Day 22, Winter of 506 AV
Evening
The Kelp Bar
Evening
The Kelp Bar
Eridanus smiled charmingly at several women who fawned over him, though he had to continually but gently keep their hands off him. It was the typical racial hazard of being an ethaefal. When night came, his unruly mortal seeming turned into the echo of his celestial self. Flawless skin, a surrealistically beautiful visage, and a fae glamor in every action, every movement and every word. It was all natural and unintentional, and the reason why the other mortal races interpreted it as such was due to their feeble minds attempting to grasp the true concept of divinity and infinity - no matter how slight - that existed in the ethaefal.
He was there for a reason, though not for the typical reasons people went to bars for. Instead, he was trying to pick up information about the new batch of merchants who had arrived in Zeltiva recently. Magecrafting was expensive, and so it was better to guarantee a sale rather than to randomly create something. That came in the form of contractual requests, which would at least guarantee the exorbitant costs of the operation even if the customer backed out halfway.
Wejerx had told him to scout for information for anyone interested in high quality enchanted products, for this skill was invaluable to any profession - not just magecrafters. He had strode into the bar with that intention, but somehow found himself surrounded by adoring, if vapid, ladies. Some of them belonged to the families of the merchants though, so he just had to sieve out the brainless gossip and retain the related information.
Suddenly, there was a loud shout and Eridanus found himself being stared at by a brash looking young man surrounded by other tough looking fellows.
"Get your hands off my woman!" That man roared, to which Eridanus shrugged, replying, "Tough if you can't even control your own woman properly."
Glaring at the ethaefal, that man strode forward and grabbed a surprised brunette by the wrist, and she protested, "I'm not yours, Jokan you bloody brute! Let go!"
Unfortunately, her protests went unanswered as the fuming youngster dragged her out of the bar. The rest of the occupants looked on with interest, but soon returned to their drinks and conversation, leaving a dumbfounded ethaefal in its wake.
Do they not even care?
Shaking his head, he stood up abruptly, giving a practiced beaming smile to the remaining fans, "Sorry ladies, gotta keep the peace and all. Conscience and honor, y'know?" The charming act disgusted him, but he knew that he had to keep up the casanova image if he wanted any sort of social standing at all, and social standing meant better access to valuable information.
Striding out of the bar, he scanned the surroundings quickly, recognizing the last of that man's entourage entering an alley nearby, and he sighed, jogging in order to keep up.
He was there for a reason, though not for the typical reasons people went to bars for. Instead, he was trying to pick up information about the new batch of merchants who had arrived in Zeltiva recently. Magecrafting was expensive, and so it was better to guarantee a sale rather than to randomly create something. That came in the form of contractual requests, which would at least guarantee the exorbitant costs of the operation even if the customer backed out halfway.
Wejerx had told him to scout for information for anyone interested in high quality enchanted products, for this skill was invaluable to any profession - not just magecrafters. He had strode into the bar with that intention, but somehow found himself surrounded by adoring, if vapid, ladies. Some of them belonged to the families of the merchants though, so he just had to sieve out the brainless gossip and retain the related information.
Suddenly, there was a loud shout and Eridanus found himself being stared at by a brash looking young man surrounded by other tough looking fellows.
"Get your hands off my woman!" That man roared, to which Eridanus shrugged, replying, "Tough if you can't even control your own woman properly."
Glaring at the ethaefal, that man strode forward and grabbed a surprised brunette by the wrist, and she protested, "I'm not yours, Jokan you bloody brute! Let go!"
Unfortunately, her protests went unanswered as the fuming youngster dragged her out of the bar. The rest of the occupants looked on with interest, but soon returned to their drinks and conversation, leaving a dumbfounded ethaefal in its wake.
Do they not even care?
Shaking his head, he stood up abruptly, giving a practiced beaming smile to the remaining fans, "Sorry ladies, gotta keep the peace and all. Conscience and honor, y'know?" The charming act disgusted him, but he knew that he had to keep up the casanova image if he wanted any sort of social standing at all, and social standing meant better access to valuable information.
Striding out of the bar, he scanned the surroundings quickly, recognizing the last of that man's entourage entering an alley nearby, and he sighed, jogging in order to keep up.