Subtlety is my speciality [OPEN]

[Shahmat]

12th Spring AV 511

It was difficult, adjusting to this sort of lifestyle. All of the social cues, the subtle hints that passed for laws in Sunberth suddenly meant nothing here. Adjusting was easy enough, particularly if you were as used to reading people as he was, but integrating would be much more difficult.

What was offensive here? How were you supposed to greet peers? What about the law enforcement? These sort of things that came naturally to most people were utterly foreign to him. He felt alien here, out of place. Though strangely, he didn't feel unwanted or unwelcome. The layer of safety that the laws and rules in this city afforded people, the fact that you could reasonably expect to walk down a main street and not be attacked or robbed seemed to numb them. Their concerns were complex, and often more trifling then the denizens of his former home.

Shahmat immediately recognised the potential of a city full of people that didn't watch their every word and move. He couldn't, and would try to run riot here, but to ply his trade would be infinitely more lucrative. People would have a need to subvert the laws, as always, and more-so here because they were written and enforced. The port opened a universe of possibilities to the young man from the wild city. It was as though, when unrestrained, his potential leaked out and meant nothing, but when fit into the rigid barriers of society it focused him, like a sunbeam on to dry timber. The twin fires of chance and opportunity had sparked, and their heat drove his every footstep.

The cool breeze off the sea rolled over the quays, and the clouds loomed grimly on the horizon. Shahmat was making sure to note the tiniest details of the social interactions of the people he met here, how they spoke and stood. Their facial contortions and other, almost invisible and certainly unconscious cues they gave in how they behaved with each other.

He sat on a small bench near one of the piers, watching a ship unload its cargo.

[Sagan]

12th Spring AV 511

"Thanks fer yer 'elp. Come back tomorro' and maybe I can show ya 'round town." The old sailor shook Sagan's hand and proceeded back onto the boat. Sagan didn't mind doing a bit of free labour for the promise of making a few new contacts around Zeltiva. A few hours of unloading cargo would be worth it, even if he only met one worthwhile contact.

Sagan waved to the sailor and began walking down the pier towards town. It was getting dark. He would need to find somewhere to stay for the night, but first he wanted food. He was starving. Days at sea without a full hot meal had taken its toll. Luckily, he enjoyed being out on the ocean, and a little hunger was nothing to worry about... Besides, it wasn't as though money was an issue.

The wood of the pier croaked with each footstep, and the waves crashed against the sides of the structure. Sagan took a deep breath of ocean air and slowed down to rest against the railing of the pier. He closed his eyes leaning over the railing and took another breath. It felt good to be in a new city again. He knew nothing or no one here; everything was foreign. Stepping foot in Zeltiva was like waving the first stroke of paint over a new canvas. New cities were the lifeblood of Sagan; he lived and breathed exploration. Nothing was more exciting than the prospect of mapping out the area and putting a face to a city.

Waves crashed against the pier again and splashed a little at Sagan's feet. He took this as a cue to keep moving. He made his way onto the street towards the lights of town. He made note of the man on a bench. The man had been staring at him as he unloaded cargo earlier.