Following a Portent

Colosseum District, midday

Another clear, bright, and hot day in Alexandria. Dusty, too, at least for those on the sands of the Colosseum. Bryn exits from the same, her verdant flesh covered in a mottled dusting adhered by sweat, a large curved blade stowed over her shoulder. Neither the blade nor herself are bloodied, though, which is a good thing... and better than she's been in the recent past.

This bright and sunny day isn't as brutal as some, but there are always those you don't expect to see in the district. Such a one is the elegant-looking half-elf who slips through the crowds, clad in a light cotton robe over a simple tunic and trousers, all in hues of white accented with deep blue. Simple shoes cover his feet, and Telamon's haversack is slung on his hip, and he seems focused on looking for someone, or something.

Now that she's out of the sands, the oruch now notices how much she brought with her. She comes to a stop and props up a foot on one of the stones of the outer wall to brush at a leg. This is only marginally effecive, but her idle glancing down the road in the process reminds her of an alternative; there is the TarRaCe not too far up the road. Her eye also spies the robed half-elf amongst the pedestrians. Not only is he mildly conspicuous in his 'casual finery,' but a lingering look sparks some recognition. Bryn may have only met briefly the Telamon once, but the situation was rather.. memorable.

It's hard to forget those dark, star-shot eyes, the face that promised hope. Telamon comes to a stop next to a vendor selling a cavalcade of minor curios; small charms and medallions, scroll-cases and bottles of saint's-tears, lucky devices for those warriors -- and others -- who pray that their next battle might not be their last. Tel hasn't noticed Bryn's stares yet (he gets a lot of them anyways), as he inquires with the vendor... asking about someone judging from his words. "...You bought a consignment of items from the Trendel estate, didn't you? I'm looking for something specific..."

Bryn thinks a moment, then puts her leg down to walk towards Telamon and the vendor. She can't picture him needing, much less looking for, baubles for luck even from what little she's seen. Little mind was paid to that stall before, herself, either; she didn't have much interest in scrolls and didn't put much faith in lucky charms.

"You get lost? I think the big magic's over on the other side of the river..."

The vendor looks slightly flabbergasted at Telamon, perhaps startled at how... precise the sorcerer's information is. He pulls out a crate, setting it on the simple table in front of him for Tel to pick through.

"Sometimes it's not about magic. Sometimes it's about a scrap of information, long-lost, and just waiting to be found again..." Telamon glances up, then does a double-take as he sees who's addressing him. "-Well- now, I'm glad to see you landed on your feet here!" His expression curves into a cheerful smile, as he offers Bryn a bow. "You're looking better than the last time we met."

Bryn rolls her shoulders in a shrug, returning the smile with a tusked grin. "Eh. Landed on my arse, but I know how to get back up. Still workin on it, but could've landed in worse places." She looks from him to the crate and back. "You got talent for findin lost stuff. Whatever you're lookin for, sure you'll find it."

Telamon claps Bryn on the shoulder. "There are definitely worse shorelines to wash up on." He turns his attention back to the crate, poking through it and shaking his head. "No... no... not that one, either... wait..."

Near the bottom, he reaches in with careful fingers, and removes an ivory scroll-case, sealed with lead. His eyes flash for a moment, and he's all smiles. "There we go. I knew I'd find you here..." He gives the vendor a shrewd look. "How much for this..." He pauses, seeing a small silver charm in the shape of a raven. "...and that too?"

"Can always be worse, yeah," Bryn doesn't say more as Telamon has his attention taken by the offerings. Whatever the significance of the things that grab him, she doesn't know it on sight. Of course, she's not an archmage, and just a dusty, sweaty oruch.

The vendor's canny enough to know the archmage wants this, but he's not so foolish as to try to drive an unworkable bargain. A price is named -- probably a little higher than necessary, but Telamon pays it without a qualm, coins dropping into the man's hand. The scroll-case is immediately dropped into his haversack, but he pauses to cradle the raven charm in his hand.

"Do you believe in portents -- Bryn, correct? Signs gifted to us, to light our way?" The half-sil pockets the charm, looking up at the oruch. "Sometimes when he seek answers, we can find clues in surprising places."

"Eh..." Bryn doesn't have the most clear answer, initially. "Shit happens. Sometimes we see it comin, sometimes not. There's always a way out of it though. If you look hard enough. That count?"

Telamon tilts his head. "I'm not sure myself." He beckons for Bryn to walk with him. "But I do believe in that sort of thing. The gods will sometimes gift us a touch of insight, when we seek a path forward. Dreams, prophecy, augury -- all of these things."

He rubs his chin. "That was why I came here. A specific hint, for something I was seeking -- a document, hidden away during the lifetime of Lord Trendel. With his passing his sons opted to dispose of much of his property -- can't blame them, they have their own lives to live -- and a small parcel of collected items landed in the hands of that trader."

Bryn's brows raise at all that, like a pair of caterpillars posturing at each other, though she falls in stride with him. "Huh. I ain't seen gifts like that, or dreams like that. Maybe I will someday, maybe not. All's I can do is look at what's in front of me."

She makes another, now more casual, attempt to brush off more of the lingering sand. "Guess he had alot of stuff? We never had more than we could carry. Because we had to carry it."

"You never know. Things like aspects, or the talent... they can arise in a person, and they will never be the same." Telamon muses on the thought. "I know I'm not the same man I was when I first came to Alexandria. I'd like to think I'm a better one though."

He offers Bryn a wry grin. "Oh yes. That's the peril of settling down. You start to accumulate things. I've noticed it myself, in fact. Even magic can only take you so far in carrying it, too." He sighs. "I hope I never find myself in that situation -- but I know what I'd take with me if I had to go. As long as Lana is with me, though, I'd be happy to start over again."

"Yeah," Bryn nods, like she is familiar with all of those. "Shit happens." Well, it -does- encompass all of that (and alot more), if very broadly. "Course you're not the same as you were a week ago, or even yesterday. That's called livin and learnin. Growin, to ma's ma. Better than dyin."

"Indeed. Dying's overrated. Better to live." Telamon smiles. "So what have you been doing here in Alexandria? You seem to be fitting in well... granted, the city is notoriously happy to welcome anyone in who isn't causing excessive trouble." His lips quirk. "Yes, there are 'acceptable' levels of trouble. Such is the price of having adventurers in town."

Bryn snorts out a half-laugh. "Livin, sure. Fittin in.. maybe. Been doin what I can. Eatin. Drinkin. Walkin." She waves a hand around. "Big place, lots to see here. Wouldn't be right to head off before seein all I can." Her hand lowers. "Next I'm workin. Walkin is free, but the rest ain't. Good for me those Guild folks are always looking for someone to do something."

Telamon laughs softly. "Ah, but it's actually easy to fit in here. I think the hardest part is just trying to keep up with the city's pace. It's definitely a little more... energetic than some places I've been." He nods approvingly. "The Guild is -always- hunting for some likely people to manage a problem. Sometimes it's a big one, sometimes it's -- relatively small."

"Good," Bryn is pleased about that. Maybe all of that. "Need to stay moving, or busy, or both. Sit on your arse too long and it'll fall off. I wanna keep mine. Bein still and quiet is for sleepin, and can only do so much of that."

Telamon's grin is engaging. "Would it surprise you to know I've heard the same saying, albeit differently? Don't stand still so long you start to turn into a tree." Tel rubs his chin. "I think the worst part is how much of a waste it'd be. You're here to change the world -- or at least, a small part of it. Why sit around?"

Bryn returns the grin. "Turn into a tree... I'll remember that one. Good knowing other folk know not to just lay around. Didn't think I'd wind up here and when I did, didn' know what it'd be like. Seen a few villages 'afore, nothing like this. Should keep me busy awhile. Dunno about changing the world and all, though."

"There's always the need to rest, but there's a difference between needing rest and turning into a potato." Telamon chuckles. "Even I find things to do when I'm not out and about. Gardening, for example. There's something to be said for simple work that has a clear result."

Bryn jabs a thumb back towards the colosseum. "Found a little of that. Practice hittin and not gettin hit. Simple. Clear. Relaxing. Heard there's an Angorite place here, too. Planning to try that next. If I get tired, there's still the view." Another tusky grin.

Telamon nods. "The Angorite temple is definitely the place for that sort of thing." He smiles. "A bit more work than I prefer, to be honest, but I'll not look down my nose at anyone else seeking it." He idly flexes his fingertips. "If you're ever curious about what the magical version of a practice workout looks like, I recommend the Proving Grounds. Because even wizards have to make sure the fireball goes off correctly."

Once more the curious caterpillar brows raise. "That so? Don't know no wizards around here, save you, maybe. But I'll remember that. Maybe take a look when I get back from this Guild work."

She points up ahead at the tavern and bath house. "Before that, need to get the sand off. And try out the bath place I heard about. Sounds easier than the river and don't have to wait for the rain!" A brief deep laugh follows.

Telamon shrugs. "They're like anyone else. They have to eat and sleep too." A pause. "Well, most of them do." He happily waves Bryn off. "Go get cleaned up, and have a drink. I've got work to do -- maybe if we run into each other again, I can explain it a little better. And if you need help, well... my place is over in the University district. You'll know it by the greenhouse I put up in the back." He offers the oruch a smile. "Take care, and have a good evening!"

Bryn gives Telamon a farewell slap on the shoulder. "Have fun, don't get in too much trouble. Hope ya found what ya needed." She then veers off for the TarRaCe and its services. She was told they wash clothes, too, even!