Snippet #2698599

“A day on the street, a fine day,” Jolloc walked with both of his arms crossed on his head to reveal his flexing biceps beneath his spaulders, “You agree?”

Huo paid no heed to Jolloc as his eyes wove through the crowded and buzzing marketplace. A multitude of voices clamored. Syel’Breh had yet to reach its conclusion as the smell of incense and myrrh alongside fresh yams and sweet bread congregated in the air.

“We could have waited for them to come back before heading to the market…” Lir said, “Though, I don’t mind a day out in the city. It’s certainly a change of scenery.”

She preferred to walk in front of Sanvi in case the Kaleth girl forgot restraint and brushed her aside with those wings into one of the stalls. Lir ambled with her hood drawn back. She no longer feared the assassins as she did back in Dessor. Though she did keep a wary eye every now and then, but the Foreign Quarter made it more difficult for her to distinguish an Imperial from a native.

“I agree, the fresh air is good for all of us, but you especially Miss Lir,” Jolloc’s eyes turned to her, “That old man…” he shook his head, “Are you two really a couple? I never would have pictured…” a coy smile spread on his face.

“One, he’s not an old man, why does everyone think that… And two that’s none of your business,” Lir dashed her burning green eyes at the orc briefly.

“Well it becomes my business when another man enters territory that I thought was fair game. I want to know if I still have a chance,” Jolloc chuckled.

“Territory? Why are we even talking about this?” Huo scoffed, “You don’t ever turn off the crap that spews out of your mouth, do you?”

Jolloc produced a false exaggerated pout.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Huo walked on.


Lir cut between the two of them, “Even if I wasn’t taken, you lack the maturity that I look for in a man. You never had a chance to begin with, darling. Don’t bother trying.”

Jolloc’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, but his cheeky brows said everything. He followed his upturned lip with an exhale. He plucked a coin pouch from his belt and sifted through the many coppers and few silvers within.

“I forget that it’s Syel’Breh, there won’t be any meat until sundown,” the orc perused the various vendors and bazaars to find something filling.

“What is Syel’Breh? Some sort of holiday?” Huo glanced at the crowd, he suspected the people of Khi’ir had a reason to be festive. He never pegged anyone to be of the festive sort by nature.

The kids played along the half dirt half paved street of the assorted marketplace which seemed to grow and spread organically.

“It’s a holiday to celebrate the goddess of the moon, Zerysh,” Jolloc said, “We Syakhi, believe her to be the patron of fertility and growth.”

“Back in Dessor, the moon is known as Khylas, and he’s a god. But I don’t think he’s given this much respect,” Lir thought that little fact about the moon to be interesting.

“Ah, yes, I forget, all of you are from Dessor, no?” the orc nodded.

Huo would have refuted that, but he chose not to make much of it. Even if he spent most of his life there, he had been born in Syakh. However, details about his life were not important to anyone other than him.

“Best you get used to the culture here, you might appear disrespectful if you didn’t. Cities on the coast like Khi’ir, and especially places like this quarter, are lenient, but deeper in, if you fail to observe the customs or traditions,” Jolloc pretended to cut his neck with a forefinger.

“What is the penalty?” Lir asked, she preferred an exact answer. Typical of mages.

“Well, some places, take Asyral for instance, ban the use of magic by foreigners. Guards will have little stopping them from executing foreign mages.”

“How archaic!” Lir gasped, her brow knotted.

The orc shrugged, “It seems archaic to you, but it’s tied to the delicate matter of politics in this land,” his voice turned somber, “It’s for those reasons that insurgent groups like the Intifada formed. It’s all very complicated. I haven’t really grasped the nuances myself, but I’d rather spend time earning coin instead.”

“A noble pursuit,” Huo quipped.

The marketplace in the Foreign Quarter oddly agglomerated and continued to mesh as they ventured further. Various fabric cloths draping across buildings above the city streets along with the clotheslines provided shade. As the sun shone through their fibers the colors blanketed the faces of the crowd. The Osu found a vendor with pastries and fruits laid bare for them.

“Salaam aleikum,” the man said, which Huo understood.

Dhaxi taught him that it was a common Dumic greeting, mostly reserved for D’homani or natives of Syakh.

“You like apples, sahib? My pastries are with apple filling,” the baker gestured to his goods.

They paid for a few of the pastries and ate them as they went on. Huo considered it decent, but he could eat gruel without complaint as well. Lir’s journey had been paved without the comforts of delicious homecooked meals that she may have been used to back at home being a noblewoman herself. Her taste yielded before her survival when they first conflicted.

“I think we should talk to Captain Eiraendar,” the Osu fighter turned to the mage, “Maybe have him ready on the other side of the desert with his ship to take us back to Dessor.”

“I doubt he’ll be so kind as to wait for us on the far side of a continent, we don’t even know where our trek will lead us and where the nearest port will be afterward,” Lir interposed.

Huo nodded, she had a point.

Jolloc nudged Sanvi, “I’ve always wondered what it feels like to have wings. I imagine them to be cumbersome and annoying. You’ve been quiet, care to give your thoughts on our little expedition, thus far? We haven’t left, but input from everyone involved could go a long way.”

While the others continued strolling, Lir stopped at a stall and eyed some of the work on the kerchiefs. She stooped to touch the soft silk with her fingers. It reminded her of her mother’s. She wondered how her parents fared back at home. She wondered if they had already been executed for treason.

A man interrupted her thoughts, “Fine work, isn’t it?”

Lir heard the man’s crispness of accent when he spoke Common. She thought his voice to be deep with grating sophistication. She turned to see the man who spoke. He had a square jaw, dark blue emblazoned eyes, and dark brown hair.

“Yes, a fine work,” Lir nodded to him, “Though, I must say I’m quite surprised to meet a man who shares any inkling of interest in fabrics.”

The man chuckled, “One in a million. Paecus Ixipas, I am a merchant of fabrics myself. I find it helpful to peruse about the assorted fashions of the day.” he said and looked at her.

“Lir Syoelle,” the mage nodded.

She caught his eyes again for a split second, but she felt different. She suddenly froze. A burning sensation dragged across her spine. Her breath slowed to the point where she could hear each individual inhale. Fear.

Lir smiled and left.

She sought to regain her breath as she caught up with the others. She glimpsed back at him.

Paecus Ixipas watched on.