Gone to Market [Jygust 30th, MT]

[Rosalie Marcada]

While the bulk of the Citadels finer goods find places in the finer shops and markets of the wealthier districts, the Bower has slowly grown as the open trade market for the more mundane products harvested or imported from the seas. An open plaza in the harbor district itself, the ever-changing market bears merchants of more modest means selling imported grains, flour, ripe produce, and the freshest fish to be found in the Citadel, some of which still wrestle for life upon the rickety carts that only just arrived from the West Mole. Hawkers ply their wares here as well, their rough shouts offering goods either stored in nearby warehouses or, in some cases, still aboard the ships that brought them in.

While the Bower is a buzz of muted activity during the Morning and Tradetides, the activity here tends to die and drift away long before Eveningtide, leaving only a few idle travelers, hawkers, and entertainers to ply their trade for what handouts they might receive. In these marks, the small pubs and alehouses that ring the market are alive with rowdy sailors and dockhands willing to drink away the day's earnings.

Rosalie had stopped humming, instead she was now enjoying the hustle and bustle of the Bower Market, after briefly considering, but then rejecting the thought of going to the Burpin Dragon for a drink. No, she wanted to be out in the open air for now. The sights, the smells. Glad that her small leather pouch had been moved to the inside of her breeches, and secure in her knowledge that her dagger was in her boot and her rapier on her hip, the dressed up politician was enjoying the moment. She didn't need to buy a thing. Just being part of a press of people was fun.

Standing at one of the stands she tried to catch the general conversation of the people. After all she had come to learn as well as enjoy herself.

[Motley]

As Morning dawned, Motley sleepily realized that today was the day he was going to teach his class on music at the newly established Rocky Island Guild, and that he needed some supplies. He dressed himself in his moderately noteworthy patchwork coat, and as he pulled it on, he considered the condition of his boots.

Some new boots wouldn't hurt either...

After pulling his old shoes on, he made his way outside into the morning. He meandered his way through the cobbled streets and down into the market plaza. He bought a sweetbread from a stall, and stood off to the side as he ate, watching the people and waving to an occasional familiar face. When he was finished with breaking his fast, he moved deeper into the market, looking for a cobbler, or a place where he could purchase several sets of Pan's Pipes for the class.

He'd always been comfortable out in the market. It reminded him of his home and the rain swept streets of Roque D'Ancourt. He sighed and stared out at the water, thinking of Angelica and the life he left for these crowded streets.

[Rosalie Marcada]

"Merde" Rosalie cursed softly as she stubbed her toe, her leather boots not protecting her enough from such a mishap. She was clearly not used moving about in such crowds. Usually people made a wide berth for her. She was just finding out the downside of being incognito.

Jumping up and down on one foot, Rosalie sought to take find a space in the crowd where she could hug her toe for a moment, letting the pain pass.

[Motley]

He stared out at the water, lost in reverie until a soft curse of the west found his ears.

Merde? Obviously not from around here...

He turned around to the comical sight of someone hopping on one foot. A lifetime of performing in the streets, coupled with the traveling he had done over the past yahren had given him a fair and decent ability to judge people, but this person before him was something of a surprise and a mystery.

Either that's the most effeminate man I've ever run across, or a woman trying to appear as such.

He looked closer. This person was delicate in stature, petite and her jaw and face had the softer lines of a woman in Motley's estimation. The voice certainly made him tend to lean that way, but that same experience with people that led him this far down this path also cautioned him not to judge, and stick with what he knew versus what he didn't. His mismatched eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Merde. A fine curse, and one not uttered in this city often. I would wager that you are a westerner, and have not been living here very long."

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie stopped hopping, still holding her foot. She laid her eyes upon the ugliest creature that she did ever see and not to mention.. one of the few creatures ever to be smaller than herself so that she actually looked down upon him. At the first flicker she thought he was a dwarf, but not just the lack of beard stopped that thought. He was also of a completely different build.

His brutish features, his bent legs. By right Rosalie should have ignored him but she was utterly fascinated by the human horror that presented itself in a kindly voice.

"Since Samheen last," she defended herself with a little huff as she finally let go of her foot, putting her hands to her hip a defiant pose "Though you are right that I hail from far over the ocean. World's Mouth to be precise." Great, great.. why don't you go announce who you are straight away, she chided herself, therefor adding as a distraction "I am Ricardo, and you are?"

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin navigated through the commotion with the ease of an Adhiel. Although he was deep in thought he kept an eye on the press of people, finding the easiest spots to slip in between.

The mage was dressed in a loose falling white shirt, tight fitting black, leather breeches and a pair of black boots. It was one of the few times that his silver mane was not tied in a tail but flowed loosely over his shoulders down his back. He was thinking about the proposition of Gerard Mackaree, thinking about the benefits and dangers when he heard someone close by mention World's Mouth.

He stopped and someone bumped into him from behind, a muttered curse from the old man who had walked into the Professor. With a polite apology the mage stepped aside, his eyes spotted an unlikely pair. Motley, with whom he had worked developing the little man's innate abilities, was talking to a man who looked like he was totally out of place. "A rapier? A deadly blade if you know how to use it but judging from his stance it's purely ornamental..." He narrowed his eyes for a moment, looking at the Mouthie, feeling there was something off. Something he couldn't quite place.

"Time to find out..." He stepped up to the duo: "Excuse me, good sir, I heard you talking about World's Mouth in passing and I was wondering if you might know the current situation in the city? You see, I lived there once," he nodded to Motley, "Hello, Mister Motley, how are you doing today?"

[Motley]

"Good tide to you Ricardo. I am the Motley."

With a flourish and surprising grace, the ugly little man bowed with practiced ease.

"Ah... World's Mouth. I performed there several times at the Promenade Theatre and the Shrine Gardens. There are some places in that city that are uglier than me, but there are also places that are beauty unrivaled."

Motley looked up at Ricardo.

"My apologies. I am a performer, and I used to travel all over the west a few yahren ago. The Mouth can be a wondrous place. I suppose..."

Motley was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Master Motrice, looking very casual and relaxed.

"Good day to you Master Motrice. I am doing well. I was speaking of World's Mouth with my new acquaintance Ricardo here. Perhaps Ricardo can share some of the information that you are inquiring about."

His mismatched eyes traveled back to Ricardo expectantly.

[Rosalie Marcada]

Amused by this ugly little thing Rosalie made a flamboyant bow, such as her brother would make "Buongiorno, signor Motley. It is good to hear we share a love of things beautiful in the Mouth." To observe there were also ugly things made Rose bite her tongue, being too politely to mention the man's own physique. "What has made you travel to the Citadel, or was that just the way the wind blows? I find it curious that one finds almost more westerners in this city than one does a true imperial citizen."

As if to prove the point they were then interrupted. Rosalie turned to face the man who spoke, only to realize that they had been addressed by an adhiel. Her amber eyes flashed arrogantly as an air of superiority that never had really left her now so clearly surfaced. He was a full head higher than Rosalie, which not many adhiel were. She almost resented the fact she had to look up, having found Motley's lack of height (a full foot lower than she was) rather comforting. "Buongiorno, Signor Motrice. Ricardo Lo Russo, at your service. I would be surprised if you had come out of World's Mouth but recently. The Prodesse moved almost the entire adhiel quarter to Pax Baltashar on orders of the King before our fair city declared its independence."

[Elvin Motricé]

The flash of arrogance did not go by unnoticed but Elvin was accustomed to these looks of Mouthies. Actually, he had come across that particular look even in Kislovan where the situation between Adhiel and Humans was the reverse of the one in World's Mouth. A small smile played around the Professor's lips when he looked back at Ricardo: "You might think that you're better but sooner or later World's Mouth will face the same problems as Kislovan. As a matter of fact, the entire West might go down in a blood red haze."

"Lo Russo?" the silver-haired Adhiel had heard that name before but couldn't quite remember where, "That name sounds familiar... You must excuse me, my mastery of the Human language wasn't as good as it is now during my stay in World's Mouth. Well, let us do this the proper way, shall we?" he made a small bow, "Well met, Signor Lo Russo, Elvin Motricé, Professor at the University of Magic, at your service."

He nodded when Ricardo told him about the Adhiel: "Yes, I know of the relocation of the Adhiel. I was in Pax a few months ago," the sorcerer explained, "I'm not born in World's Mouth. My studies brought me there. I spent two months at the Ghaeran College before certain, ah, unforeseen circumstances during the battle of Brie brought me to the Citadel. My inquiries were solely aimed at trying to find out how the city fares nowadays. There are a lot of rumours flying around," he smiled at Motley, "Though master Motley could probably tell you more about that. He spends much more time in inns then I do," he winked, "professional visits. Bards need to work a lot harder in promoting themselves then a poor mage has to do."

[Motley]

As he watched and listened to the exchange between one of his teachers, and this new acquaintance, Motley's ears perked up like a dogs when he heard Ricardo's surname.

"Signor Lo Russo. I believe I may have met a relative of yours. Last yahren I was journeying back to Dragonskeep after the attack on King's Court and the battles there, I traveled on an airship which was Captained by a Ramius Lo Russo. Is he a relative of yours?"

[Rosalie Marcada]

Rosalie knew it was a mistake the moment it left her mouth. She had been a Lo Russo for so long it was difficult to part with that. She gave a nod and flamboyant bow to the adhiel. The fact he mentioned being a mage made her purse her lips in thought. As always Rose was in desperate need of mages. She would hear this professor out.

"Signor Motrice, your guess is as good as mine. It seems that some confusion has held grip on our fair city, but the dust has settled and there is now a new council once again in full grip of the business." One could take out the girl for a walk, but the Ambassador was still within and feeling fairlyd defensive at that. Her amber eyes narrowed "But tell us Signor Motley what rumours have you caught about the Mouth?"

Rosalie tossed her hair about, a useless gesture since he locks where hidden by a cap "Rame.. Ramius.. He is my cousin. Not just an airship captain, signores, but the Commanding officer of the Condotierre Fleet. Of late he has been stationed in the Empire, after that little business in Aveas."

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin listened to Ricardo with interest and nodded: "Yes, I heard something about a new council. I wonder how the colleges fared," the Professor shrugged and added, speaking more to himself, "Maybe I'll have to visit them in one of the coming days. I haven't been back there in well over a year."

Ricardo's explanation of the name Lo Russo made sense: "That might be where I've heard that name before. Though it seems to me that I've heard that name somewhere else more recently. Here in the Citadel. I'm quite sure I heard someone mention the name Lo Russo at Ulder's wedding."

He realized that he was probably talking about persons Ricardo and Motley didn't know: "My apologies, I sometimes have the tendency to voice my thoughts out loud. Especially when I know I recognize something but can't place it," he looked at Motley, "Yes, master Motley, did you hear something interesting about World's Mouth lately?"

[Motley]

The deformed little man took stock of Ricardo and of his Professor. It seemed information was as valuable as any coin here in the Empire, and that in and of itself was a lesson that Motley understood and vowed to remember.

"Aye, I've heard things. I've done a great deal of performing here in the city over the past few weeks, and I've listening to people talking."

Motley generally thought of most rumor and scuttlebutt as empty and hollow news, it had been his experience that the majority was false and unverified information, but he related what he heard just the same. That he could gather such information out in the taverns, alehouses and winesinks demonstrated to the Professor that he could be valuable to have around, and Motley knew enough to know that proving helpful to a family as powerful as the Lo Russos, was important and made him not only cooperative, but lucrative. Both were assets to the power and wealth driven families of the Mouth, and Motley was not so foolish as to let a good opportunity to create an opportunity for himself to slip by.

"As far as what is being passed along by some of the people here, I've heard that four of the Magisters are dead. There were explosions and riots and Magister Gabrielli and High Justice Octavio had to lock down the city to ensure order. I haven't been in the Mouth for more than two yahren, so I have no way to be certain that any of it is true, but people talk, and I have big ears. Mind you this was passing conversations and the like. These are things overheard, and not sought out by me. I could probably do more were I actually trying."

[Rosalie Marcada]

"My other cousin, perhaps signor Motrice, the sister of Ramius. She's Ambassador to the Mouth and Imperial councilor for Aveas. She married some local last spring," "Ricardo offered airily and with a bit of distance in his tone, waving his hand "We are not very close. She's very busy with.. well.. things."

"A vendetta is an ugly thing, signor Motley," Ricardo commented upon the fools words "No doubt the councillors were very right to close the gates and get some of their legions out to restore order. Might have prevented a bloodbath. The Scillius would run red if they did not." Interesting. So the news of what really happened has not yet spread. It seems the containment efforts are holding.

"I would be interested in anything you hear about the Mouth, signor. I have friends and family there." That was no lie. It would also allow her to test the man's skills as an information trafficker. Spy was such an ugly word. Rosalie preferred avoiding it.

[Elvin Motricé]

Elvin added after Ricardo: "Yes, mister Motley, I would also appreciate any news if you hear it. I have a few close friends from my time there. I would go back myself but seeing the current situation and the... prejudice against Adhiel I don't think it would be wise," the Professor smiled, "I wouldn't want to be forced to blow half their city to smithereens over some racial misunderstanding."

Another smile played around his lips: "Well, standing here isn't quite interesting for a conversation. Would both gentlemen like to go and drink something? I'm quite sure that there are still many interesting stories to be shared..."

[Motley]

"I'm sure a vendetta is an ugly thing, as is all war. I have seen enough blood to last me several lifetimes." He grimaced and swallowed heavily, thinking of Marcus and the Red Storms. "Anyway, I'm afraid what I hear are little more then rumors and tavern gossip. But I shall keep my ears open, and relay anything interesting that comes along."

"I wouldn't want to be forced to blow half their city to smithereens over some racial misunderstanding."

Motley gave the Professor the look a hungry dog gives its master when dinner is served and on the table. In his eyes was the gleam of someday being able to say such things himself, and mean it.

"Nor would we want you to sir."

Surely there are better, more creative ways to use such power...

"Perhaps standing here isn't the wisest choice. I came to the market for a specific purpose, as I'm trying to find a delicate instrument that is rare and special. If you gentlemen would accompany me in it's search, I would be glad to pay for drinks at a place of your choosing."