Chance Meeting

Tenebrae - Wednesday, April 17, 2013, 9:11 PM

-=--=--=--=--=--=<* A07: Local Alexandria Market District *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-

Just west of the Northern Highbridge and east of the arena, commerce blooms. Noisy and bustling, most anything may be purchased here for a price. Vendors from all cultures sell their wares from exotically colored carts, and the smells of different nations and far-off city-states mix with local ones from Alexandria and its riverbanks.

For all its commerce, visitors are advised to keep hold of their purses. Even the merchants possess a certain, cunning look. Most are positioned at carts or stalls as opposed to a formal storefront, with trade here being mobile, and visiting from all parts of the world.

Though the quality of goods suffers here compared to Upper Alexandria, the options are more diverse. Too, the oversight of the Watch is slightly less, and during times events are held at the Arena, chaos abounds. After dark, the square becomes a hangout for bards and other entrepreneurs whose business is best conducted by night; the shadows at the edges of the square often contain furtive figures engaging in their own brand of business.

Ferawyn has arrived.

Mikilos sits quietly at an outdoor cafe... which is to say 'a couple of rickity crates acting like tables and a guy hawking drinks nearby'. The elf fiddles with his drink, passivly watching a group of ork-kin haggle over a hill of beans across the way. Well parts of the bean hill. No one really wants the whole thing.

Ferawyn walks her way into the market actually taking a look at some of the merchant's wares as she passes by. However, she notices Mikilos and nods to him, before taking a look at a few more stands.... one of them holding herbs grown in their own garden.....or so they say.

SWAT! A stern blow to the back of the head, Younger sends a young toe-head pickpocket on his way. He counts his coins, stuffing them away almost-automatically when he is done, "Two 'n two days..." He snaps his fingers once, "Y'still got it, Youngah."

He walks near Mikilos, still grinning from his previous encounter. The urban barbarian pulls a cigat out from inside his jacket, biting down on the end. "Miki!" Younger bellows, grinning at him, "Dat fuggin' shirt..." He touches his lips with his fingers, "Dat fuggin' shirt!" He repeats, "It's fuggin' gorgeous... An' da ring! Da fuggin' ring, me delver!" Delver being a word he reserves only for those he hates the least.

Mikilos blinks, eyeing Younger a moment, glancing at his own current attire before understanding dawns. Following Younger's speech can be an adventure in itself sometimes. "Ah, yes. Glad you like it. Take it things have been working out for you of late?"

Ferawyn also looks to Mikilos' attire as Younger pretty much calls it out. She walks her way forward and quietly listens, since this particular dialect isn't familiar to her. However, she looks to Mikilos and speaksin Sildanyari. "Friend of yours? and why does he sound like he's only half pronouncing his words?"

Younger laughs, "Fuggin' /no/," He growls, glancing over at Ferawyn. He opens his mouth to continue bullshitting with Mikilos, when she starts speaking other languages. "Speak common, treetits! Dis is fuggin' Alex'ndria, ye kin?"

Mikilos quirks a brow, not exactly used to Youger's abrasive ways, but at least unsusprised by them. "Troubles, then?" Blinking, he glances to Ferawyn, taking a moment to switch language gears before answer in Sildanyari himself. "Distinct accent plus repeat physical trauma. You get used to it." He nods in agreement, switching back to the common tongue. "And he's right, it's polite to stick to the local vernacular."

Ferawyn chuckles a bit. "You.....really didn't want to hear the first thing that I was thinking, but I wanted to remain polite. I also didn't want to offend you with my question." She says in common.

Younger growls, "Always trouble, for da laborin' man." He lights his cigar, and looks up toward Ferawyn, "Y'fearin' y'moight hurt me feelin's?" He asks, cutting the air with his sarcasm. "Oi been stabbed by ever'thing that ever stabbed. Oi been blown up ah 'undred fuggin' toimes. Oi'm da baddest, meanest most son-'v'ah-bitch you moight ever meet, an' der Devils in 'Ell who cursed me name 'for they slid back down intah Tara's 'ell-foire snatch. Yesserday, some'ne dropped ah fuggin' Myrrish pianah on me 'ead, an' the fuggin' pianah broke firs..." He puffs from his cigar, "So spare me yer fuggin' comforts."

Mikilos snorts in mild amusement at Ferawyn, then frowns mildly at Younger. "....I hadn't heard of any falling pianos." One might note he's not doubting the outcome, just that he hadn't heard of it. The demon thing is fully accepted. He was there for that.

Ferawyn sighs a bit. "all right....it initially sounded like you were just stupid." She then shrugs. "Devils huh? Sounds like something I rean into out in the Felwood recently. One of them ate an arrow though."

Younger laughs, "Oi'm stupider'n shyte, honey! Totally fuggin' upsoiddown." He puffs from his cigar, "Dats me fuggin' job!" He chokes out another laugh, slapping his belly and making his magical chainmail shirt hiss lightly. When she speaks of devils, he closes one eye tight, the other one just sort of... stays open wide. "Ye fought ah debil, hm?" He asks, taking another look at her, puffing from his cigar like a chimney, grinning, showing his gold tooth. "Oi live fer it. Bein's of domination t'rough and born, y'kin?"

Mikilos glances between the two, frowning mildly. "Devils, or demons? The terms get interchanged in common use, but they're really quite diffrent beings. Both unplesant, mind you."

Ferawyn says, "These were different actually." She says to the both of them. "They hunt people for sport and delight in the torment they cause. Even their howl hurt your ears and they are quite fast. It actually takes elven perception to where these things were.""

Younger nods sagely, relaxing. He smokes from his cigar quietly a moment, perhaps reminiscing.

Mikilos frowns a moment and shrugs. "Could have been any number of infernal types. Most would hunt and hurt with little incentive... the howling bit sounds familiar, but admit I'm not placeing it. No real matter, I suppose."

Ferawyn says, "As long as they don't leave the Felwood they shouldn't be a problem." She says quite plainly. "The howling sent an oruch companion of mine into a trambling mess, before another howl sent him into a blood frenzy of sorts.....""

Younger shakes his head, "Oi dunnae know ah fuggin' t'ing 'bout the damned t'ings, 'cept to smash 'em intah teeny bits wif da best Oi got fer it." He reaches back and touches the handle of his reliable magic club. It is a gnarly thing, that club. "Ye keep to yer Felwood, 'n Oi'll keep out da critters from da Deepness." He nods once, in finality.

Mikilos nods in agreement, and sighs, idly rubbing his temple. "Just so long as they don't try to burn the Library again. Not the sort of place I expect to need my blade."

Ferawyn makes a bit of a face. "Libraries don't help you with everything. Some things require experience." She then chuckles a bit. 'Sounds like you two have enough of that though." She then shrugs a bit. "I should introduce myself though. Essence Ferawyn Windrunner."

Younger snorts, shrugging, "Neber met ah book Oi didnae wanna burn, meself!" He chokes out another laugh, puffing from that cigar of his. He looks to Ferawun when she introduced herself, "Bruce Da Youngah, atcher service, me-lay-dee." He rumbles, giving a terrible curtsy. "But ye'll call me Youngah, an' nevah Bruce, or Oi'm loikely tah slap ye on yer ear real 'ard 'n give ye ah fierce ache in ye head, 'r maybe poke ye in da eye. Oi'll slap yer sammich outta yer 'and, whens ye jus' starvin' n' ready tah bite intah it... So don' do it."

"Mikilostravia Abrioudelanarchie Mithralla." the elf rattles off automatically. "But just 'Mikilos' is fine. I take it you're fairly recently arrived to the city, miss Windrunner?"

Ferawyn hand waggles. 'if you consider arriving in the forest outside of Alexandria around 20 years ago recently, then yeah. Just never entered the city itself until about a week ago." She then chuckles. 'Younger huh? I'll have to remember that."

Remethaer has arrived.

Younger grins, 'Aye, y'should." He puffs from his cigar.

Mikilos snorts softly, but grins. "I did specific 'city'. Not one for walls and paved street, I take it."

Ferawyn shakes her head. 'Forests are more my home than cities." She says softly. "Much like your library."

Mikilos grins. "Well, I don't spend all my time in the library." He gestures around the market. "Obviously. Admit, is a large percentage of my time."

Ferawyn smiles. "Forest is my 'library', Mikilos. I enjoy it more than being in a city...."

Mikilos grins. "Well, I suppose a bit of processing and some ink, a tree isn't so different from a book. But admit, I've a harder time reading them."

Ferawyn chuckles. "I have no trouble with them. But it's a different type of reading, I'll admit." She says before turning. "Perhaps one day you can rest in the forest....and I can make you some tea."

Mikilos snorts again, and smiles. "I'll adapt better when I figure out how to write on one without getting in trouble. But a visit might come to pass."

Ferawyn nods. "Just don't expect to chop down a tree for a sheet of paper." She says poking her finger on Mikilos' chest.

Mikilos grins. "Certainly not just one. I'd expect at least ten sheets from a whole tree."

Ferawyn stares at Mikilos. "yeah......I don't think so." She says before turning. "I'm gonna head back to the forest....." She says before waving......

Mikilos rolls his eyes, but nods. "You do understand I'm kidding, yes? I've the knowledge to make my own paper, but lack the scale to make it practical."

Ferawyn looks back. 'I didn't know you were kidding actually. Thank you for telling me."

Mikilos nods. "I may favor the city, but I -am- still Sildanyar. Anyway, fare well."

Ferawyn smiles and waves. "and I am Sylvanori. I look forward to tea, Mikilos." And she walks out towards the forest.

Younger has left.