Open Trader wars?

[Ronan Dugal]

Spring, 6th, Year 513 (afternoon) With an empty stomach growling at him, Ronan set himself on top of the cart, in the driver's seat. He had checked the covering of the goods and made sure that everything was still in place, which it was. Apparently, Avanthal...ians? He still had no idea what to call them. Apparently, the people from Avanthal had some sense of honor and dignity, rather than rob him blind when he wasn't looking. Anyway, back to the cart and the goods. Once Ronan was satisfied with his check up of the cart, he headed out, following the street. Questioning a few people along the road about the best place to sell wares, he soon found the way to the central foreign marketplace of Avanthal. Like any other self respecting city, Avanthal had a bustling and noisy market, just the way Ronan liked it. If it was noisy around you, it meant that things were happening. And when things were happening, people bought stuff, which was always good for business. After a bit of (difficult) maneuvering with the horse and cart, Ronan finally found himself a nice spot on the market. Leaving the guard dog with the cart, the first thing Ronan did was find some food for himself, as his stomach continued to protest about the lack of, well anything, really, in his stomach. Skipping a few local delicacies, Ronan settled himself for a simple take away meal from one of the local shops. He paid the man the 2 silver Mizas and started to move back to his wagon, all the while blowing on the hot food in his hands and making sure he didn't drop it. Elbowing his way to the wagon, Ronan installed himself on the driver seat once again and quickly worked his way through the meal. Simple but, for his empty stomach, very delicious and life saving. Unlike most foreigners in Avanthal, Ronan had no interest in any of the touristy sights, like the frozen waterfall in the middle of the market. After a simple glance, his sightseeing desires were satisfied and the young man started to unpack his goods on top of the wagon. With the physical labor warming him up, Ronan pulled the hood of his oufit back, to cool himself down a little, revealing the raven black hair, tied in a ponytail on the back of his head from where it flowed down his shoulders and upper back.

[Miria]

A miserable start for an otherwise cheery Vantha oversleeping through most of the morning. Smirking slightly remembering the day before the Coolwater pushed her arms out for a long stretch before pivoting her arms and using it's momentum to pull herself out of the comfy bed. Hammocks were starting to grow on the Coolwater as she recalled an episode of her fighting to start the day. It seemed like the hammock was forcing her to stay longer and rest. Which of course was fine on those slow days but today was in fact a market day. The sooner she was off the bed the sooner she was to actually doing something productive that day. "I knew I would feel that in the morning." Rubbing her rump tenderly she made a small note regarding her choice of trainers. Next time she would choose someone to 'work out' with she should consider not the well endowed Akalak that would destroy her. Shrugging slightly Miria reconsidered the thought as she recalled his demeanor throughout their whole session. Polite and wholesome through and through. Perhaps she would meet someone else that was as proper as that Akalak. Maybe, a girl can dream can't she? Arms felt like lead as she stacked arrow upon arrow into her now bustling backpack. The archer also managed to set aside some unfinished arrows to make up for the time she spend oversleeping. Placing them in a separate compartment alongside the extra supplies Miria slowly started up before going off to the market. Though her backpack swelled with her burden Miria eventually sauntered off to the Frozen Falls market after a quick breakfast. Quietly settling in the Coolwater hummed out a small tune as she started fletching a few arrows on the spot before the day started to go underway. Simply applying arrow heads to one end Miria made no extra effort to sell her wares throughout most of the morning. Opening up a small parcel of food she had prepared in the luminary commons Miria watched as a foreign merchant started setting up beside her. Chuckling slightly as the man opted to have his wares set up so close the archer merely humored the notion with a good natured wave in the dark haired man's direction.

[Ronan Dugal]

After shooing the guard dog off the cart, Ronan took off the protective cloth from his cart, revealing the mix of items in it. The cart had items ranging from simple slabs of metal to food to completely crafted weapons. His eye drifted over his cart for a moment before he started to work on it, rearranging things, putting the larger items in the back, leaning against the driver seat, while the small items were in the front of the cart, very visible for all to see. Ronan was keeping himself busy with the rearranging, often stepping back from his cart to make sure everything was visible. Some of the passerbys looked at him as he worked to set up his shop but most of them continued on their way. Both the horse and the dog looked lazily at Ronan as he finished with his setup. Stepping back one last time, Ronan ran his hand through his hair, combing it back against his scalp. As soon as he moved his hand away, the hair sprung up and fell back in front of his eyes. Curious, Ronan looked around and saw the the dark haired woman who had set up shop next to him. She waved at him. Ronan had mixed feelings about the waving woman but his self educated etiquette told him to respond and so he nodded in her direction, a winning, slightly flirty, yet fake, smile on his face. "Good afternoon, miss." He had to admit, the woman was quite pleasing to the eyes. His attention was quickly drawn away from the woman as a man approached him with questions about his wares. "Sir, these goods are straight from Syliras. I, Ronan Dugal, Trader extraordinare, personally guarantee the quality of my wares. I bought from the best craftsmen and women in Syliras and, as such, these goods are guaranteed top quality wares. How can I help you today?" The man asked Ronan some questioned about the goods, where they were from, how long they had been on the road,... Ronan responded to each question with ease, probably with rehearsed responses. The man lost interest or something and he continued with his walk around the market. "Thank you, sir. Have a nice day." Ronan mentally shrugged and repositioned himself. From on top of his cart he looked around at the people passing by, before raising his voice, in good old fashioned Sylirasian merchant street style. "Come and have a look. The best wares, straight from Syliras. The southern craftsmanship you won't find anywhere else in Avanthal. Metals, weapons, dried goods. Looking for a new knife or a set of Sylirasian arrows for your longbow or shortbow? Look no further, they are right here! Come and have a look. Browse through these goods and I guarantee you will find what you're looking for here. Look no further!" Oh yeah, Ronan knew how to talk to get people's attention.

[Miria]

Taking in the tenor of his voice Miria's eyes softened before she went back to fletching. Such a deep voice compared to the usual vantha tones This man was not from the region the Coolwater could at least tell that much. His voice was not quite used to the hard Taldera weather as he later revealed himself as a traveler from the Sylira region. Probably the Syliras itself? Weird how a city named itself after a region. The notion seemed quite arrogant to the archer as she started to quietly hum a soft tune to kept herself entertained. Applying all the arrowheads took less time then the archer thought it would. Now it was for the slightly messy part of putting the feathers and coiling the yard around the shaft. Slight amounts of refuse from Miria's crafting started to clutter the space her cloak provided before until she periodically dealt with the mess. Whether Miria liked it or not she was subjected to the man's advertising to which the archer could only ask small questions to each of his sentences. 'What makes a trader a trader extraordinaire? Of course a fresh face would start off slow. Sometimes wares were not as great as they claim to be. Did he know he had to showcase such quality?' Pursing her lips with a hint of chagrin Miria mentally sighed realizing the slight chance of meeting someone quite as wholesome as the Akalak from yesterday was fading. 'And I was hoping to have a nice slow day relaxing while doing my quaint little trade.' “I think the word your looking for is Syliran” The archer did not move her head as her eyes went to follow the source from the sound, it seemed to be coming from the same man from before Miria noticed. Averting her gaze the Coolwater continued to slowly but surely loop the yarn over the feathers inch by inch before making a tight knot at the end. Just only fifty and some odd arrows left to make. Setting aside her work Miria now started to pay attention to what this Ronan fellow had to say. Though in a way he was a challenger to his passion of archery Miria was not the type to deny others a chance. “I'm looking for a demonstration. Can I find that if I were to look?” Slowly getting up the archer could feel her sore muscles still pulsating painfully as she tried to stand up straight. A deep yawn shook every fiber of her being as she quickly took an interest in what was in the wagon. None of it however she already did not have. Her eyes turning alternating between a slight blue and a lingering orange Miria wondered what Ronan had planned to really get his sales going. Leaning on the cart Miria quietly listen to what else Ronan Dugal had to share. It was not everyday Miria was able to hear stories of another city. Perhaps the man planned to link every piece he had to a story of how it was made, perhaps how popular it was in his city and why the people there loved it. Perhaps the vantha around her were similarly interested in what the man had to say rather then what he had to offer. “You would do much better if you told us about your city and your travels dear trader. Rather, trader extraordinaire” Perhaps the man met Vaspira during her trip to Syliras in the late winter. Winking knowingly at Ronan Miria started off in the other direction counting off each step away from their stall. After stepping away twenty-some times Miria dropped down to the ground before working with the snow around her. After a five or some chimes the Coolwater was content with the small snowmen she made before retreating back to her makeshift stall. Reaching little higher then the height of one's knees Miria's little performers were ready for her little performance. If Ronan was working so hard to get people's attentions the least Miria can do for him is keep them interested. Pointing at a cute little hat next to Ronan's hand Miria asked if she could possibly try it on. Giving him a face before asking how it looked she offered the hat back before withdrawing her hand back. “Want to see a hat trick?”

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan noticed how his form of advertising had gotten the attention of some of the locals, who were standing in a half circle in front of his cart, leaving him some space to work in if needed. He saw a few women looking at his wares and at him and he saw men, their husbands or boyfriends perhaps, or single men. It didn't matter who they were. If Avanthalian women were anything like all the other women he had met, they would be the key to his sales. When a woman wanted something badly enough, their partner usually had to pay for it. Women had a tendency to get what they wanted from their partners, especially when they threatened them with a lack of... certain pleasures. "I'm looking for a demonstration. Can I find that if I were to look?"A voice from the crowd spoke up. Or at least Ronan heard it from the crowd. He looked around, searching for the person who had spoken in such a way. It would give him the perfect sales pitch. A glance around and Ronan noticed that the woman who had been working next to him had joined the circle, leaning on his cart, near his feet. For a moment, he looked at her, silent, curious about her and her beauty and the color of her eyes as it shifted. Then, with a smile down at her, he moved his head to face the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen. I see that these goods have caught your eye. A very wise choice." With a step and a small hop, Ronan landed in the snow in front of the cart. Overly theatrical, he looked at the crowd around him, making sure to keep eye contact with each one of them. He ignored the other woman's remark behind his back about doing much better. What did she know. He turned around to smile at her, once again the winning yet fake smile on his face before turning back to the crowd that would actually buy things from him. Possibly. Go for the one you're not targeting first. Wise words in both seduction and trade, Ronan focused his attempts on the men. "Brave men of Avanthal. I bring to you the steel craft of the Syliran Knights. Everyone has heard of their bravery and courage, of course. But!" He reached behind him for one of the steel battle axes. He figured that northerners like the Avanthalians were more interested in big and strong weapons like these. "Not everyone has heard of the men who make their weapons. I have. And now you have as well." He held out the axe to one of the tougher and more soldier looking men in the circle. "Wouldn't you want to wield the same steel as -the- Syliran Knights, Sir? How about your family? If they need protection, wouldn't you want to wield the quality and type of steel that protects the Syliran Knights from anything and everything they encounter?" It looked like he had the attention of the man now. Setting himself up for the sale of the century, Ronan turned around to reach for the roll of fabric. His eyes met with the lady once more, who was trying on a hat. A hat he had never seen before, actually. She made a face as she posed with the hat and Ronan's body reacted in two ways. One, it told him something between 'Now that's a beauty' and 'You've been alone for quite some time'. Secondly, it warmed up all over, killing some of the cold. He had no idea where the hat came from but the woman offered it back to him. Or at least she did before pulling it back and asking him something. "A hat trick?" Confused, suddenly pushed out of his mental sales spot, Ronan turned his head back to the crowd. He had suddenly lost his momentum with the crowd, due to the confusion. As he turned his eyes shifted over the spot next to his cart, where the woman had been working, making arrows. And then, at a short distance away something that looked like a row of decent sized Pycons made of snow. In that instant it dawned on him. His mind, slowly, put the pieces together. Someone who made arrows would know how to use them and to use them you need something to shoot at. Ronan suddenly found himself back in his mental sales spot, his trader equilibrium restored. "Ladies and gentlemen. Would you like to see a hat trick?" Ronan adopted the interruption as part of the show and, although as confused as Ronan, the crowd nodded and agreed. "It seems like we would love to see a hat trick." He smiled and stepped back, giving the snowy stage over to the lady. As soon as he was sure most of the crowd had lost their interest in him, Ronan's smile turned down and for a moment something flickered over his facial features. A mixture of desire, interest and anger. Then his face was back to the smile. The man was still holding onto the sword. Perhaps he could sell the sword as well. He just hoped that the women liked what he had to say, right after this hat trick lady was done with her trick.

[Miria]

Flicking the hat up it landed in a crumpled mess on the archer's head. "Ta-da!" A smile reached Miria's features as she readjusted the head covering. Hidden for awhile was the audacious mood she was feeling. Miria's eyes divulged her inner thoughts as she slowly scanned the crowd. A light voice welcomed the crowd as the archer explained what she truly met. "For those in the know thank you for your cooperation. Those who do not know though listen up." Leaning over Miria picked up her bow before trying to wake her body up for the following act. Choosing a few arrows from her own pile, Miria looked plaintively at Ronan as if asking a question. Though whatever impulses she might have gotten from him Miria proceeded on with the air of that of a young leader. "In sporting terms a 'hat trick' is actually scoring three times in a row. Usually difficult shots that don't normally happen." Placing her four arrows atop Ronan's cart Miria took the flimsiest arrow of the bunch. Pointing the arrow down towards the snowmen from earlier, Miria mentally grimaced seeing the arrow she made was not in good condition. 'I suppose I can try it without a warm up shot.' Swiveling her arm slowly Miria turned back to the crowd slowly pointing the arrow at them so they could have a closer look. "Now an archer's greatest tool..." Loading the arrow and drawing a bead on the snowmen Miria looked as if she was concentrating hard while she messed with the loaded arrow. "...Is precision. *SNAP* and good equipment." Another good humored chuckle followed as the arrow broke into two pieces. However this was just part of the act. Appearing embarrassed by the blunder Miria shrugged apologetically before quickly reading another arrow. A little under twenty yards Miria thought now seeing the target with the arrow in place. Simple. Firing arrow after arrow in quick succession as soon as the archer released she was already reaching for another arrow on the cart and nocking back the missile. Each shot landing on the heads of the now misshapen snowmen. There was still quite a few of the snowmen left to which Miria looked back to Ronan asking if he understood why. A soft layer of clapping soon followed and Miria's eyes shimmered their usual happy golden hue addressing the people who came to watch. By now it was no secret that Miria could make that shot in her sleep but the Coolwater enjoyed the wonder of some of the newer faces don't usually see this type of performances. Still the archer wanted the approval of some of the savvy customers as her soft golden hue died down to a raging tangerine. "Right. Now mister Ronan. Care to explain how Syliran goods are a step above our own? I'll be happy to test your claim if you wish." Giving the merchant back his spotlight Miria watched with admiration at this merchant's casual charisma.

[Ronan Dugal]

Once again the randomness and the natural playful attitude of the woman confused Ronan. Was she a child? Her actions and speech sounded like she was playing a game, like this was only for her amusement. The woman had broken his rhythm entirely as she drew the attention of the people around Ronan's cart. The only thing that kept the smile on Ronan's face was the man who was stealing holding onto the steel axe. At least that one would sell, Ronan hoped. Ronan watched and observed the woman as she spoke to the crowd. It wasn't the easy attitude she carried towards the talking but the familiarity she portrayed towards the customers that intrigued him. A curious way of doing business. Ronan watched as the woman took one of the arrows and loaded her bow, aiming for the snowmen. With his limited understanding of archery and her skill in it, Ronan couldn't tell if the woman was really good or not. What he could tell, however, was the fact that she looked quite beautiful, a natural female ranger, standing there with her bow drawn. The sudden snap of the arrow caused Ronan to blink in surprise. He had the piece of mind to keep his body under control but his eyes betrayed his sudden surprise. He chuckled with the rest of the crowd. He was quite impressed with her archery as the woman so easily beheaded the little snow pycons she had made. And then she looked at him. The look in her eyes spoke more than words to Ronan. A challenge? Bring it on. Ronan smiled at her, the same practiced, winning, fake smile as always. He brought his hands together, giving a small applause to the woman in front of him. He listened to her spoken challenge as her eye color seemed to shift once more. He had heard about that. Never really believed it, though. Boy, was he wrong. Back in his spotlight, Ronan turned to the people watching. "Ladies and gentlemen. That was quite an impressive show of skill." He motioned with his hand towards the woman with the bow, giving her credit where it was due. "Please, don't misunderstand me. I am not saying that your goods are a step below those of Syliras. I'm merely here to share their wealth and craftsmanship with you." With that, Ronan reached in the cart for one stack of arrows. From her bow, Ronan guessed the shortbow arrows would be best here. "Now, you've seen the arrows. One of them broke during the demonstration. Now, if you're face to face with an opponent, an arrow that breaks might mean your own end, rather than that of the target." A few agreeing nods and grumbles kept Ronan going. Ronan drew one of the arrows from the stack of twenty and showed it to the crowd around them. With the arrow in his hands, Ronan applied slight pressure to it, bending it somewhat. "As you can see, Syliran arrows are sturdy, made from wood that is treated to withstand the elements using different oils and a whole boatload of trade secrets. With those words Ronan drew a chuckle from the crowd as well. "I can guarantee that these arrows will not snap or break when you're under attack. And I've seen on multiple occasions how one of these arrows was enough to put down a deer on the run." Not true, but the crowd didn't know that. Or at least, Ronan hoped they didn't. "I do not have the skill to show you but, if I could borrow the lady and her bow for a moment..." Ronan looked at the woman with the black hair and shifting eyes, placing the ball in her court as he held out the shortbow arrow of Syliran make.

[Miria]

Pouting slightly Miria found herself grudgingly warming up to the trader as he deflected her quiet musing once again. There seemed to be something in the air, something unseen but instead felt. Miria felt it more recently now then ever and it had to do with this Ronan fellow. Did he feel it too perhaps? In any case Miria continued with her sullen mood before finally looking at Ronan eye to eye for the first time. The vantha's eyes were a worried green for a moment while Miria took in the figure before dismissing her earlier muysing and changing back to the upbeat blue she had earlier. "You know you've got dangerous eyes there trader. Don't quite know how I feel about that." Miria said as she reached over and took the arrow. Turning briskly the Coolwater left only a cascade of ebony hair and a fleeing figure for Ronan as she quickly took her spot from before. Pulling the arrow back close to her body she laid it horizontally as she closely inspected the fine Slyiran craft. Twisting her hand back and forth Miria could tell of the decent craftsmanship applied to this particular arrow. From all sides it looked as if it's been smoothed down just right, where all the sides are equally chiseled and the weight and strength of the wood wasn't compromised. Pivoting her hand around even with the slight changes of light that her actions provided showed little blemish on the arrow's condition. 'I need to be able to get it like this one day.' Looking back up she saw the targets before her. "One moment please." Already having drawn the arrow and set her sights on the clump of Pycons Miria simply was not satisfied with making the same shot. No. It had to be an actual challenge something that even she could not guarantee. Parting the group of Vantha behind she started off further in the other direction five steps, ten, fifteen. Fifteen extra paces will do. Around her a buzz was echoing throughout the crowd. Such a far distance? Would she make it? To Miria however they were cheers for her to score this point. Focusing, Miria pushed the crowd's mumbling out of her mind. There was only the soft sound of her breathe and the ever changing winds around her until the loud throom from her bow ripped through the air. "...In my sights." oocLost some of it halfway through. Reworded some of this. Sorry

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan stood and watched as the woman looked at him. He attempted to discern what she was thinking, trying to see through her facial features into the feelings behind them. But without any previous experience with Avanthalians, Ronan had no idea what she was thinking or feeling. The only thing he could say for sure was that her eyes changed hues once again, from a soft, somewhat sad green to sparkling, blue that somehow reminded him of youth and... mischief? He couldn't quite place it. "You know, you've got beautiful eyes. I'm quite sure how I feel about them." Ronan smiled, a slightly more sincere and no less winning smile, as he handed the arrow over to the woman. And then she turned away from him, placed the arrow and pulled the string of the bow, all in one swift and fluid motion. Then she hesitated, or at least it looked like she did from Ronan's point of view. She tested the arrow, looked at it, observed it. Whatever went through her mind, Ronan had no idea. Instead of taking the shot, the woman stopped and waited before speaking. The crowd watched as her aim shifted, slightly up and behind the little snowmen she had made before. Ronan watched, with the same amazement as the people around him, and had almost forgotten that he was here to sell things and not eye a woman shooting arrows. The sound of the bowstring loosening and the arrow shooting off drew the attention of the crowd once more as they all looked at the intended target. Ronan simply looked. He had no idea what the intended target was. The arrow hit, square in the middle of an object about fifteen paces behind where the snow pycon men were lined up. A cheer ran through the crowd, which told Ronan that the arrow hat hit it's intended mark. With a smile, Ronan stepped forward, drawing the attention back to himself. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a Syliran made arrow. Decide for yourself if this craftsmanship is worth it. I can guarantee it does. What I can not guarantee, however, is that your skill with the bow will be able to live up to that of this young lady." This drew a round of laughter from the crowd as Ronan bowed his head ever so slightly, tilting it a little away from the woman with the bow as he stretched one arm out towards her, his palm towards the sky, his fingers pointing at her. The smile on his face showed a happy man, although closer observation showed that his eyes lacked the same happiness. With the crowd applauding the archer woman's skill with the bow and arrow, Ronan stepped back and opened his wares up for the men and women to peruse at will. As they were busy talking and chatting amongst themselves, discussing the pros and cons of his wares, Ronan walked over to the ebony haired woman. "I don't believe we have been introduced. Ronan Dugal, trader extraordinaire." He spoke with a soft voice, his common tongue messing up his basic Vani speech, giving him a terrible accent as he did his best to communicate with the woman in what he assumed was her mother tongue. His hand was hovering in between them, his arm extended for a friendly handshake. At the same time as he spoke, his mind wondered how her hands felt.

[Miria]

A warm feeling welled up inside the archer making a flourish with her short bow before bowing solemnly at her performance. Whether she intended it or not Miria hit a abandoned crate not to far from the small snowmen. Embedding itself deep inside the hollow crate nearly crumpled inwards from the impact. 'A quick prayer to thank Zulrav for guiding my hand is in order' Whilst her bow she quickly spoke a word of thanks to the god of the wind before looking back up. Once again the Coolwater missed her chance to notice the subtle ques of the trader. This one was just going through the motions it seemed. "Landing that shot was not as easy as it looked." Miria's eyes shimmered her usual blue while she addressed the newcomer. "You know the chances of me hitting that were pretty slim. You seem to have good luck though." Raising her eyebrow Miria crossed her arms over her chest looking at him disbelievingly. "We've already exchanged hellos Ronan. A simple wave and you labeled me miss. You may call me that for the moment." Winking knowingly Miria placed her hands atop her head missing the handshake Dugal offered. Miria was too busy looking near Ronan or rather past him. "You've got quite a few request over there dear trader. You can thank me later but I think you should attend to your adoring clients before they get impatient." Kicking off the snow accumulating on her shoes Miria slowly sauntered back to her makeshift stall besides Ronan's cart. Her body longed for whatever rest available and lying down on her cloak that covered a layer of snow suited Miria just fine. "We'll talk later Ronan. For now let me rest. I'm absolutely exhausted to be honest." Closing her eyes a few times Miria lounged lazily in her stall occasionally doing the productive deed. Quite a few people perused her wares and some of the more knowledgeable archer folk shared a laugh with her about snapping the arrow as they quickly spoke to each other in Vani. "What would you rather have me do? I'm too nice of a girl to not give the new guy a chance." Keeping a stolid gaze Miria also slowly worked on the last of her arrow batch. The feathers had to be tied down to the shaft and they weren't going to do it themselves. "So Ronan tell me." Yawning slightly Miria eyes did not deter as the sun started to drop and the snow took on a sepia tone. "What brings you to Avanthal? Sylira is a long ways to go just for trading." No apology was given from her sudden prodding as the Coolwater sighed softly content at the calm, relaxing day. "Slow days like this where your just waiting for the day to end are not the first things on a travelers mind right?" Still wearing the hat from earlier Miria finally relinquished the item back to Ronan. "Was this yours? I'm not quite sure how I got this to be honest."