Talia, Aerex, Vorodon, and Kasin. Dockside
Aerex and Vorodon met Talia downstairs, and the three soon departed the comforts of the inn, and merged into the chaos of the morning streets.
As they walked Aerex explained the peculiar note he had found from “KM” and Kyrian’s assumed plight at the docks. Talia stared in wonder and surprise all around her as she listened to Aerex. She had literally never seen as many people, crowding the same spaces, as she was seeing now, ever in her life. Vorodon was quiet, still perturbed at the shopkeeper from the previous day who simply refused to understand plain common. The half-ogre looked to be in some discomfort as he likewise gawked at Jantir’s citizenry and its pomp and circumstance. Well, at least my darts are sharp once more, the giant thought, as some scrawny merchant insisted the half-ogre get out of his way.
Aerex took the quickest route he knew, and the trio wound there way past the Temple District, along Draggone’s Way, and across the magnificent Dynast’s Bridge of Triumph. Aerex commented on the sites and sounds around him, and briefly related the history and dichotomy of cultures, two in particular, which had forged Jantir over the centuries into what it was.
As he spoke, Aerex was actually lost in thoughts of his own. His eyes darted to and fro, expecting at any moment to see or notice someone he knew. He remembered the day he left the city, he remembered his father, his colleagues, and the circumstances of his past. All these memories came rushing back in earnest now, the sites, sounds, and smells of his birth city, enhancing his visions.
At last the three paused, as Aerex pointed to an outdoor smithy, situated along Tinsmith’s Plaza.
Maugamer’s Forge, the sign read, and as Aerex explained to Talia., no finer weapon smith existed in Jantir. If anyone could put a proper edge on the Blade-dancer’s fans it was Maugamer the urbanized dwarf, Aerex concluded confidently.
<ooc> Talia, feel free to leave the fans here to get honed, or come back to do so later, if ye wish</ooc>
Later still, the companions finally crossed over into Baycity, a part of Jantir as large in area as any other whole city in the Empire.
Here the domes and minarets of the Central District, gave way to more humble buildings and abodes, though there were just as many people in the streets here.
The great feature of Baycity however, other than the tiered streets, and perilously perched shops, was the blue-green waters of the Bay of Screaming Eagles, with a thousand ships and boats bobbing in the harbor, and a thousand times that in gulls and other birds, circling overhead, whitening the skies with their flocks, and screeching in a deafening cacophony. It was truly a site to behold, and the aroma of the sea permeated the air, as the three companions descended along the tiered, narrow streets and into the din and clamor of the docks.
Here the air suddenly smelled more of fish than the sea itself, and Aerex now paused and looked about once more, finally spying the mile-long outdoor market of fish-mongers known locally as Zjerzhon’s Emporium, where countless outdoor stalls and stone slabs, featured every creature of the known sea for sale, and some that weren’t known, some alive, some dead, some dried and salted. Fish-mongers screamed over one another, and brandished their fish knives, as almost every few minutes, more and more fish were brought from the nearby ships and boats for the fish-mongers to butcher and sell.
At that moment, Aerex spotted a man he once knew well, and his heart skipped a beat. Speaking to a filthy looking fish-monger was an aging gentleman, square-chinned with a shaven bald head, in his late sixties by his appearance, and sporting a maze of wrinkles around his eyes, his poorly-tanned forehead shining in the sun. Thyran Domavaulage was far from his supply shop in the Central District this day, Aerex thought and smiled.
Just then, as Aerex stared at his old friend, Vorodon, sharp-eyed as ever spotted the another man, a man the half-ogre still remembered best for his mad dash down the hill at the verbeeg, one Kasin Mirinar.
The bard looked about nervously, as he wandered the stalls of Zjerzhon’s Emporium, stopping occasionally to examine drift-wood tables laden with stinking fish. He had not apparently noticed Vorodon, Aerex or Talia as of yet.
<ooc> more to come actually, but feel free to post</ooc>