Sari At The Traders Nook (22nd Late Morningtide)

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Jadmai
Civus
Posts: 1439
Joined: Sun May 11, 2003 7:53 am
Location: Oasis

Sari At The Traders Nook (22nd Late Morningtide)

Post by Jadmai »

A slight mist made all those delicate types from the Maraxiel District raise the hoods on their cloaks and turn away from the direction of the slight rain fall.

The Traders Nook had a pavillion just for this reason, just because the rains fell, does not mean trade needs to stop. Indeed, the slight drizzle did little to stop the bartering of goods that from her vantage point just about thirty paces away from the rectangle of stalls.

No, rain would not come close to stopping the trade, especially on this day. Through the general din there were a few men behind her, seeming to assess the ebb and flow of traffic which was streaming by them coming to and from the Nook.

"Iban, you honestly thought drizzle would cause a slow day--especially this day in the Nook? The Ceasar has died in the night--though he rarely visited the ilse as far I can remember--but these people do not care."

The source of the voice stepped forward and stood along side of Sarai he was just a few paces away, being jostled as Sarai was by moving throngs.

A sidelong glace would show this man to be wearing some fine, tailored black britches. On his torso, a velvet doublet, black and embrodied with a not too extravagant silver design. labled him for what he probably was: one of the minor nobles that inhabited the Maraxiel District of Adzerik.

Shaking his head slightly, he spotted Sarai, making eye contact he did like any Muchislie gentlemen would do, he took off is brimmed leather hat, and nodded to Sarai.

As his eyes caught hers, they seemed to give there own soft smile of there own. His eyes were a soft, pale green, with irises that had a texture of a thin jade. As he finished his nod, an errant bang of his jet black hair fell in front of one his eyes. His thick jet-black wavy hair, with stood the mist just fine, besides a few strands that came to rest on high cheek bones.

With a smile he turned to man who must have been one of his servants, "Well, can we get this shopping done, my warm hearth sounds much more inviting. Let's make a little haste."

The man gave a jerk of his head to his entourage, and waited a bit for them to make sure they followed.

As he watched a few of his men, drudged past Sarai jostling her lightly. This made the minor noble tilt his head, then using his long lean legs like whips he stepped right in front to the two men.

He spoke in a low tone to them, but Sarai could clearly hear him, "You two leave, and I do not want to ever see you again."

At first they thought he was joking, but soon they departed walking dejected past him.

Now the minor-noble turned and walked towards Sarai, he had something balled up in his palm, he stopped in front of her, and outstretched his hand which held her purse, "It seems they have forgotten their honor, manners, and their..." he lowered his voice and his eyes so pale green eyes seem to darken into two stormy green orbs, "and their own...ilk." He said with a smirk, and with his eyes being very playful.

Whichever of the two man who had taken her purse it was a mystery to her, but there was a good chance she might have noticed she felt a bit lighter on one side.

Again taking off his cap, he know offered a small bow this time, "My name is Verdi of the DiTrevigiano family. I am very sorry for what happened." Verdi would never make much of a liar, or at least not when he was being sincere, for his eyes were apologizing more than his words. "Please let me do something to make it to you, lady...?" He left it for her to fill in. "Just name it. Don't like charity? I can arrange business."

An odd noble this one, amazingly down to the ground, what was also amazing was the way that he got her purse back in plain sight effortlessly.
"...war is the last flower on the evil tree."-- Betrand Russel
Sarai Lokeij

Post by Sarai Lokeij »

A hood hid the face of Sarai Lokeij as she looked out across the street, eyes darting back and forth, made almost black by the shadow that fell over her bronzed features. She was watching, and waiting for any opportunity to strike upon some unsuspecting merchant with too much to carry and with thoughts straying from his surroundings. But upon hearing a rich voice behind her, Sarai opened her ears as well, taking in each syllable carefully. It would come from a noble.

As the man moved up beside her, Sarai quickly tallied his clothing and other ornaments as well as taking note of his entourage. A side-long glance was all she needed. Her eyes were trapped however, before they could return to the street, caught in a gentlemanly gaze of radiant jade. She nodded to him slightly, in return, but was slightly entranced by the hold of the noble’s gentle and kindly eyes.

She did not notice when one of the nobleman’s followers, brushed rather brusquely by her, and removed the purse of money from its firm attachment at her waist and beneath her cloak. When the abnormal lightness of her right side finally dawned upon her preoccupied mind, the man had already begun to walk away. She reached towards her lower back where a six inch blade waited to be pulled from its position tucked into her skirt, but the dagger never left that spot, for the noble was advancing towards her once again, her money in hand.

Sarai’s deep brown eyes darted quickly between the man’s face and her purse, resting lightly in his palm. She would not give him the benefit of the doubt, no matter how gentlemanly he was.

The lord’s playful manner was interesting to Sarai as she had never actually spoken to a noble, especially not in the Trader’s Nook…though ideas were always forming steadily behind her dark and steady gaze. She was fully capable of earning her own living, stealing or otherwise gaining enough each day for three square meals and often a room at one inn or another, but her plans of gaining power had not yet been put into action. She saw this as an opportunity to play a role she had been waiting to dive into. The helpless, but pretty, lady in distress.

Upon his introduction, Sarai pulled back the fabric of her hood, shedding light onto her soft face and full lips, allowing the rain to fall gently upon her dark and waving hair. “Sarai, is my name, m’ Lord,” she replied in a delicate voice reminiscent of a whisper. “You’re apology is quite enough, sir, and my gratitude is overwhelming.” She batted her long thick eyelashes once before opening her fathomless eyes wide to stare up at Verdi in awe. “I am most certainly not worthy of your kindness.” She curtsied slowly, her gaze never leaving the noble’s eyes.
Jadmai
Civus
Posts: 1439
Joined: Sun May 11, 2003 7:53 am
Location: Oasis

Post by Jadmai »

Verdi stood before her confident as Sarai introduced herself, and gave a good full nod as she did, however, when she started to say his apology was enough he withdrew his eyes from her and seemed to stair to just over her shoulder as if he grew disinterested suddenly.

It was obvious he was used to being spoken to in such a manner, and he had grown tired of it, the only gesture he made during this manor of speaking was whiping his brow and cheek bones of the mist that fell on them both. Thus, she had achieved her goal, it seemed he was seeing her as a common lady who thought low of herself.

"My lady Sarai, it is a pleasure meeting you. And it is not kindness I showed, but mere justice. I hate to think what you must have gone through in order for you to consider my recent act one of kindness. It was only fair."

"You are a bronze beauty, and should have more confidence. What talents do you possess? Obviously, I have just lost one of my people--this is not a gift, you just happen to be in the right place at the right time. I have some business to attend to at the Nook, if we are on the level then, may at least ask that you accompany me, while you ponder over the offer?"

His were locked with Sarai's the entire time, but they held a blankness in them, they showed nothing, indeed the man's eyes, seemed to just as much of a mystery as his lax demeanor.
"...war is the last flower on the evil tree."-- Betrand Russel
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