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[Reaver Riatal]

29th of Winter, Afternoon, 512 AV

A tall figure clad in a red coat stood clear over the crowd at six feet and six inches. Long strides of the tall and rather thin man brought him over several cobblestones. Dark locks flopped about his head, too long to be short and too short to be long. Intelligent sharp blue eyes gazed out at the world as the young man took in his surroundings. Reaver wondered through the streets of Zeltiva he shuddered gently in the cold. With little better to do in the city other than either practice djed, eat, sleep, and try to get a job. Reaver often found his feet wandering the streets of Zeltiva trying to figure out what he can do. And more often than not for most part of the day as well. As he racked his mind trying to find something to do he took a black leather gloved hand and put it into his pockets. Rummaging around he felt the only and few things he had on his person. He still had quite a few pieces of parchment left and his jar of ink and his quill. Perhaps he could try some more glyphing in the only location he seemed able to find in this fun little city. With that in mind he closed his eyes and let his feet wonder randomly. As the chimes past, and bumping into a number of things he opened his eyes. Looking up he had once more found his way to the Kelp Bar. He had no idea how he was able to find only this one spot in the entire city no matter where he was. But he wasn't about to complain about it.

Walking up with his brown boots he opened the door and walked on in smiling his ever pleasant smile. Looking around as he studied the patrons and the shoddy furniture that sat around the bar. With only a shrug he walked to his favorite spot off in the corner, away from some of the more rough patrons. Grabbing a Kelp Beer from the bar on his way over he held it and sat down. Taking pause to make sure his seat wouldn't collapse on him he smiled as he took out his parchment, ink, and quill. Looking at some of his older drawings he studied them. All of them where sigils of focus, not too badly done but they had taken way too long. He looked at the lines and the numerous designs he had put down. Four pointed stars with triangles facing inward and a circle with a cross at the center. A few circles with more triangles pointing inwards. Perhaps he could try coming up with something new then? With a smile on his lips he dipped his quill in the jar of ink and grabbed a piece of parchment. Taking a quick drink of his beer he made a small face at the taste but delighted in the buzz that followed afterwards.

Leaning over his table he began to draw, four circles overlapping only slightly to make a squished square in the middle. Pausing to think he smiled as he he made crosses pointing towards the square. Then in the square he made another circle with small lines pointing inwards. He took pause then blinked realizing he hadn't a clue of how long had passed. Maybe a good ten chimes, he blinked a few times and shrugged as he reveled in his new design. It was great! The best one he had done by far! It wasn't as good as it could be but he had a feeling this would be his new sigil of focus. Quickly he took another piece of parchment and began to put ink to paper again. Drawing the circles, the crosses, the final circle and the many lines pointing towards the center. This time he looked at his own example and managed to shorten the time to about four chimes. He smiled and put the quill down. Blinking he realized he kinda went out of it for a second. Had someone spoken to him just now?

[Siral Avadur]

Siral chuckled to himself, sipping at the stout tankard in his hand. He shifts his weight a bit, gently nudging the soft leather sling back into place. For most, perhaps being ignored is enough of a hint, especially given the venue. Many come to drink away their worries and drown out their problems, and it's a de facto rule not to disturb those men (and women). But this man was different, besides his obvious stature. He had the look of passion that Siral knew quite well, and the curious stranger's oblivious reaction, or rather lack thereof, was exactly what Siral was hoping for. This was a man with a story. "Excuse me, good sir. That is quite an impressive schema you've brought to being. I must admit, I'm intrigued." Siral spoke with swift feet beneath him, this time sitting down and treating himself, pretty arrogantly, to a seat at the man's table. "I do hope I'm not intruding." His voice carried a semblance of genuine concern, but it was all part of the facade. Siral had long since learned the tricks to being a bard, and none more important than learning how to deal with people, especially drunks. "The name is Siral. Bard, minstrel, poet. I'm given many mantles but claim only one. Storyteller. And I must say, your tale seems like it would be quite the interesting one." Siral flashed his unique blend of polite smile and devious smirk, and sat back in the rough wooden chair. His hand subconsciously went to cushion the pouch hidden beneath his cloak, sliding it casually to the side with a solemn deference. He could never be too careful with his flute. Sipping away at his drink, Siral watches the scholar with a fire in his eyes.

[Valo]

The door opened once more and the frosty air outside carried in quite a gentleman indeed. Though perhaps he was too frequent a visitor to this establishment, for the current clientèle to take any real notice of him. A tall man of the most graceful posture and elegant manner. Long red hair crowned his skin of alabaster. Draped casually over his fine clothing, it was impossibly red. The kind of red that flowed from a freshly severed artery on a surgeon's table. And perhaps from the back, this man could have looked much like a lady, clad in gentleman's clothes. Indeed there had been a certain feminine quality about the Inarta. But from the front there was no doubt about it. The ever pleasant expression, the deep set green gems for eyes, for he was Valo, the red haired artist of Zeltiva. Many may wonder what a man of his manner may be doing in an ever so run down establishment like the Kelp Bar, but alcohol bears it intoxicating charm, despite the substance of the client. And that charm was perhaps what brought him here. During the (almost a) year he had lived in this city, the young Inarta seemed to have developed a hard head for the salty liquid, and perhaps a taste for it too. Merely a couple of mugs would do him no harm. He hadn't quite noticed his friend Reaver and the stranger by the table in the corner. And so, with his general polite mannerism, Valo ordered a mug of kelp beer from the bar maid, who seemed thoroughly unimpressed with his eloquence. Then again she seemed never impressed with anything. The warmth of the interior wound it's soft arms around him like a beautiful woman. Had it not been for this warmth and the alcohol and perhaps the prospects of good conversation with willing patrons, he would not come here so frequently.

[Reaver Riatal]

With his attention broken from his drawing he looked up at this new man. His sharp blue eyes looking for something anything. Unfortunately his eyes where dissatisfied with what the gleamed. A man of seeming only ordinary features with nothing to really put him out of the crowd. Utterly ordinary and no real sense of extraordinary, the man's dress even managed to pull him out of view. Sitting back in his seat he figured it be best not to be rude. Raising a leather gloved hand to the man, then gliding it gently to the seat across from him. Mentioning for the man to take a seat. Reaver kept a calm manner about him as his charming spread across his lips. Listening to the man as he spoke, he seemed rather proper, or at least he might be attempting to. But by all means he was doing quite well at it, even this man didn't have intellect. He'd happily converse with the guy, as he already knew. Manners can get you just about anywhere. He listened with intent as the man spoke his name. Reaching over his drawings he took his cup and sipped at the kelp beer.

Setting it down he looked over the man once more. "Hello, good Siral, Storyteller~" He kept his smile charming and lightly tapped on the table. "As far as a tale, I suppose I can indulge you some. Though before you read a book you must hear its title and headline. The tale you seek is called Reaver Riatal, King of Fire." He chuckled lightly at his light humor. He was no longer afraid of using his title here, he had after all learned that djed use was accepted and even practiced in this city. Though more often than not at the University, he was more than sure that those same students would wonder Zeltiva. Surely one student in an old bar, hunched over the table, with quill and ink drawing strange symbols. Okay so maybe he was doing something a little out of the ordinary. But regardless he had used the title he had given himself after his first lesson of reimancy. It was also the first time he had experienced overgiving. His mind snapped into reality as he noticed the door open. Taking a moment to spare his attention he looked to see no other than Valo walk in.

Looking to the man he smiled a little wider. "This schema is really nothing more than a drawing really,a glyph, a sigil of focus. And it should be good, been practicing these things for years. Oh if you'll excuse me a moment." He stood up standing tall once more, his full height and red coat enough to draw attention to him. However he decided to take it a step further by putting a leg on a chair balancing on one foot while another hand reached for the roof. Grabbing hold of a beam he waved frantically at his friend who had just walked into the cold. If he had worn colours that matched his surroundings he could have put on a guise as a beam. Wiggling his other limbs he let out a voice a little louder than the other patrons. "Valo~! My good man! Over here!" Smiling his charming smile he dared not move until his friend saw him. The moment his head was turned even remotely in their direction he smiled brighter. Steadily climbing down from his position to sit once more. "I hope you don't mind a little extra company, I've few friends here and I'd not miss the chance to socialize. Makes the heart all the more warm in these frozen days." He spoke cheerful and bright, the young man seeming to have no real sense of embarrassment from his recent act.