of an inherent shimmer like that of metal -- golden elves and silver elves and perhaps some variant of copper or bronze to match.

"All elves must live long lives." He answered at the gentle interrogation from Shasco. "Not much to go off of, is it? It's something, though." He said, focusing on Saej as she readied her throat for speech. At her insinuation that the group was deceased, he gave a nod of confirmation. Her question was a valid one, and he took no offense or assumption out of it. He didn't think that he was responsible for the death of a dozen men given his obvious aptitude towards work done sitting down, and the general lack of apparent injury on him. "The knights, while valiant, do not make it a habit of raising the dead." He gave with an almost light-hearted tone, though again the somberness crept onto his features, particularly in the way his eyes glazed over. "I'm almost certain it was a wild beast or a pack of them. None of the caravan's things were taken, and I wasn't tied up when I awoke. The Knights are already well-aware of the presence of vicious creatures and beasts on the roadways."

He paused, turning his gaze on Saej as she suckled harshly at her drink, her own vision either obscured by the mug or else directed elsewhere. Did she think he would be offended by the suggestion? People were such curious things. "It's a good thought, but knowing what type of thing killed them won't remind me of who I am, and as Shasco put it --" He coaxed a finger into pointing at the part-Hytori, "--perhaps I don't want to know them all that well, knowing their fate as it is."

There was a brief pleasantry exchanged of thankfulness about his having provided a meal, but this too he seemed to almost ignore, giving only a hem of acceptance. It wasn't rudeness that had overtaken him, nor had his pride been stirred by the astute assumptions of his companions, but rather he felt nigh on the verge of new understanding, and he didn't want to be distracted from his target before he had stricken it true. "I'm grateful for that assistance. Anything you can tell me would be beneficial, I'm sure," He said.

"When I awoke, there was something here upon my finger that helped me learn of my identity. The journal provided some insights to my name, but it was a business document first and foremost, more about trade-goods and profits than the people carrying them." Bringing his left-hand forward, he raised the digits towards the ceiling, showcasing the large and shattered signet upon his ring finger. Delicately, so as not to provoke further damage, he stole it off of the phalange, settling it center-point upon the table for both Saej and Shasco to observe it. "A nobleman's effect, I'm certain. Do you recognize it at all? I think I must've rolled down a hillock in the attack and bashed it against a tree or a stone."

To Be Continued...

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[indent=30]Experience: 8 points

[indent=30]Knowledge:
[indent=30]Animal Handling; Keeping a cold weather dog out of the hot sun
[indent=30]Animal Handling; Taking an animal into a crowded market
[indent=30]Business; Checking out the competition
[indent=30]Business; Local businesses vrs traveling merchants
[indent=30]Business; Choosing your stock
[indent=30]Business; The need to learn the local languages for traveling merchants
[indent=30]Leadership; Keeping a conversation on track

[indent=30]Injuries/Overstepping: N/A

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[indent=30]Experience: 8 points

[indent=30]Knowledge:
[indent=30]Negotiation - Offering Meals for Knowledge
[indent=30]Negotiation - Getting All You Can Get From Someone
[indent=30]Storytelling - Avoiding Gruesome Details
[indent=30]Interrogation - Asking Big Questions First
[indent=30]Psychology - Some People Are Loud, Some are Quiet
[indent=30]Tracking - Stalking Someone Through a Crowd
[indent=30]Tracking - Foreigners Make Waves
[indent=30]Stealth - Staying At A Target's Back

[indent=30]Injuries/Overstepping: N/A

[indent=30]Comments:

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