PM to join Lovely Ladies [Ivandra, Isalie, Isolde Seibold]

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Fiftieth of Summer, 513 AV Ninus was having a fine day in Traveler's row. The sun was covered by a thin film of clouds, making the sky warm but not insufferable as it could get during the summertime. No, the temperature was perfect to walk about in a simple shirt and trousers. Traveler's Row was relatively quiet; men and women were out among their business, leaving Ninus to search for clients. He had a particular routine when looking for someone to buy his poisons. His business was referral only, and he met every single client face to face. They would meet him as a beggar and offer him a token; often he had no idea what they looked like, when or if they would appear, or even if someone was coming. The token was often something poisonous. A peach, cherry or other pitted fruit dropped in the cracked ceramic bowl he carried meant they were there for that sort of poison. For more serious clients, a fungus or slime mold would be wrapped carefully (sometimes not so carefully) in leaves and dropped in. For clients who truly wanted him to craft something special, a vial of sand. All easy things to come by, with vastly different meanings. Of course, this also meant innocent passersby dropped coppers or silvers into his bowl. It was a kind gesture and not one that Ninus had the heart to turn away; it also gave him a steady means by which to receive food during lean times. If things were truly desperate, he would dine with the rats. Today he picked out a plain begging spot against a wall and settled down, his bowl at his feet. He had only one thing to fear: knights. Knights did not like the dirty appearance of homeless in their fair city. Some pointedly turned him toward the Housing Authority. Others simply told him to stop what he was doing. Either way, it was an interrupt to his business and vastly annoying. Ninus looked down at his pet as his rear settled on the warm cobblestones. Cricet was a giantess among rats, bigger than most cats with a powerful bite and an intelligent demeanor. She butted her fist-sized head into his hand and settled down for a nap. "My sweet angel of the dust." Ninus crooned affectionately. "I only hope today we receive more seeds than mizas. A poisoner finds his friends in the plants of the land, not of metal dug deep from wounds in the earth." He looked out at the somewhat empty street, content to languish in the warmth. He saw a few rats he knew scuttling along the street. Some paused to touch noses with Cricet, others she played with. Playing usually consisted of both animals raising up on their hind legs and wrestling, which looked rather violent but was harmless. Cricet, due to her size, was an easy victor.

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde felt very conspicuous, almost dirty, as she hurried her way through the streets. The doubts were already a pressure built up in her head, something that had to constantly be pushed and shoved away, taking up her attention when she should have been keeping her eyes peeled, on the lookout for Knights. One of her hands was shoved deep in her leather vest's left-side pocket, curled around a cloth-wrapped object; the other was having a hard time keeping away from the dagger that was tied to her simple belt.

She didn't know quite what was wrong with her, what had come over her in these past few weeks. She always tried to do what was right-- but lately, that trying had turned a lot of her effort to participating in skills that were likely to help her, and just as likely to end up hurting others. Dagger training, starting with Razkar of the Shorn Skulls. That business with practicing Reimancy out in the Woods. And now, after reading a tidbit in a book while scribing at work and becoming macabrely interested... poisons. Even thinking the word made the Nuit's spine tingle unpleasantly, but there it was. Poisons. She must be crazy. Her only solace was that she was interested in poisons made to incapacitate-- not to harm or kill, gods no.

It hadn't helped that it had taken a lot of stuttering to a lot of the more shady-looking people who came through Undeniable Interests to weasel out a place to start looking. Apparently there was a ritual that had to be performed, too, used as a sort of introduction to the person who belonged to said place, and just thinking about what she was doing made the Nuit feel a contrasting mix of ridiculousness and wickedness. Drop a poison ingredient into a particular beggar's bucket to catch his attention, and hopefully earn herself a teacher in the process? But what was she supposed to drop in? The only answer had been the flash of a smile and the mysterious words, "Guess it depends on what you want."

So the Nuit had done some reading. The book she had been scribing for Mr. Ariva had been called, "Poisons: Dandy and Deadly, an Overview". It had not been the most helpful tome, but it had told her the basics of certain poisons to be used, and their effects and base ingredients. A particular one, a tier one, novice sort of concoction that she might easily be able to create if only she had a little practice and the right instruction, had involved some sort of plant called 'Whinnis Root'. What had caught the Nuit's eye had been the location of said root; 'found in forest environments'. Well, if the Bronze Woods just outside of Syliras didn't count as a forest, she didn't know what might. And so the Nuit had read on, figuring out from an artist's rendering what exactly this Whinnis Root might look like, and then on one of her off-days she had gone out and blundered around the Woods until she had finally found it and dug it up. Currently, it was the small bundle wrapped tightly in cloth in her pocket. It was just a root, but carrying it made the Nuit feel more nervous than she usually did, and she kept her hand wrapped around it at all times. Isolde wasn't certain if she was worried about dropping it and having to snatch it back up, or about purposefully chucking it as far as she could and then running in the opposite direction.

But no, she had to at least try to find this person. She had the root. Now she needed a teacher.

All that had been left to do was go scurrying down the street in what was apparently the right section of the city, trying to match a vague description of the person she sought to the people she saw. The description had been lacking detail almost to the point of being useless. The only thing she had to go off us was "He'll have a pet rat." That had been accompanied by a hearty snicker that she hadn't understood, and hadn't particularly cared to.

Rat, rat, rat. How was a rat to help her? There must be a lot of rats around in this part of the city, and how was she to know if one was a person's pet or just another creature squirming and flitting across the cobblestones? Certainly she needed more information... She felt weird peering into each beggar's face, searching near them for a rat and a bucket or bowl to drop a well-wrapped root into. Gods, this was too strange. She needed more information. There was no way she would find the right--

Person.
Oh gods, was that a rat or some other animal, simply deformed --or maybe even bred-- to look like one?
But no, it was most definitely a rat, and it was the biggest rat the Nuit had ever seen. Its furry presence was such that Isolde had a hard time checking out the man sitting slumped next to the beast... and perhaps that was the point. She dragged her eyes away from the creature, searching the ground-- and there was a simple bowl. Every once and a while a person would lean down to toss in a copper Miza or two... though the man sitting next to it didn't really seem too interested in their money, and if he reacted at all it was to look vaguely bored or impatient with their charity. That had to be the man, right?

Trying her best not to just spin about and go bolting away, the Nuit approached. Her hand leapt to her dagger and she had to force it off, thinking the man wouldn't like to be threatened, and no matter that she was absolutely terrible at using the damned thing, still. Her left hand withdrew from her pocket, and nonchalantly as she could she walked towards him, clutching the root in clammy fingers, not knowing if she would dare --or even if it was the right root, gods she hoped so. And then she was standing next to him, and his rat was peering up at her and Isolde tried to think that it wouldn't bite her-- or try to eat her. Suddenly her fingers uncurled and the root dropped, thunk, into the bowl, and she said, voice lowered and scratching in her throat, "H-Hey... uh. H-How do you feel about s-some lessons?" She reached into her pocket again and when her hand came back out there was a flash of Mizas, before they disappeared back out of sight. She hoped she wasn't looking too suspicious, that was the point of asking her question without actually saying anything about poisons, and about only flashing the Mizas. She had no experience in this sort of clandestine meeting, but she did have the sense that a girl walking up to a homeless person and showering him in GM would be a very unusual thing to do.

She didn't even know if the man would want her Mizas, or if he was willing to take students, but perhaps --and the Nuit didn't know if this made her hopeful or not-- he would be willing to cooperate, at least for the length of a conversation.

OOCA few things. 1.) Sorry if this wasn't what you were looking for, Ninus. 2.) Macabrely actually is a word, I looked it up, believe me! 3.) The post is kinda long, but hopefully it's not TOO long. ^^'

[Ivandra]

It was an absolutely brilliant day, one that took especially to Ivandra's liking. The sun shined brightly overhead, a ball of fiery orange, burning away the last bits of chilliness that might have remained in spring. Light clouds offered a welcomed shelter, preventing the temperature from soaring out of control as it had the potential to. On free days such as these, Ivandra always preferred to go outside to enjoy the good weather. Her first choice would have been to explore the land surrounding Syliras again, but she knew that if she did, it was likely she'd be gone for several days. And since she'd promised her mother, who was recovering from illness, that she'd be back to check on her by the end of the day, that was out of the question. Ivandra had just passed through the marketplace, which was perhaps one of the busiest parts of Syliras, and now she turned onto a much emptier street. The sudden quietness which she wasn't quite used to almost disturbed her. The Kelvic peered around the street, feeling a sudden prickle in her skin as she spotted a lone man sitting on the cobblestones. He took up the typical look of a beggar; the man appeared weary, definitely not a higher-up knight or anything of the sort. A beggar bowl rested in his hands, and -- what was that curled up at his side? A rat? No, it couldn't be. Sane people didn't allow rats to rest in their laps. But as she drew nearer her suspicions were confirmed. Yes, a rat. She was surprised by how repelled she felt by the sight. As a healer, she'd already been given several patients who had been inflicted disease by those filthy creatures. A shudder ran through her, but even so, she felt interested as to who the man was, and why he would allow a rat to rest on him. He was certainly a curiosity, and with nothing else to do that day, she could do better than just wander around aimlessly. The female approached him slowly, but before she got to him, another one did. H-hey... uh. H-how do you feel about s-some lessons? She was close enough to hear the question asked by the other female. Interest perked up in her immediately, and her strides quickened. [color=#408040]"Lessons, you say?" she asked, as she approached. "What for?"

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

It was one of the few times Isalie had braved entering the city itself in search of food. She could sustain herself well enough from the land outside the city walls, but there was a limit and even she had come in search of something more substantial. Silently, she curses the girl she had met, Wanda, she had said her name was, who took her and fed her. Now that the runaway slave knew what good food was, she craved more.

Leaving her weak horse tied up at one of the stations in the city, Isalie knew the creature would not be stolen, pathetic as he was. Maybe she should find out about some fodder for him... Later. The mizas she had stolen would not get her very far, and Shadow could survive on the grass he was eating.

So far the young woman had not worked up the courage to look for an honourable way to earn money, or to find training in something. She could serve, that was about all she was good for.. But anyone who would employ servants would most likely just get slaves...

What the- She is broken out of her reverie by the sight of a giant rat. A man was next to it, a man who looked to be just as filthy as Isalie did. And where there's enough homeless people, there are sure to be guards and people of authority not far behind.

But despite her fear of any guards, who she made a point of avoiding, coming by, Isalie remains where she is, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall behind her. Two other women, around the same age as Isalie, if she were to make a guess, had just approached him. It was a massive flaw, and one that she was really trying to work on, but Isalie's curiosity always overpowered her sense of self-preservation. She needed to know what was so interesting about this man that he had garnered the attention of the two females...

From their stance, Isalie gets the impression that none of the three people huddled on the side of the road knew each other, which only piqued her curiosity further. so far they had not caught the attention of anyone else among the throng of milling people in the city, who continued to go about their daily business. Tilting her head to the side, she hears the second female ask the first something about a lesson.

The women were going to learn something? From a homeless guy? The ex slave knew that she had no reason to be so judgemental of others, being homeless herself, with knowledge that she could possibly pass on to others, but her eyes still widened incredulously. This should definitely be interesting..

She carefully weaves herself through the constantly moving streams of people heading either way down the road. Though she makes no particular effort to conceal herself for the three people she had been watching, the young woman does not directly approach them, or announce her presence by addressing them. For now she just wanted to watch.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus eyed the root that was dropped into his bowl, but this woman didn't seem to know how things worked. He picked it up with slender fingers and unwrapped it, gently picking open the cloth and eyeing it. Whinnis root, he knew it. But...he frowned and touched the flesh. It was slowly puckering, drying out in the warm weather. Had this girl not thought to wet the cloth she bound the root in, to give the poor appendage something to nourish itself with? The plant was dying, and he would have to use it very, very soon for it to be useful at all. "The dead brings a dying gift. The poor creature you stole this gift from must be bereft, that it was severed with a cold blade and cruel hands. Must you have left it to die, shrieking in silent pain?" he said with disgust to the Nuit. "What lessons is it that thou speakest to me of? The same lessons taught to you by dusty old pages that told you to treat your helpless arboreous brother so? What has come over your stolen tongue, that you speak to me in the open of such things?" Cricet lifted her ears and sniffed at the root, then looked up at the Nuit. She shuffled to stand on her hind legs, stretching out her three foot length to peer closer at Isolde curiously. She knew her master was very unhappy with the way the strange-smelling root had been severed; Cricet knew him to be protective and gentle with his plants. He preferred to cover the injured stump of whatever he delicately cut with wet cloth, so the plant could recover. Ninus looked over the Nuit. It was certainly not how it was done, whomever had told this girl of the strange ritual he used with his clients. When the other woman approached, nervousness began. Lessons? What were these strange women getting at? He stood carefully, scooping the coppers out of his bowl and tucking them in his pocket with the root. If he was going to talk with these women, he would rather do it near somewhere he deemed safe. He would not have the knights creep around a corner and suddenly hear a woman braying about lessons. He gave Cricet a look and the rat climbed up the back of his leg and settled herself across his shoulders. Ninus studied the other woman. A large gnosis on her forehead marked her as a healer. Interesting, that a healer would approach a poisoner. But then again, did she know what he was? The people around them meant that they couldn't speak openly, and Cricet's nip on his ear turned his attention to another woman, watching silently from the crowds. He was starting to feel very uncomfortable on the street indeed. He needed somewhere he could escape from quickly. "Come." he told them, sliding into a darker alleyway. Rats swarmed around his feet, scuttling away from the other two. Ninus seemed completely undisturbed by them, stepping delicately over and around the black bodies. When he had gone deep enough into the walled crevice to feel safe, he turned to them. "What are the lessons you speak of?" he asked them. "What foolish creature told you?"

[Isolde Seibold]

The appearance of the other young woman made the Nuit feel quite nervous, but at least she didn't have to answer the girl's question-- because the beggar started speaking. As soon as he did, Isolde wished he hadn't. The urge to leave grew stronger. Apparently she had delivered a sub-par specimen-- though really, she was just lucky she had gotten the right plant at all. The book had said nothing of the care of the plant itself, so she hadn't thought about it--

On top of that, he knew she was a Nuit, without hardly having looked at her, and that was not okay. Still, it looked like he genuinely felt bad about the plant she had unwittingly mistreated... and in return, the Nuit wondered if she was supposed to feel bad. Regardless if she was supposed to or not, she found that she did, which was absolutely absurd for a person who had grown up tending the fields. What did this fellow eat if he was friends to animals --or perhaps it was just rats-- and a plant-lover, as well? Perhaps nothing; he certainly looked like he had been lacking a few meals, though he was nowhere near as gaunt as the Nuit herself.

Finally, to his annoyed questions, she stuttered lamely out, "I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't know-- I--" But here she forced herself to a stop, because certainly --since he knew what she was-- he wouldn't believe any apologies she gave. Looking uncomfortable, dull blue eyes glancing up at the other woman --completely missing the third-- before flashing down... and then looking up again, snatching a better look at the marking on the other woman's forehead. Much as she had messed this up, the Nuit was unwilling to speak to answer the man's questions. And if they stayed where they were any longer, the Knights were due to notice...

As if he sensed her thoughts --or perhaps his simply mirrored hers-- he suddenly rose to his feet, the rat beside him scuttling up to his shoulder, and it certainly had to be heavy perched there, nails dug in for a good grip. Isolde didn't know what to think about it. It hadn't bitten her, which was good... but it had also gotten up onto its feet to stare at her, and the odd thing was that the look it had given had been startlingly intelligent. Did being bigger make it smarter? She didn't know anything about rats... though as she followed the man into the dark alley --which was a bad idea but what else could she do?-- she made it a point to step around the other ones that eerily followed, trying to keep from shuddering and flinching when one scurried with swift paws over her booted foot. These ones weren't attacking her either, and really didn't seem interested in her at all, besides a few initial twitches of their whiskers in her direction... so she could probably deal with their presence for now, especially since she had already insulted the man once --or twice, was she already up that high?-- and wasn't willing to do it again.

Equally strange was the thought that her doubts had faded as the man's irritation had risen. Perhaps she was too busy worrying about making up for her unintended fumble than about getting caught, or the questionable morality of the situation in which she had placed herself.

"What are the lessons you speak of? What foolish creature told you?"

The Nuit glanced at the others --who apparently didn't have a clue what was going on, and had followed regardless-- and then cleared her throat and said apologetically, yes she had really messed this up hadn't she?-- "A man. A-At the shop called Undeniable Interests. He-- well, I-- He didn't really say much, I had to t-try to figure out th-the rest on my o-own but... what he d-did say was that th-there was a man who m-might... be w-willing to teach i-in this area of the c-city... He didn't give a n-name f-for you or even a valid description... he was very v-vague. I h-honestly w-wouldn't have r-recognized you i-if it w-wasn't for... well, for your rat, there." She peered nervously at the rat, and an odd thought struck her: that the creature might be able to understand what she was saying. But no, it wouldn't be that smart, would it?

[Ivandra]

Even though Ivandra had already spoken, she didn't head right up to them; rather, she stopped when she was several feet away, safely keeping her distance. She didn't feel quite so comfortable with the way the beggar looked the other woman over, or the way he spoke to her with disgust clear in his tone. With the distance she kept, it would enable her both to listen in on the conversation while also giving her some leeway for escape if she needed. She watched, somewhat confused, as the beggar took the root in his hands, then confronted the woman with it. Ivandra gazed at her, surprised at her response. She spoke in such a weak manner, stumbling over her own words, and obviously thought herself as subordinate to the man. Why was that, though? What was so special about this man that this woman would be so... afraid of him, even? She knew that if there were any beggar speaking to her in such a way, she wouldn't have taken the harsh words without delivering some stinging ones herself first. She glanced up from the scene unfolding in front of her for a moment, eyes traveling around the street. Almost immediately they landed on yet another woman, who also appeared to be watching the same thing she was. An amused smile formed on her face for a few moments before disappearing again. The two were such attention-getters. The Kelvic turned back to the beggar just in time to hear him ask, What has come over your stolen tongue, that you speak to me in the open of such things? There was obviously something secretive going on between the two of them. From what she'd gathered, the woman hadn't been supposed to ask about the lessons. But what lessons could they be, that the man would reprimand the woman in such a way for asking for them in public? And it wasn't like she'd asked for lessons in the middle of a bazaar, either; the street happened to be mostly empty. Suddenly, a new notion hit her. That perhaps this man wasn't who he appeared to be, that he was much more powerful than a mere beggar. That somehow this woman knew his true identity, and he wasn't happy about it. It all seemed like a type of mystery to her, and she wanted to find out the answer to that question. So when he stood up, beckoning for the woman to follow him, she followed as well, still keeping her distance from several feet away. She wasn't quite sure what his reaction would be to that; after all, he hadn't seemed to include her in the conversation. She paused at the entrance of the darkened alleyway, narrowing her eyes at the swarms of rats. He wanted to talk to her in there? But it only took a moment's hesitation before she decided to follow. She'd already followed this far; it would be stupid to turn back. The Kelvic slipped in after them, half-hoping that they would pay her no mind.

[Hope Dawnwhisper]

Isalie locks eyes for a moment with the woman who had noticed her. She glances her up and down, a distant expression, of one looking but not really seeing, passing over her eyes, before turning back to the other two, who had continued their conversation, if it could even be called that. Clearly none of the assembled group knew each other, leaving none of them at a disadvantage, apparently.

But the first girl knew something about the man, which was why she had asked for a lesson from him. Her curiosity was still piqued, and she had decided to follow the scene in front of her through, to see what it would teach her. Despite the fact that it could be against her best interests to do so.

It was unsurprising when the pair finally began to move; the man's words explicitly stated how against public discussions of the topic, whatever the topic was. Pushing herself up off of the wall upon which she had newly rested herself, she begins to follow the swiftly moving pair. Well... she begins to follow the girl who was following the pair. They made an odd parade, the four of them, Isalie thought. The homeless man, the two ladies, and the bedraggled young woman trailing behind. Five, including the rat.

So far, only one of the rest of the party had paid her any attention. Isalie was hardly making an effort to conceal herself from them all, and she assumed they must have noticed her presence; especially the man, with the lengths he seemed to be going to to ensure his conversation was a private one. But she had not yet been acknowledged. If she was honest with herself, this was how Isalie likes it to be, in the shadows, ignored. She shouldn't even be getting herself involved with others... this was foolish beyond belief. But she couldn't help but wonder why no heed had been paid to her, another factor in spurring her on.

She smiles as she imagines the faces of the two women once the man leading them turns down an alleyway. At first sight, it looks like any other in this part of the city: filthy and uninhabitable.

As she steps down into the darkened alley, she notices the swarm of rats, squealing and squeaking; a sound that she had hated for as long as she remembered. Growing up in the company of their kin, however, in the darkest corners of the world, where no well-to-do people would ever be found, Isalie was not frightened of them. They were merely... tolerable.

"Get off..." She hisses as she kicks her feet, shoving the vile creatures away from her. Glancing up and straining her eyes to look in front, she notices how at ease the man seemed to be around these creatures. She supposed it made sense, with his apparent pet, that he would be. She rolls here eyes. Only someone really confident in their abilities and mastery would lead possible students through such a trial. Either it was a show for the women following him, a show of power, or it was his attempt to hide his practices from any unwanted prying eyes or authorities.

Either way, it didn't make Isalie like the man any more. quite the contrary, she felt a growing sense of derision for the man. Was he really that vain that he thought this trip entirely necessary? Apparently so.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus listened to the stuttering Nuit. "Your information begs me speak with the owner of this shop later. A wise man keeps a still tongue about such things, he might find himself denied my affectations." he said, turning his head slightly to look at her as he walked down the alleyway. "If you wish to learn it will cost you. Mistakes I shall not be responsible of, though I may promise if you find yourself at the end through some ill-fated step...I shall bury you and bury you well. But what does a Nuit fear of death? Only that you will find no empty shell to burrow yourself in, my little hermit crab. It is this I am bound to warn you of. A step off the path I carve with my instructions leads to a deep pit of vipers." He moved gracefully, the rats parting before his every step. He moved a bit slowly, to give them enough time to judge his actions and move away from his feet. He mused over the two women following him. The second was merely curious, but as she had entered the alley as well perhaps she was seeking to learn? He turned his head again slightly. "O shadow amongst shadows, pray, why do you tail me so? Has curiosity bitten you, that you would follow the prince of rats and learn more of his trade? If you be but a beggar seeking to profit from a mysterious circumstance, I ask you kindly to turn your back and return from whence you came. This way, there is nothing but knowledge, and no bread to feed a man." he told Ivandra. "But if you wish to learn, my lady, of the ways a plant binds a man's life, you may follow." Suddenly, loud squeaking and yelping came from the mouth of the alleyway behind him. He stopped dead, and Cricet squirmed to look at what was happening. The ambling rats at their feet turned into a tiny stampede. "Stay your footfalls, my ladies." Ninus told the two prospective students, his eyes darkening as he sought the creature that had harmed the rats. He saw a woman, a third, beginning to follow them. "What foul imp seeks to harm that which has bared not tooth or fang?!" he demanded of her, setting down Cricet and gently moving past the healer and the Nuit. He ignored the few rats running away from Isalie, though he didn't step on a single tail or tiny foot. "How dare you harm that which is as peaceful and as curious as a child! Why dost thou plague me and mine with roughshod, cruel feet? What has possessed thee to do such an act? I would no more strike a babe than one of my own! It was curiosity, not the lust of blood or food or madness that bade them follow me. Thou hast offended me deeply. Explain thyself, or turn thine ignorant hide away! One can find a powerful enemy amongst those which thou hast nastily kicked." he snarled at her. He stood still for a moment, a scowl etched on his face, waiting her reply. He only broke eye contact to squat down and look at the few stragglers nervously edging around Isalie. "Thou wilt find rest and peace at mine home. Your brothers know the way. Eat of bread and rest on my bed, but chew not upon the poisonous plants your brethren know to avoid. These are the rules of mine house. Go." he told them, and perhaps because of his tone they fled, though they did not understand him and did not know where to go. Ninus tilted his head to look up at Isalie, awaiting her answer.

[Isolde Seibold]

The Nuit's mind whirled around the man's strange manner of speech, taking her an instant or two longer than usual to comprehend. It reminded her forcefully of the times that Vaughn --and later the Burned Man-- spoke to her in Vani. There was a moment of soft hesitation in her mind, a lingering of the words... before the meaning shifted through, or at least her interpretation, which was not necessarily the same thing. She hoped she wasn't thinking wrong, here-- she already found that she didn't want to displease the man any further, and screwing up because she was making the wrong sense of his words would probably annoy him. He wouldn't want a student too stupid to understand what he was saying.

She didn't like that he kept alluding to her being a Nuit, but a quick glance at the other woman following-- or wait, two of them now, where had that other one come from?-- made it seem at least, that they hadn't yet picked up the many hints about her race that the man kept dropping. My little hermit crab, indeed. That was a new one, but at least he didn't go outright and say it! She'd honestly prefer to be called a hermit crab all day long if it meant that nobody named her for what she really was.

"N-Not the owner of the shop... sir. S-Some other man, p-passing through." Though come to think of it, Mr. Ariva might know of this man and his... abilities. It was hard for the Nuit to guess at what the old man actually did know... but from what she could tell, he was remarkably connected for someone so grumpy all the time. Any piece of information to run through his shop he had soon collected into that wizened head of his, whether it be learned through books, the study of artifacts, or from the spoken word.

But no, she was letting her mind wander. And she really shouldn't be. The man had just said how dangerous this was, after all, going so far to speak of death. Isolde was still trying to figure out what danger he meant, though. Danger from poison-making itself, danger from collecting ingredients, danger from the Knights-- or all of them? Or more, other dangers of which she was not yet aware? Perhaps danger from the teacher, himself? She didn't like the thought of that... but nodded hesitantly at the man, before he turned to talk to the other women. She had to think that learning this would be worth the risks involved. If things went well, as strange as it sounded... her learning to craft poisons might save her life. She liked to think it might save others from harm, too.

And then the third girl did something to a rat, kicked it, the little thing cried out, and the man tread over in a sudden fury, defending the hapless creature. He really, really liked rats... and once more that odd thought flickered through the Nuit when he stooped to speak to some of them, actually speak, and from the way they moved they were listening to him. What the petch? Could all rats understand Common, or just the ones around him? Or perhaps he had created some sort of poison that allowed him to communicate with them directly? But no-- he couldn't-- would that even be possible? The Nuit honestly didn't know, but she felt silly for even thinking it. Regardless, watching his anger, the Nuit thought she could understand his reaction. She wouldn't exactly be the happiest if she saw someone mistreating a bird for no reason. Though she probably wouldn't be brave enough to actually say anything about it.

Not knowing what else to do --glancing down at the large rat that the man had settled next to her and the second woman-- Isolde simply stood where she was and waited for him to return his attention back this way. She briefly considered introducing herself to the other woman, while she was doing nothing-- well, why not? While the man was occupied with the third girl... "H-Hey..." she said, voice growing fluttery and nervous as a rat came hastily over her foot. She crossed her arms, feeling jittery, and said, "I--I don't really know-- are you planning to be a, uh... student? B-But I-I'm Isolde, by any means."