92nd day of Fall, 520AV
The time for winter's arrival was nearing, and Isaac wondered what most folk of Avanthal wondered every year now...
Will Morwen return?
Disappointing answers arrived in the past, but the thoughts surrounding what was possible for the future became more and more clear as the seasons passed. For Isaac, however, clarity had been a struggle. Especially in form itself.
"You doing okay there, buddy?"
The gruff voice was accompanied by whispers in the background. Many who were in the Gate City Market carried onwards with their business, though there were some who glanced over at the scene. Isaac stood by a booth that displayed a few pieces of artwork, staring intently at one of Morwen's image. She seemed to be dressed in a gown of multicoloured thread, mirroring the lights in the sky. She was looking up, and around her were Dire polar bears. The artist captured her expression in what seemed to Zac as an almost childlike wonder.
As Isaac brooded over the image, his own image flickered. The shopkeeper let out a deep sigh, then beckoned the man who'd spoken to come closer.
"Hey, did you hear me? You can't be loitering around here, you know," said the man as he walked over, nodding acknowledgement to the shopkeeper, which prompted a grunt.
Isaac slowly peeled his gaze off the art and onto the voice that seemed to be directed at towards himself. "I heard you," he answered.
Zac's tone came out far sadder that he'd anticipated. The tone caught him off guard, and he closed his eyes for a tick. He continued to speak with his eyes closed and his form's colour growing duller. "I was just looking."
"Well, son, you need to move on if you aren't going to buy it. I hear you've been looking for over 2 bells now. Folks are concerned. Especially our shopkeeper, Tom. You've been driving away potential customers with your intensity over here. So listen, you'll need to move and keep going if you're going to stay in the market. If you don't, I'll have to call for stronger forces. We don't need that."
Isaac kept his eyes closed. "Who are you?" he asked, his arms now crossing over his chest.
"Marus, the manager here," he replied, his own lean arms crossing in an unconscious mirroring. "I also hear you've been coming here to look at this piece almost daily now. Tom's frankly annoyed. Can we work something out over here or what?"
Isaac opened his eyes, the deep cerulean beginning to sparkle. "Work something out? Sure," he paused, glancing back at the painted face of the Goddess. "Think you can bring her back?" Isaac continued to stare at the art as he spoke. "Bring her back, and I'll move on."
"You and everyone else," mumbled Marus, getting an itch out of his eyes before folding his arms again. "Look, buddy, that's a tall order. No can do. Why are you staring at it and not buying the thing? Do you have family that are alive who can buy it for you, keep it in your home?"
Isaac shook his head. "Not buying it. Would never buy it."
The manager's brows kitted together in confusion. "If you buy it, you could have it sitting wherever you want and you could stare at it for as long as you like. There's nothing wrong with being obsessed with art. The trouble here is the customers you're driving away from poor Tom's booth over here in the market. Do you understand?"
Isaac closed his eyes again. "Mr. Manager, I-"
"Just call me Marus. I don't do formalities," he said, interrupting. "What's your name, son? What hold were you from?"
"Iceglaze," he replied. "Isaac Iceglaze."
"Well, Isaac. What you need to learn about negotiation here is that your ask is way too big. Start with something smaller. Let me see what I can do."
Isaac paused to think, continuing to note the colours as he considered his situation.
The time for winter's arrival was nearing, and Isaac wondered what most folk of Avanthal wondered every year now...
Will Morwen return?
Disappointing answers arrived in the past, but the thoughts surrounding what was possible for the future became more and more clear as the seasons passed. For Isaac, however, clarity had been a struggle. Especially in form itself.
"You doing okay there, buddy?"
The gruff voice was accompanied by whispers in the background. Many who were in the Gate City Market carried onwards with their business, though there were some who glanced over at the scene. Isaac stood by a booth that displayed a few pieces of artwork, staring intently at one of Morwen's image. She seemed to be dressed in a gown of multicoloured thread, mirroring the lights in the sky. She was looking up, and around her were Dire polar bears. The artist captured her expression in what seemed to Zac as an almost childlike wonder.
As Isaac brooded over the image, his own image flickered. The shopkeeper let out a deep sigh, then beckoned the man who'd spoken to come closer.
"Hey, did you hear me? You can't be loitering around here, you know," said the man as he walked over, nodding acknowledgement to the shopkeeper, which prompted a grunt.
Isaac slowly peeled his gaze off the art and onto the voice that seemed to be directed at towards himself. "I heard you," he answered.
Zac's tone came out far sadder that he'd anticipated. The tone caught him off guard, and he closed his eyes for a tick. He continued to speak with his eyes closed and his form's colour growing duller. "I was just looking."
"Well, son, you need to move on if you aren't going to buy it. I hear you've been looking for over 2 bells now. Folks are concerned. Especially our shopkeeper, Tom. You've been driving away potential customers with your intensity over here. So listen, you'll need to move and keep going if you're going to stay in the market. If you don't, I'll have to call for stronger forces. We don't need that."
Isaac kept his eyes closed. "Who are you?" he asked, his arms now crossing over his chest.
"Marus, the manager here," he replied, his own lean arms crossing in an unconscious mirroring. "I also hear you've been coming here to look at this piece almost daily now. Tom's frankly annoyed. Can we work something out over here or what?"
Isaac opened his eyes, the deep cerulean beginning to sparkle. "Work something out? Sure," he paused, glancing back at the painted face of the Goddess. "Think you can bring her back?" Isaac continued to stare at the art as he spoke. "Bring her back, and I'll move on."
"You and everyone else," mumbled Marus, getting an itch out of his eyes before folding his arms again. "Look, buddy, that's a tall order. No can do. Why are you staring at it and not buying the thing? Do you have family that are alive who can buy it for you, keep it in your home?"
Isaac shook his head. "Not buying it. Would never buy it."
The manager's brows kitted together in confusion. "If you buy it, you could have it sitting wherever you want and you could stare at it for as long as you like. There's nothing wrong with being obsessed with art. The trouble here is the customers you're driving away from poor Tom's booth over here in the market. Do you understand?"
Isaac closed his eyes again. "Mr. Manager, I-"
"Just call me Marus. I don't do formalities," he said, interrupting. "What's your name, son? What hold were you from?"
"Iceglaze," he replied. "Isaac Iceglaze."
"Well, Isaac. What you need to learn about negotiation here is that your ask is way too big. Start with something smaller. Let me see what I can do."
Isaac paused to think, continuing to note the colours as he considered his situation.
