City of Milath

Marketplace


Jail

He and his soldiers escort Crow Reeds through the city, walking their horses slowly through the market place, until they come to Canal Street. They turned to ride along the canal until they come to a deep pool formed by the canal. In the center of the moat was a stone building with a narrow bridge and a wooden and iron gate. They turned onto the stone bridge and rode across, coming into a small courtyard. A group of servants and some guards came to take control of their horses and Crow. They took him inside to speak with the cell keepers then lead him down to a lower section and placed him in a rather clean cell, with an actually chamber pot, table, pitcher and bowl, and true cot with straw matress, pillow and blanket. They pushed him in and locked the door. A short time later, a slave brought a decent meal of stew with actual chunks of meat and vegetables in it. Another slave brought a bucket of clean water and left it on the table. The guard locked the door after the slaves left and went away.

There is a barred window in the wall, showing the water a few feet below. If one had a line and hook, they might even be able to catch a fish...if one trusted the water.

"Yay!  Food!  Thank you!" Crow cheered as soon as the stew with actual meat and vegetables in it was brought in.  He gratefully accepted the stew and ate it heartily for before he was captured it had been a while since he had a decent meal.  Once he was finished his meal, he drank up the bucket of water before neatly placing the empty bowl inside of it and leaving the bucket near the cell door.

Despite being locked up, it really wasn't all that an experience thus far.  Crow passed the time by taking three small rocks he found and attempting to juggle with them.  Of course, since he didn't really know how to juggle in the first place, he ended up dropping them over and over again.  His whistling rendition of the circus theme song seemed entertaining enough to the guards and the other prisoners, though.  After growing bored with that, he started bouncing one of the rocks on his right foot in a rhythmic manner.  Surprisingly, he had much more success with that than with the juggling.

As Crow looked out the barred window and into the water, he wondered what kinds of fish was living under there.  He also wondered if he should try catching something... but he needed a line and hook.  He kicked the rock he was 'lifting' into his open right hand, then walked over to the guard who was standing watch.  "Hey... has anyone ever tried catching something in that water outside over there?"

I guess you could try. I don't think I'd want to eat them though."

The guard making his rounds didn't make the mistake of coming too close to the door, even though the opening in the door, barred as it was, was very small, and reaching through would be very hard to do unless you were a child.

"Alright!  Let's do it!" Crow exclaimed enthusiastically as he tied a piece of string to a fishing hook he just so happened to have on him.  He tied the other end of the string between his index finger and thumb and around his right hand.  After that, he looked around for some bait before finally settling on a piece of leftover meat from the stew he ate earlier.  With the fishing line set, the young prisoner gently lowered the fishing hook and bait into the water outside.

Since there was nothing left to the fishing but to wait for a bite, Crow leaned against the barred window and continued 'lifting' the small rock with his left foot.  He attempted to kick the rock over his head and have it land on his heel, but it fell on his head.  The second attempt was a little more successful, but he wasn't able to catch the rock with his heel.  Several more attempts later and he was able to finally catch the rock with his heel after switching to his right foot instead.  After bouncing the rock on his right heel, he kicked it back over his head and caught it with the top of his right foot.

Along the far wall of the canal, a raccoon was splashing around in the water. Suddenly, it dipped a paw in and brought up a small fish. It immediately bit it's head then dipped it into the water to wash it. It chewed on it awhile, dipping it in again and again. The last time it dipped it in, it lost the remains of it, and felt around in the water looking for it, chittering away to itself in frustration.

"Eh?  Nothing yet..." Crow remarked to himself as he tugged on the fishing line a bit more.  After letting out a great big yawn, he kicked the rock against the wall and started bouncing it over and over again.  Unfortunately, he got in a bad kick and sent the rock flying through the bars of his cell door and into the cell across from his.  Truly just a fluke, but one the youngster couldn't help but attempt to recreate.

"What in the Empress' name is going on here?"
Raynald had come down to the cells. Once a month, he inspected the jail. He never announced the visit, and never let them know when he might swing by.
"Is this a cell block or the royal circus?"
Obviously, he had seen the rock go flying through the bars of the cell.
"A new one, hm?"
Raynald's bearded face appeared in outline at the window.
"Name and occupation, prisoner," he said, his voice rumbling through the darkness.

"Hi!  My name's Crow Reeds and I'm a prisoner!" Crow replied with a cheerful tone to his voice.  He walked over to the cell door to get a clearer look at Raynald, but realized that doing so meant lifting the fish hook out of the water.  To solve this 'problem' he simply lifted his hand behind him and tried getting as close to the door as possible.  Unfortunately, his arm and the string he used weren't that long even together.  "What's your name?"

"Who I am is of very little concern to you right now. Suffice to say, I have the authority to make sure you stay in that cell for a very long time if I so decide."
Raynald was hardly in the mood for flippant answers right at this moment. He had things to do, and people to see.
"Now, you give me stright answers, or I'll send you to the Selamas of Valkandis."
He paused, letting the prisoner think on that. "Now, what was your previous occupation."

Azumi had watched with eyes wide as the wagon had arrived in the city.  She had never seen such a vast array of buildings, of such size and cut stone.  And so many people, even at this early hour!

She had been in the wagon for almost a month now, although had lost track of time a while ago.  She had almost a dozen others for company, including a old man who seemed to just spend the day staring at her, his eyes travelling over her body with a glint in his eye that made her uncomfortable.  She only had a loin cloth and a ragged vest for attire, and much of her dirtied body was on display.

He had even taken every opportunity to paw at her until one night when he took it too far and she had left him with a broken nose sobbing in the corner of the cage.  She had received seven lashes for that, although she thought it worth it, as he left her alone the remainder of the trip.

As they pulled to a stop in the marketplace, they disembarked one by one, the driver ticking off their names on his itenery. Her legs were weak from lack of food and exercise so that she stumbled once she stepped down from the wagon.  A strange man was there to meet them and looked over each one in turn.  When he reached Azumi, he grabbed her chin roughly, tilting her face one way then the other - checking her teeth before running his eyes over her body - although unlike the fellow prisoner it was more like a farmer checking the health of a cow than a lecherous gaze.

"I think this one would interest Tiberius" he stated, this was followed by a knowing glance at the slaver and both of them broke into laughter at some secret joke. Then glancing at Azumi for the first time eye to eye added "today is not your lucky day girl".

"Take her to the palace, have her cleaned up and present her to Tiberius with my compliments, Take the rest to the jails and prepare them for the auction".

A small boy appeared from behind him probably on the verge of being a teenager and ran upto Azumi.  As he took a hold of the chain that attached to her neck collar he tugged her suprisingly hard so that she stumbled, although she managed to quickly catch her balance and fall into step.

>> To the Palace <<
This message was last edited by the player at 08:16, Sun 07 Oct 2007.

"I told you, I'm a prisoner..." Crow replied while looking directly into Raynald's eyes.  There was no question that the prisoner was being sincere with his answer.  After a couple of seconds, it looked as though a realization has dawned on him.  "Wait... I don't think I know what 'occupation' means.  Does that mean job?  If it means job, then I gotta tell ya... I hadn't had a job since... uh... just put me down as 'wandering traveller', okay?"

"...Right..."
Raynald looked over to the jailer. "Mark him down as a gift for the Sultana," he said, turning to leave. "Arn has no use for wandering travellers. They eat bread and drink wine, but contribute nothing to society."
He went to head up the stairs. There was quite a bit that he needed to take care of, and very little here to do now. "Everything appears in order, Jailer. Shore up that hole in Cell C. I would hate for him to die from a poisoned fish or a sewer rat."

"Ah... I remember now!  I used to be a mercenary!" Crow laughed as he slammed the back of his fist against his palm in realization.  He moved his fist back behind him so that the fishing hook was back in the water again.  As soon as he did, he felt something tug against the line.  "Oh!  I got something!  Alright!"

Excited about the prospect of getting some fish to eat, Crow started gathering up the string as best he could.  He had to use both hands since the fish he caught was heavy... only, it turned out he didn't catch a fish at all.  He caught a kitten.

"Eh?" Crow blinked once he realized what he caught.  The line was tangled all around the kitten, so it took a while to untangle it and free the furry little critter.  It was a strange looking cat with a mixture of black and white fur.  The mixture of black and white on the forehead was such that it looked as though there was a ying-yang symbol on it.

PM

Raynald heard the distant words of the prisoner in his cell. An old mercenary...
"Orders stand as they are," he called over his shoulder to the jailer. If he'd been a warrior so long ago he'd forgotten about it, he was of no worth to the General. He needed Valkandis' good will more than he needed a soldier.
Stifling a yawn, Raynald ascended the stairs. He would need to speak with several people about what to do during his leave.

PM

OOC: From the Palace

"The Market...I'll bet it looks familiar."
He gave a laugh. She'd come straight to him from the slave markets.
Milath, largest city in Arn, was a bustling metropolis. It's market was huge, with hundreds of people all trying to get their wares.
"The weavers are over here."
Reaching back, he grabbed Azumi's wrist. He would not lose her in the crowd.
"This way."

<< From Palace >>

Azumi was lost by the whirl of people and colours, she had tried studying their clothing to gauge what he was going to be buying her but had lost track of the different designs, materials and colours.

As he grabbed her hand she simply followed after him, a little at a loss as to what was going on.  If she were a slave, what did it matter of her clothing to him?

Crazy barbarians ...

Before long, Marcus had lead her to the clothiers. Fabrics of all colors and designs were on display.
"Here."
Marcus stood before one shop in particular. It was where he did all of his own shopping. He knew it to be a place of quality.
"Find what you like. If I believe it appropriate, than I will purchase it."

Behind the booth, an elderly woman leaned forward. She looked a little fearful of Marcus, giving him a deferential nod, then looking to Azumi, a quizzical look on her face as to what the young woman wanted.

She displayed the cloth and the clothing she had available, all of good quality, though she had some of greater quality in the back of the kiosk, she thought perhaps the gentleman wouldn't wish to dress the girl in the finest silks or satins or velvets. Those were usually for the very richest women or men, and he didn't look like that type.

"These are of very fine quality My Lord."

Azumi glacned at the old women, and then at all the fine items on display.  She was a little at a loss, unsure just what exactly he wanted her in attire-wise.  She would dress differently depending on if she were working fields, scrubbing floors, cooking ... although she was not sure if that was what he intended for her ...

She shrugged a little helplessly, at the old lady.  "Something in blue, or dark blue?" she hazarded, thinking upon his earlier words.  "Perhaps something red or green ... " she added, thinking of the kimono's back home, and pointing out one of the dresses that looked the closest to it.

"Seven of them please, in different colours.  And then one of your finest dresses" she picked up confidence as she went on, levelling her gaze at the lady to meet her demand.

She nodded and gathered 7 different bolts of material up, taking them to the cutting table and one at a time, she laid out the material, cut it to length, closed her eyes and run her hand along the raw edge, sealing it with her clothworking power, and when done cutting, she laid them all one on top of the other and carefully rolled them up in a smooth wrinkleless roll with a protecting raw cotton cover on the outside.

She looked the girl over carefully as she stood near the pole of the kiosk, judging her size by the marks on the inner side of the pole that marked height, then went to a rack of dresses her aproximate size. She asked about matching blouses and underskirts and adds those if they assent.

What color do you want for the dress? And do you wish a top or two to wear under the saris? We also have matching pantaloons and underskirts."

Glancing at the beautiful fabrics, Azumi could only nod her head absently to the old ladys questions, her hand running across the silky material in wonder.  She still had trouble contemplating all this was for her ...

She indicated her own clothing "Just a loincloth will do ... " she answered, regarding what to wear underneath.  She was unused to heavy clothing and could see too many items being stifling.

"Something blue?" she asked for the dress,  Pointing at some material.  "But could you cut it shorter, just below the hip?  And perhaps embroid a dragon on it?" she wanted something easier to move in, that would not constrict her legs.


This message was last edited by the player at 20:16, Wed 10 Oct 2007.

Marcus had been watching, listening to the conversation between Azumi and the old woman.
"No dragon."
He spoke up when Azumi began describing what she wanted. "It will take too long to complete."
In truth, Marcus did not want it, because it looked too foreign. He tried to distance himself from that as much as possible
He looked over to the woman. "We will take the seven you have shown, as well as a white silk gown."

She nodded.  Although inwardly disappointed she tried not to show it, having felt she had gotten carried away somewhat.

She simply nodded, and looked down at the floor to await the old lady carrying out Tiberius's instructions.

Marcus watches as the old woman worked her magics.
"Here."
He tossed down the required coins, done up in a small satchel. Ten gold and thirteen silver.
"Come. We will drop these off at my quarters. I am done for today. When we return to my chambers, I will tell you what is expected of you."

"The dragon would not be hard, but the length would take more time to get right Miss. It shall be as you wish, Sir."

She searched through the racks and drew forth a white dress of gauze with silver thread running through it, showing it to them. Then she proceeded to wrap up the sari's she'd showed them as well as a plain white gauze blouse and plain white under skirt for the sari's. She handed the large package to the girl and took the money he offered. She gave the girl a look as she handed her the package, then ducked her head as she placed the coins in the lock box bolted to her under counter.

She took the package from the old lady with a nod of thanks.  With a glance at Tiberius, she hefted the pile of cloting to ensure she had a tight hold, and nodded.

She followed him out from the shop and back to his quarters - wondering just what his last words would entail.

"Come on."
Marcus turned to head back to the palace and his own chambers. Azumi had proper clothing now, and it was time to make sure she knew what was expected of her as his slave, his property.
He glanced over his shoulder now and then, just to make sure she still followed. She had to use both hands to keep a hold on her new clothing, so he could not grip her arm as he had before.

OOC: To the Palace!

She followed behind him as best she could, occaisionally being knocked by passers by threw her off balance, although she quickly recovered and quickened her steps to easily catch him up.  She could just about see over the several packages of clothing, and her small height meant she was often collided into by people not seeing her.

At one point she was sure someone even purposefully tried to trip her, although she managed to recover, only half-stumbling, a small pain flaring in her ankle where she twisted it slightly.

She hurried after him, ignoring the dull ache in her ankle aswell as her arms that were growing tired.

<< To Palace >>

OOC: From the prisons!

Raynald, in the company of a pair of soldiers, was busy postering notices around the city. Each had a short number of words listed on it, as well as a pair of marks on the bottom. The first was his own, an upright warhammer with flames behind it. The second was the mark of the Empress and the royal house.

Here ye here ye...
It is the will of the Empress;
That all who wish to;
Accompany a caravan to the lands of Valkandis.
Traders, travellers, and warriors welcome.
Payment in full for escort upon safe arrival in Valkandis.

The bottom of the notice is signed Raynald von Zinzer, General of the Armies of Arn and Baron of the Northern Reaches.

"Bored... so bored... I guess this is the punishment part of being in prison, huh?" Crow muttered as he lied down on the cot and stared up at the ceiling.  He tilted his head to the side and watched the little raccoon he fished up eat what was left of the nearly empty bowl of stew.  "I should probably come up with a name for you... how bout... uh... well... no... probably not that... well will you look at that.  I'm not bored anyway."

"Fifteen... sixteen..." Crow counted.  He was doing push-ups with his hands against the floor and his feet resting on the sill of the barred window.  As he did his exercises, the raccoon, Cooper sat down on the cot and watched his new owner in silence.

"Why did I start doing these again?  Twenty-six..." Crow asked himself before counting off the number of sit-ups he did so far.  He wasn't quite sure how much time had passed since he was first imprisoned and he wasn't sure how long it took before he was out again.  In the meantime, he figured this was as good an opportunity as any to do some basic training.  For what, he wasn't sure.  He was just plain bored.

His thoughts drifted back to the days when he was a member of a team of mercenaries.  He remembered one time when a senior member caught a two-headed fish and how no one wanted to eat it.  Another senior had the bright idea to suggest that they had a sit-up competition and the one who did the least had to eat it.  Crow grinned at that memory.  God that fish tasted awful.

   Walking down the dingy corridor, the Chief Jailor, along with four large guards, approached Crow's cell and leered at him through the bars. Each guard was armed with a nasty looking club and the Jailor wore broad, flat sword with a bronzed hilt thrusting up from a bronze bound leather sheath at his side. Gesturing one of the guards forward, he watched with a crooked toothed grin as a pair of manacles were tossed onto the floor in front of Crow.
   "Put em on, you dirty mongrel. You're coming out of your kennel today, mate. You're for the Sultana, so you are. Hurry up then, we're going to clean you up a bit so's ye'll be presentable to her Highness..hehe. You should feel honoured boy, its not every worthless drifter who is given as an Imperial gift to a Sultana!"
   The Jailor waits until the prisoner dons the manacles before he opens the door...

"Hmm?" Crow looked down at the manacles on the floor before him with a somewhat confused look on his face.  He lifted them by the chains with his index finger and eyed them curiously before putting them on.  After snapping one manacle on, he moved his hands behind his back and snapped the other one on.  With a goofy grin on his face, he asked the jailer, "So it's true?  I get to meet the Sultana?  Heh... I wonder what she's like."

   Leering at the prisoner, the Chief Jailor laughs, a most unpleasant sound. Shaking his head he nods to Crow. He wipes his nose with a dirty hand and grins evilly.
   "Oh aye, ye'll met her so you will. General Von Zinzer's orders. Of course, from what I hear tell of the Sultana and her...appetites' ye'll likely wish you hadn't..hehe. Now hury your carcass out of there.  Wouldn't want to keep her Majesty waiting. Help encourage him lads."
   Two burly guards enter the cell and put their hands warningly to their weapons. They lead Crow down the dingy hallway, other prisoners in their cells cackling, screaming, wailing, and begging behind them, arms reaching through the bars in vain hope of release. The Jailor and his guards mostly ignore them, except for the occasional smack with a club to outstretched limbs in their path.
   Eventually they pass through the iron bound thick oak door and turn to the right, bringing Crow to a small area, barely large enough for one man. Gesturing for him to enter, removing his manacles carefully, they step back, closing the door after him.  Inside on the flagtones is an old wooden bucket filled with soapy water and a rag hanging over the brim. The room is very dark, only the light from the corridor outside giving any visibility at all.
   "Right, wash up then, you scabby cur.  When ye're done bang on door and we'll bring you some clean clothes.  That should be good enough for now.  Then we'll take you to see the General."

"Eh... I... see?"  Crow scratched his head as he stared at the old wooden bucket of soapy water before him.  He watched Cooper move up to the bucket and look into the water.  The raccoon stared at his reflection in the water before dipping his hands in and washing it.  Shrugging his shoulders, Crow removed his clothes and proceeded to wash himself with the rag.  As he washed himself, he hummed a simple tune to himself.

A few seconds into the song and he was singing at full volume.  He didn't have a bad voice... at least not bad enough to warrant a complaint under normal circumstances, anyway.  Once he was done, he grabbed the bucket and poured the rest of the water over his head.  Cooper was in the bucket, so he fell on top of the youngster's head.  Deciding that he was done, the freshly cleaned young man knocked on the door.

"Um... excuse me!  I'm done, so... uh... yeah..."

   "Right then, outside," the Jailor growls, looking at Crow meaningfully and tossing him the manacles once more. "If you're done with all that wailing and carrying on, we'll be seeing General Von Zinzer now. This way lad."
    With guards behind him, and the Jailor in front, Crow is lead forth, out of the dungeon and into the daylight, dazzling after so long in the dingy prison cells. Striding at a good clip, the Jailor makes his way to the training grounds, keeping his head high as he tries, unsucessfully, to look important. Looking over his shoulder at Crow he chuckles.
  "I should think the Empress will be wanting to see her gift to the Sultana, want to make sure its worthy. Course the General will decide what's best, its not for me to say. You're out of my charge, you shiftless dog, and I'm done with you just as soon as we reach the training field. You'll see some real men there, I'll wager."

<To Barracks & Training Fields in the City of Milath>
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:38, Mon 05 Nov 2007.

Cooper the raccoon scanned the hallways, choosing to stick to the shadows and out of sight.  He slipped through a doorway and scanned the room, searching for the items he was looking for.  Once he realized he was in the wrong room, he slipped back out the door and continued on... following the trail of the right kind of scent.

OOC: From the Palace

"This is the punishment for your actions, girl," Marcus said to Shigure. He kept a hand on her shoulder, leading her through the bustling streets toward the slave pens. "Count yourself lucky that the Empress did not sentence you to death."
Moving through the busy streets, Marcus eventually lead Shigure to the slave pens. Several dozen slaves were being held there in large pens, perhaps a half dozen to each pen.
"You're under my command for the enxt year. Get used to it."

From Palace

Shigure follows through the streets as best she can, dodging most people and mumbling apologies to those she runs into. As Marcus leads her past the slave cages she looks at them distastefully, "Ugh. I'm not going to be put in them am I?"

It didn't look like fun, and those in the cages looked... dirty. She grimaces at the cages, she liked being clean and appealing. Surely he wouldn't waste her in those cages.

"You're hardly going in there," Marcus told her, looking with a grimace at the pens. He tried to keep them clean. Keeping the pens clean, however, was like trying to teach a cripple to walk...You just couldn't do it.
"Empress Sidi said you would be going with us to Valkandis. You will cook and clean while on the road, as well as anything else I deem appropriate. There could be no better training than what will come."
He came to his own 'office' within the pens, a one room building with a cabinet, a desk, and a chair inside. Reaching to a peg on the wall, he produced a dark leather collar, as well as shackles for both arms and legs.
"Put these on," he told her, tossing them to the ground before her.

Shigure shrugs and sits on the floor, relieved she wouldn't be left in one of those crowded cages. She looks at the shackles and picks them up, studying them briefly before attaching them to her ankles. She had to remove her boots, but then again, she had been told to dispose of her clothes anyway, eventually she would lose it all. It didn't really matter to her, not anymore, she would do as she was told... most of the time anyway.

She smiles again as she stands and attaches the collar around her neck, pulling it tight she locks it. Lifting up the remaining shackles on the floor with her toes she picks them up with a hand and drops them on the desk. Presenting both her wrists she looks expectantly at Marcus. "Please."

Marcus watched as Shigure attached the collar and ankle shackles. Little emotion showed in his eyes. This, to him, was more business than anything. These little street urchins needed to be taught a lesson. If executing a few, or putting a few into shackles, would put teh rest in line, then so be it.

As she dropped the wrist shackles onto his desk, he raised a brow. He had reached into a drawer in the desk, producing a length of chain, a sort of leash for her collar.
"You want to know what happened the last time somebody did that?" he asked her. He meant, of course, the last time a slave had asked him to put the manacles onto their arms. "They punched me in the nose and tried to run."
He grinned slightly. "I killed them."

Weather or not he was bluffing was difficult to tell. All the same, he walked comphortably with a sword at his side, and was undoubtedly familiar with the whip at his belt.
He picked up the manacles, and slid one ofer her left wrist, closing it tight around her slender arm.

Shigure's smile widens at his story, but watches the whip on his hip uneasily as he walks closer to her. She doesn't flinch as he closes a cuff around her wrist, she probably could have done it herself but she was reluctant to 'seal' her punishment by locking the last restraints herself. She didn't think og struggling, or escaping, remembering those in the cages and thinking that it could always be worse than it was.

Once the manacles are secure she shakes her hands, wondering at the sound the chains make, wondering if she would ever get used to them. "When do we we leave?" She lifts a hand and scratches at the collar around her neck, "What do we do till then?"

"We leave tomorrow," Marcus told her, closing the second manacle about her wrist. "Bright and early with the rising sun. Ten hours march, then pitch camp with the setting sun."
Marcus grinned at that. He'd been in the army, once upon a time, so a good march was no trouble for him. He didn't tell Shigure, of course, that he would be on a horse, and she would be in one of the supply wagons.
"Until then, I have no idea. You could hardly know anything about cooking, cleaning, or the other things which a proper slave should know. You are pretty enough to enjoy physically...Though you've no doubt numerous diseases...Probably fleas, too."

Shirgure gasps in surprise, "I do not have fleas!" She frowns, looking a bit insulted, "I keep clean. I have no disease." She looks Marcus over, "I bathed not even a day before I got caught, no doubt it has been some time since you had time to wash."

She smiles, going from insulted to excited in a matter of moments, "I know! I could wash you." She grins, "It'll be a while till you next get a chance."

"Despite the lack of sophistication among these people, we are not all like the good General and the commoners of Arn."
Marcus bathed nearly every day. When working amongst the filth of the Pens, it was difficult to stay clean and pest-free, so he made it a task at the end of every day to bathe.
He would forgive the girl her words for now. In time, she would learn to stay quiet and subservient.
"A bath does sound good," he agreed. The road to Valkandis would be without such luxuries as baths, the water being used for more important tasks.
"Come then," he said, giving the chain at her throat a light tug.

OOC: To Marcus' chambers

Shigure follows obediently, not that she had much of a choice anymore, collared as she was. Not that she noticed, but she had already forgotten the noise and weight of the restraints.

To Marcus' chambers

  Rinaldo Eyed the market from a side street as if he were looking into a pit full of vipers and hungry lions. Just a momentary pause as he and Stardancer walked from the Estate to the bazaar.

He wore a particularly non-descript cloak over the light hand tooled and tailored leather armor he wore under it. And his knives were out of sight as best he could manage. Only the slim razor edged sword he carried rode obviously visible to discourage the foolish.

"I was thinking now that we have a few coin to rub together we find you something You like, and I replace a bit of my kit that I lost when I was flitting about chasing  snails."I have to visit a few specialist merchants first." He motioned to the sea of stalls, kiosks and peddlers showing their wares "somewhere in this sea of scoundrels we should find  someone who has something you are comfortable in."

Stardancer grinned.  "I will be ever present at your side unless you ask otherwise.  After all I am your bodyguard" she reminded him.  In the large market she felt more...confident than the last time she was here.  "I wonder if we might find the gypsies Master Judos spoke of.  I know Jolanta spent time with them.  I would like to tell them of her and her companion" It had been a long time.

"Finding gypsies in a market is a bit like finding sand in the desert." Rinaldo sighed and chuckled."It's the finding of a specific band of Gypsies that's the tricky part.

Putting this on flex time so you can do this and join the mage tower thread too if you wish.

"In a human city this large I don't think it would be easy either.  Still I would like to try" She smiled as they walked about, she for one just happy to have 4 legs again, the night before was most interesting though. "I was thinking that if what happened last night should occur again ....perhaps I should have atleast something suitable to be in public with.  Don't you agree?"

"We'll give it a try. Even if we can't find them we should be able to find out where they went." Rinaldo paused and smiled for a moment." I think we can find clothing for you. You might even want to pick up a few nice things while we are out. After all, we can't go around dressed like ragamuffins no that we are Nobles."

he led the way into the Bazzar with a smile and whistling a merry tune. keeping  one hand on his purse, and the other near a knife.

Stardancer followed no more than 5 steps behind Rinaldo at most.  Crossing the wide avenues crowded with stalls and carts selling various things.  It had been so long since she had been in the Bazaar.  Still she did spy a seller of clothing, one she had bought a few of the blouses Zahid liked at the time.  She said nothing though, the past was past.  "If need be I can sew something useable.  If we find nothing, then perhaps a bolt of cloth"