4th Winter 512
The Serpent's Elixer: Mid-morning- Close to the 13th Bell
It was neither hot nor cold, the air still, pleasant in comparison to the summer heat that held onto the land. The damp and that held onto Ahnatep in the night had been swallowed up by the sun, warming the surrounding desert sand and setting it to a warm glow. Comfortable and not at all taxing on the body, a time of year that Corneliun preferred above the other season. There was no need to race for shade and to find a breeze in order to cool. Corneliun rolled his shoulders, ensuring his coat did not roll off his shoulders, his left hand resting on the top of his sword scabbard. His eyes seemed to sharpen as he came close to his destination, his back straightening, a strong stride as he stepped into the Pavilion market.
To many this man would of seen alien to Ahnatep, a foreigner, pale skin, dark haired, a look of a human and one that perhaps had seen very little of the outside world. But then the question of why he dressed like a local would come to mind, was he new to the lands? Far from it, he had lived in these lands for over a decade, and this place was now his home, despite the racism that came with it. Not that stopped him, he had after all adjusted to their ways quickly and without argument, not that it stopped his own personality growing. And so this pale man brushed shoulder to shoulder with locals, his brow knitted, a focused look growing on his face. He had worn it for many days now, unbroken not once relaxing. For those few that knew him would know the reason, those who did not would just presume something weighed upon his mind.
He listened carefully to the words of the merchants, to their words spoken in both Common and Arumenic, two languages that he had grown accustomed to over his youth, before winding his way through. He heard the shouts of wares, of selling the better price, of oils and textiles, and the scuffle of the Jackals as they encroached upon a blatant thief. He paid them no mind, they were doing their duty, and he was going to do his. Corneliun entered the the Serpent's Elixer, paying no mind to the Dhani that found enjoyment in bullying his customers into drinking concoctions. Although again he looked alien in this cramped space, he let them roll off him, not a care in the world in what they thought.
"Sssssso, what issss your dea-"
"Your latest poison," he did not give the bar keep time to finish "Now."
An elixir was placed before him, a dark red liquid, slimy and gelatinous in appearance as well as texture. It was a drink the man was familiar with, the Lash. He paid, and huddled round a low table, mulling over his drink for a moment, before sipping the vile liquid he was far too use to. His face however still winced, a reaction he had yet to stop, but it was for the better- it showed the brewer he was doing his job. He paused, inhaling and raised it slightly before muttering under his breath, "A toast to you old man."