Quest To Catch a Thief

[Reflection]

32nd of Spring - 8th Bell

People milled about the cobbled streets of the city. A dog barked in the distance as Ser Hearthold surveyed the many bodies that move to and fro. It had been a calm morning, so far. Arms were crossed over his midsection as an older woman approached. Now, this wasn’t unusual by any means as he talked with many civilians on a daily basis. What caught appeared to catch him off guard were the words that came from her mouth as she approached.

“Ser, I need your assistance, I was just pinched in me bum and the grouped like a large breasted chicken ready for a heart feast! I gave them a good swift kick in the bum as they took off, hope you don’t mind that. But, I just noticed that the petcher stole me necklace right from round me neck!”

Her skin was flushed red, the heat high in her cheeks, as she fanned herself with her hand. A cap was sat on top of her head hiding most of the curls of hair, the pieces that had escaped were wild around her face. Ser Hearthold’s eyes roved the woman up and down trying to understand what she was telling him.

“Perhaps you’d lost your necklace before the encounter. It could have been a lover teasing or jesting. If you see the person again, then let a guard know at the time and recite what you told them to me.” Waving a hand she was dismissed and he resumed his watch over the area, his back against the wall near the entrance to the White Swan Inn.

Ser Hearthold closed his eyes for a moment. Delicious scents of fresh spring air, the sweet smell of grasses and water from the bay were on the soft breeze. A leg was kicked over the other as his back rested against the wall. It was only a brief tick that he’d closed them and taken a deep breath but that was all it had taken for another person to approach.

This time, the complainer waited until she was questioned, “Are you in need of something?” The woman who’d approached him appeared sopping wet; hair plastered against her head and face and her dress dripped small puddles on the stone around her feet. Her voice was meek, a lot quieter than the boisterous one that had visited just chimes prior.

“Aye, I just had someone dump a bucket of water on my head. A-a whole big bucket of freezing cold water... just dropped on me,” her eyes looked around as though she were still trying to understand what had exactly happened, “I think… I think that they took my coin from my pocket, Ser.”

Brows furrowed and he pushed himself away from the wall, a hand was placed on her shoulder, “Did you see what they looked like?” The shake of her head answered his question rather quickly. She looked at the hands ringing out parts of her gown. “Where did this happen?” He kept his voice soft and tried to sooth the mousy woman. With a point of a nimble finger in the direction from where she’d come, “the Bazaar Ser.” Dark eyes glanced behind her and toward the street that led to the Bazaar. It was time to have a bulletin put up for eyes to stay sharp in that area.

With a few gentle pats on her arm, he dismissed her, letting her know to seek him or another guard if there was one closer by in case she spotted the thief, or whoever she thought might be the thief.

He watched her walk away and then turned on foot in the opposite direction, entering into the White Swan. Pulling open the door Jazmin was spotted at the desk; she greeted him as he walked over. “I am need of your assistance, do you have a quill and paper?” With a nod she turned and began to pull out the requested items, setting them before him. Taking the quill, he scribbled a bulletin as legible as possible.

Notice

There has been mischievous actions and possible thievery in The Bazaar. Anyone with information or willing to gather information bring themselves to Ser Hearthold. Posted at station near the White Swan Inn junctioned betwixt the Nettle District and Dyres District in the Great City of Syliras of Sylira.

- Ser Hearthold
of the Order of Syliras

With a grateful tip of his head in her direction, he handed the inked quill to Jazmine. Shaking the drying paper, he headed for the door. Swift booted feet carried the white haired man toward the inner gates. He spied the rough wooden board and slapped the paper on a rusted nail already tacked. The hole wasn’t spot on and the paper leaned a little to the left when he lifted his hand. After finishing he gave a heavy sigh and turned back to began his watch duties anew.

[Numia]

Numia the squire Pycon was having a good day with her patron, Sera Jyness, Sergeant Knight of the Syliran Order. She trotted and skipped alongside her friend with the bobbing of a fiddle and bow in hand. She played around and experimented with tunes, having a good understanding of them through her blessing that allowed even her worst-sounding performances to be tolerable. Her current one was more of a civilized theme, taking a cue from the faint sounds of wind blowing through the masonry. Numia almost always kept her ears open, and she could hear the bustle of the tavern as they drew near.

A bald man burst forth from the door, Numia thought he was a drunkard when he skittered away. Drunkards seem to like music the most, I suppose I’ll play for the tavern. Numia liked to help people with her music, even those who were on the bottom rung of mental stability so-to-speak. Of course, Numia wasn’t sure if she could even get drunk so that wasn’t fair for her to say. It was a rare day of relaxation for Jyness, but she was surprised the lady had chosen a bar of all places - until Numia got closer. The drunkard was a one-off appearance, likely ousted from the establishment apparently. Numia could hear that it was a lot more quiet than her initial perceptions, still bustling but in a more polite manner than what she was thinking of at first.

“I thought I could enjoy a nice dinner.” Jyness said. But then she froze just after entering the inn and turning to look at a wooden board inside, her hand brushing over some parchment and reading it. “Numia, you should check this out.” Numia immediately stopped playing her fiddle, looking up curiously at Jyness and slinging it over her shoulder after clipping the bow to it.

“What’s that?” Numia asked, taken aback by her behavior. She walked to the side, and saw the paper. “Oh, what’s it say?” Jyness had forgotten that the Pycon wasn’t tall enough to read the sign up close. She responded by reading aloud the message.

“There has been mischievous actions and possible thievery in The Bazaar. Anyone with information or willing to gather information bring themselves to Ser Hearthold. Says here he’s posted at station near the White Swan Inn junctioned betwixt the Nettle District and Dyres District in the Great City of Syliras of Sylira.” She finished by tapping the note, looking it over to see if she missed anything. Jyness brought Numia outside for a moment. “I’m going to relax, Sylir knows I need it. You go on and meet Ser Hearthold. Your skills would be useful for this case.” Jyness smiled, and then re-entered the inn without so much as a goodbye.

“Alright, Sera Jyness.” Numia said to the wooden door.

The Pycon was alone now, so she decided to go find the knight station, to figure out where this Ser Hearthold was holed up at. Numia was curious about what was going on, and it Jyness was right - her talents were very useful for catching thieves. She could pick up on gossip and private conversations from a distance away.

[Shimoje]

6th Bell on 32nd of Spring 516 A.V.

Shimoje awoke exhausted and sore from the day before. It was his first time in the bronze woods and he experienced many new things there. Trying to chase down a group of drunkard bandits was not an easy task. He rolled out of his cot in the apartment as usual and started to get dressed. It was not long after that his stomach started to growl, but he wanted to at least take care of himself before he ate. He went to his pack and removed a ration and placed it on the table along with his waterskin, razor, and soap. Placing some water on his hands he wet his face and head and applied some soap. Running his left hand across the top of his head he started to shave the stubble with his razor.

This was a common task for Shimoje, and a habit that he performed on a daily basis. After wiping and rinsing himself off, the now glistening bald headed Shimoje started to eat his meal. It was quiet in his room. Almost too quiet, and the blandness of being alone left him to desire something to do. He sat there for a while thinking and then started to stretch. His body felt like it was tangled so he would do his best to try and relieve some of the soreness. It wasn’t long before his muscles felt accustomed to the soreness after stretching. The day before he had just been healed from a bruising he picked up while trying to spar. It wasn’t long after stretching that the sun began to rise.

“I wonder what today holds for me.” He thought almost solemnly. He knew that it might not be as exciting as it was with the squire Ferrin and the Knight Ser Xervos that he met the day before. However, He knew it was time to purchase some stuff to start off his new life here Syliras. With that note he attached his woodcarver’s toolkit to his waist like usual and packed his waterskin heading out the door of his apartment.

8th Bell on 32nd of Spring 516 A.V.

The fresh air from the morning spring was refreshing. The city not so much. Different smells and scents wafted through the air. Bakers had most likely just finished their morning duties of baking fresh bread, but something seemed off this morning. Some commotion was heard from the distance in the Bazaar as Shimoje went from stall to stall picking up the occasional item that he needed placing it his pack. He was very formal with each of the merchants and was a casual customer. He didn’t necessarily stand out in any way. Well aside from being a scrawny man with a bald head and bright green eyes.

ledgerRations, trail x 2 = 1gm
Hatchet = 6sm
Nails metal x1lb = 5sm
Wood x 1sq/ft = 1gm
Puch, belt = 1gm
Nail hammer = 5sm
Carpenter’s Mallet = 1sm
Belt = 2sm
Total = 4gm 9sm

He wore his new belt and pouch and filled them with the nails and hammer. The rest of the items were in his pack which led to a rather full pack. He thought that was enough for now and went to head back to his apartment after going to go say hi to the kind old lady at the flower stall by the Rearing Stallion. He was worried for her health cause just the day before she was coughing. On the way there he came across a single piece of paper nailed to a board. After reading it he knew that he would hate to have his stolen. Shimoje lived an honest life, and even though it was harsh it had never crossed his mind to steal from others. “Why would a person do such a thing?” he thought to himself. He had just handled the business with the knights the day before and now this? “I thought the knights were supposed to handle these thing before they got out of control?” he pondered once again.

He noticed that the piece of paper was crooked slightly and decided to help fix it. He pulled out a nail and a hammer and placed a single nail on the bottom of the paper evening it out and hammered it down. He started off slow and then gradually put more pressure into each thrust until it finally was driven in all the way. “A raggedy sign is sure not to attract a lot of people. Perhaps it is more of these drunken bandits, though?” He noted as he walked off to find Ser Hearthold to inform him of what happened the day before and possibly search for this thief. He didn’t mind, besides Shimoje felt obligated to do something.

[Poppy Blackburn]

It was just another day in the live of a squire, and Poppy rose fresh and early, and began to prepare and complete her mandatory morning washing up. It has not been long since the lights of Syna had graced the sky with its presence. She had took a good and hearty breakfast and began to set about her duties for the day. First things first, meeting up with her patron, Ser Ramsey Druval. Half a bell later, she was done with meetings and got her task and assignment given to her. She was to run a mundane errand for him, running along to pass a piece of rolled up parchment rolled up and sealed with a seal of his to Jazmin Collins, one of the two proprietors of the White Swan Inn.

For a message sealed up like that, it must have both private and important, and showed a great deal of trust in his squire. The knight and squire pair haven’t exactly been together for long, and the fact that he trusts her with something important like this was a great sign of trust and respect and something the lass was really happy about. Or maybe she was simply over thinking things and perhaps blowing it out of proportion, and this parchment she held in her hands was nothing more than unusual and the seal was really nothing major, or could it be a test? Somehow to see if she could be a dependable messenger, one that does not pry on his messages to be delivered. Poppy began to mull over the various options that it could be, keeping her mind occupied while she strolled over to the White Swan Inn.

While on the way to inn, the brunette saw a small gathering of people gathering around the rough wooden board where bulletins were usually posted. It had been empty for some time now, and not today. A parchment was found pinned onto the board neatly informing any who saw it about the mischievous actions and possibly thievery in the city. The crowd around here were chattering and gossiping, discussing to one another about who the culprits and victims of these unfortunate incidents could be.

The murmurs and chatters were growing as more passer-bys got their interest piqued by the gathering of the crowd. Those interested were to look for Ser Hearthold, whose station was close enough to her final destination. This would be a great opportunity for the girl to do some good for the people of the city and possibly even gather some recognition within the order although she was but a lowly squire. Leaving the crowd to their gossip, Poppy left them, making her way to the White Swan Inn, opening the doors, the lass looked around for the proprietor and promptly delivered the sealed parchment to its recipient with a polite smile, informing her that it was from her patron, Ser Ramsey Druval. Leaving the inn, she then started to make her way towards the station of Ser Hearthold who would be in the junction between the Nettle and Dyres district.

[Reflection]

He stood waiting next to the Inn, just having posted the request for assistance. It didn’t take long for someone to arrive after. A small, nimble pycon approached, he dropped his gaze. “I assume you’re here because of my posting. As noted, there was information passed onto me that there may have been someone causing problems-” his words were cut short as two others approached. A shorter man than he with a bald head and another that he knew very vaguely of, one the Knight’s new squires. Waiting for a tick, his eyes scanned the crowd and then landed back to the group before him. Looking first to the pycon and then to the others that had joined. Clearing his throat, he began again, “Someone has been pulling pranks within the Bazaar. There are suspicions that they may be stealing, but no one has seen their face and couldn't give a good description. Go to the Bazaar and gather any information that you can, if you catch the thief, you’ll need to bring them to me. If possible, bring any goods that may have been stolen.”

If the group took the directions and headed to the Bazaar, they would be greeted with several smiling faces peddling their wares. The light within the lower tier was cast from the flickering walls sconces hanging every few feet trying to illuminate the areas. Vendors had candles littered throughout the stalls to try and bring eyes toward their merchandise. The cacophony of calling, chatter and laughter could be heard bouncing off the stone walls, creating the illusion of dense crowds. Rows of rented stalls lined the walls and some also had tables set up in the center breaking the area into different sections.

To the left, a young man held a simply decorated vase, the stall behind him filled with ceramics of similar nature. An empty stall separated him and a white-haired and toothy grinning woman as she waved her arms toward the passersby, trying to entice them to purchase her goods. Further down in the cheaper area where the smallest corner stall sat was another woman, slightly younger than the first. Her meek smile was greeting those who approached to check out the leather pieces laid out. While she was friendly enough, her eyes never fully met another's. A few other vendors were on the far wall, an old man with laugh wrinkles fanning out from the corner of his eyes and a chesty blonde selling jewelry in the next area. In the center stall, after having entered through the large arching entrance would be littered with lit candles. Most of the glow on the end of the room were cast from this one area, as the stall itself was selling candles and using some as a display.

As the trio came downstairs, they would see Jerom sitting quietly at the table closest to the entrance. He’d call from the chair he was lounging in and greet them, just as he did when any person came through, “Lost? Got’s yer information here. Need to sell? Got’s yer information here.” His voice was somewhat monotonous and bored as he watched the group enter.

[Numia]

Numia arrived at Ser Hearthold's position, seeing that the man had a powerful and assuming gaze as it passed over her. Shortly, Numia heard two people approach her from behind soon after the knight had began to speak. Numia thought he looked kinda funny, but when she looked over her shoulder to gaze at the two approaching Numia saw -another- bald man, two in one day, and a human girl with brunette hair who had the vigor of youth at least somewhat. The two stopped around her to listen to the knight, and she wanted to introduce herself to them but restrained herself when Ser Hearthold began to speak again.

Pranks? Numia had lived in the city of illusions for a large chunk of her life, practically the other half of her childhood - well, she sort of still was a child - and she knew if the man they were hunting was truly a skilled prankster he would be hard to find. Especially a nondescript faceless one. It would be like hunting a needle in a haystack, unless the thief was a fool. Still, Numia didn't like the concept of stealing and she was firmly against it. "Ser, as a squire and bard I will do everything within my power to return the stolen goods to you. But, if I may ask, why did you post that notice to the inn? Why not petition a request to somewhere more official?" Her mind drifted to Alvadas ... a magical place where anything could happen, and to her own magic to change shape and colors which had been taught to her by a Dhani in the Suvan Sea who could do those things and more. Numia kept her mind open, it was possible the thief already knew of Ser Hearthold's request because the information was now public. Or was that intentional? In any case, Numia was most likely going to be satisfied with the answers he provided.

Numia turned to both of the humans around her, exchanging introductions with them. "I am Numia, squire of the order and bard of Rhaus. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Numia spoke firmly, and resolutely to try and exude an aura of confidence despite feeling very shy inside at the moment. Her tiny fiddle bobbed as she began to run at a human's walking pace, making sure the others were ready to go as well before leaving them. "Let us go to the bazaar! I know how to get there." She began to lead the group through the streets, remembering that Jyness had taken her there once before during the night and that she had walked by it when she first arrived in Syliras by sea.

Numia thought her gift of hearing would prove useful, but when she got to the bazaar she was proven horribly wrong. The clattering, banging sound of carts, the hawking of merchants, the laughing of merchants and the loud conversations that escalated in intensity to get above the noises which bounced and bobbed everywhere amongst the tippity-tap cacaphony of dozens of pairs of feet was all too much for her to process. To make matters worse, everything echoed loudly. A place like this was dangerous for a Pycon as well, there was a chance she could get stepped on. "Would you mind carrying me so I can get a better view, Poppy?" Numia asked. When Poppy picked her up, or not, Numia was with the trio as they went through the bazaar in whatever direction the others chose, her senses tingling with the sights and smells despite not being able to tune much out.

The Pycon decided to clear her mind to see if she could better hear something in the throng of people. Tuning out the distractions and trying to eliminate her thoughts, Numia eliminated much of the fuzz in her mind after a few ticks although not all of it. It was enough to focus on individual sounds in the crowd to inspect them. As they walked through the crowd, Numia first heard the sounds of the individual vendors, but as the trio went down some stairs deeper into the bazaar she heard a man peddling information. "There! That man, let's talk to him." Numia looked to Shimoje and Poppy. "I'll play some music to loosen him up while you converse with him."

Numia listened to the man, studying the frequency his body operated at and thinking of a good way to play for him. Numia pulled out her fiddle and set her bow to the string, beginning to play almost immediately and listening to her own tune, adjusting it as necessary until she found the right chords to play. Finding the right ones, she played them in short, quick strokes to encourage generosity from the man. The whip and whistle of her tunes echoed through the bazaar above the rest of the crowd.

[Shimoje]

Questions.

32nd of spring – just after the 8th bell – upon arrival to Ser Hearthold
“Hello good sir! Might you be Ser Hearthold?” Shimoje asked him. He responded with a very nice introduction explaining of how someone had been pulling pranks and possibly stealing items, however there was no real proof. He described that no one had seen the culprit.

Everything seemed so strange. Shimoje had not taken up with such a diverse group before, but somehow he thought that perhaps they might somewhat of a chance that way. People that think in much differently ways all converged on one focus for the better, to find the culprit and hopefully find the items which were stolen. “Might you brief us Ser Hearthold. A report of what we are dealing with will always allow for a better conclusion.” Shimoje stated calmy as questioning further into it “What was stolen? Who exactly was affected, and do you personally think these people have anything in common?” All that he was able to get was that they had to investigate the Bazaar for the information, and if they could bring back any good that may have been stolen.

Upon arrival to the Bazaar:

Shimoje walked along as part of the trio and seemed perplexed in the whole ordeal. None of it made much sense. Why go out of the way to prank people as you take their stuff. Only a person struck with madness would make it so obvious. Either way the investigation was far too short of a reasonable start besides the Bazaar itself. After all, Shimoje was just here himself. It all seemed like a faded memory now. He wasn’t able to remember where he even bought half of the items that remain in his pack.

For a good part of the walk Shimoje remained quiet as to take in everything he could when he could, but he noticed that the other’s in the trio were doing the same and left them to observe the things that he thought perhaps they wouldn’t take notice to. Shimoje was more interested in objects around the Bazaar. If a prankster was to truly pull off the such elaborate schemes to be able to steal thing he or she would have had a way to do it like a set up trap, or perhaps not. The trio had passed by a series of clay and ceramic vases. They seemed to be decently crafted. Nothing there seemed to catch Shimoje’s attention, but he still jested towards the pycon “Relatives of yours?”

As the group continued on through the clutter of the Bazaar they had passed by a shop decorated with leathers with a woman who seemed to show no interest in them, she seemed a bit down and Shimoje had seen a face like that before – not too unrelated from his own as he had just lost his father. Perhaps this woman had a similar thing happen to her? Shimoje took note and then continued on with the group.

Finally, after a chimes had passed the group made it to what seemed a rather strange man who claimed to be selling information. “This is our first chance at a lead.” Shimoje had stated to the others of the group. For some reason the strange pycon started playing a tune that seemed to focus towards the man and explained that Shimoje should question him. Shimoje didn’t understand how the music would help the situation, but he would amuse the pycon for now. With a sly smile he simply stated “Yes, Yes, we are lost good Sir, but surely we aren’t the only. I heard some merchandise might be missing too. Might you help us?” Shimoje left the rest of the questioning to other the rather cute looking female that had accompanied him.

Speech Thoughts

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[Poppy Blackburn]

As Poppy reached the station of Ser Hearthold, she realised that she wasn’t alone when she saw to other individuals present there. There a bald young man and a rodent-looking pycon there as well, and waiting for several ticks, it looked like the three of them were the only ones to respond to the message, despite the large group that had gathered at the notice. Most of the townsfolk reveled in the gossip and chatter of incidents such as this, but when it comes to lending their hand to the cause, few would do sally forth and provide any assistance. Not waiting any longer, the senior knight spoke after clearing his throat, indicating that a prankster was active within the bazaar, and this was no ordinary prankster for this rascal was thieving along with his or her antics as well.

This was highly peculiar for her, as she has never heard of a thieving prankster before. It was usually one or the other, and never ever a combination of the both. The trio of volunteers were to head to the bazaar, and gather as much information about the rascal and hopefully catch the thief and deliver him or her to Ser Hearthold for justice. While her companions queried the knight on questions regarding the incidents, Poppy would add just a single question to the mix, asking if they were certain that it was one person and not two, judging from the fact that no one had laid eyes on the perpetrator.

It could very well end up to be two different people after all, simply working in tandem with each other, with one pranking and the other stealing. It was definitely a possibility that they could be looking at two instead of one. The pycon introduced herself as Numia, a fellow squire, just yet another one of the pycon squires, Poppy could add to the list that she knew of. The trio then made their way to the Bazaar, starting work almost immediately, taking in the surroundings and whatever information they could.

The cacophony of chatters, yells and cries rang through the air, with all sorts of hawkers and merchants selling their wares. Finding anything in this place would definitely not be easy. The trio definitely had their work cut out for them. She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as the bald man let out a witty pycon joke as they passed a pottery stall. Funny guy, that one. The trio then went deeper into the bazaar, down a flight of stairs, until they came across a man sitting at a table near the entrance. Moving forwards from the chair he sat in, he greeted them, informing the small group that his wares lay not in physical items but in the web of information.

He was an information broker. Their pycon companion began stroking out a tune for her instrument, while the bald headed man initiated the conversation. Poppy added on to his, stating her request. “I’ve heard that there were reports of mischief, with hearings of a thief going around the bazaar pranking and thieving from unsuspecting victims. Perchance, do you know if this have happened before and if there have been other similar cases and where?”

[Reflection]

Rocking back on the rear legs of the chair the gruff man eyed the strange group that had approached. Slamming the front legs onto the ground, he watched as the small pycon picked up a fiddle and began to play. It was an interesting yet catchy tune, and he didn’t mind listening to it while concentrating on the questions the others had started to ask.

The first was from the bald man; Jerom roved his eyes over him, and then replied to his question, as such that it was his duty to do, “I’ve not heard of any missing merchandise. But then, that wouldn’t be my area of things now. I could point you toward the merchandise ye might be lookin’ fer?” A large hand with round fat and dirtied fingers came up and began scratching the top of his head, messing up what little hair he had. He turned toward the woman as she again asked of any miss happenings. While there was always the ebb and flow of people and an occasional ruckus, the Knights had been doing a fair job of patrolling the area. However, there was the occasional theft, as that was common to happen where large gatherings of items could be picked.

Jerom heard most conversations as the patrons passed by gabbing to one another, and he could usually get bits of knowledge and information that most people weren’t privy to. Although he’d not heard of thieving recently, he had heard of someone dumping a bucket of water on Josilin. A toothy grin crossed his face as one of the large fingers shook in the direction of the three.

“Now that ye mention it… I’d not hearda no one takin’ stuff, but...I hearda lady talkin bout someone dumpin’ some water on her,” he chuckled, a watery wheeze escaping his lungs that turned into a coughing fit. Once he’d cleared the phlegm, he continued, “‘er name’s Josilin, works at the booth over there. The one with the leather bags and what nots in the back corner. Go down this alley here on the right, take yer first left and she’s right across the walk there.” As he gave the directions, his arm moved very animatedly, pointing and waving it to show a turning of the corner, then flinging it out and then aiming to the far side. With a nod of his head, Jerom confirmed the information and the smile on his face showed he was quite satisfied with having done his job for the day.

NoteMuch thanks for the patience, I'm working on getting back into the swing of things and aim to keep this moving for you all

[Shimoje]

A strange question.

The information broker seemed rather boring to Shimoje, and his weezing and slow manner of talking just annoyed Shimoje. With a yawn and stretch Shimoje’s eyes tightened in the process, only showing the bags under his eyes a bit more. Despite his age Shimoje looked older than what he was, though his ears seemed to perk up at the mention of a woman who sold leathers. “Stupid.” Shimoje uttered underneath his breath. “We could have just gone to the woman first. Now this man knows we are searching for a thief. Furthermore his directions seemed faulty. He told us to go down an alley, when we can just go the way we came from.” He quietly stated as walking away from the man.

Shimoje knew exactly where to go already, well mostly. He weaved himself back from the alley and up the flight of stairs. Walking just slowly enough to show his tired state, and for the other’s to follow. He didn’t really care to pay attention to who was following, and couldn’t discern the sound of them behind him from the ruckus of the busy marketplace. Shimoje had plans the next day, and wanted to be sure that whatever occurred today would come to the end, but regardless he would put forth the effort where he could.

Approaching the leather stall, the bald headed Zeltivian carefully placed his words to the sulking woman. “I heard something. Something interesting. I don’t think you of the sort to go-to the knights for help?” He almost whispered to her as he approached, hoping no one else would hear it.

Shimoje, amongst his stay in Syliras, grew to despise the knights in some aspects. Though, he mostly kept this part to himself. He would often put on an act while in front of squires and knights. The city was far different from what he was used to, and his life aboard the ship had much more freedom than even this city had to offer. Though, he had met some very interesting people. That pycon bard being one of them. Looking back Shimoje wondered to himself where the pycon was.

He let out a shrug and frankly didn’t care too much, he still had a sense of duty to find out what has been going on. Mostly, Shimoje admired the prankster to a point, and should he be brave enough might enjoy doing the same – if he was only a bit more lively he would attempt it. Shimoje had a fine line between good and evil, and generally would respect the law, but not always adhere to it. He would do what he needed to do to get what he needed, but seeing as how he had no need to do anything to break the laws in Syliras he simply attempted to find information and research during his stay here in Syliras.

Shimoje stood by the woman and took a few steps back after whispering to her, and pretended to peruse her wares.

Speech Thoughts

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