The Corpse and the Man of Clay (Syel)

[Ignotus Everto]

8th of Summer, 512AV It was a strange day for Ignotus. He had just had a rather interesting first experience with a fortune teller, and he had walked out of it both disappointed and confused. The seemingly endless river of people from earlier in the day had slowed down slightly to a relatively manageable stream. At the very least, he wouldn't have to push for a place on the road now. He smiled slightly at that small bit of fortune as he plodded along with the others, scanning the various tents and stalls for what he was looking for. "Powder, powder... My kingdom for a jar of powder..." Being able to pass oneself off as a particularly thin and pale human had its advantages, but to do that without looking like a hooded axe murderer, Ignotus needed powder. He'd seen a meat stall, a fur stall, a tent for sailor's charms, and a man standing next to a barrel selling what Ignotus thought were pickles. Not a single puff of powder in sight, though. At this point, the Nuit was almost growling out of frustration. "I find a seer, I find someone who sells talismans that ward off the evil eye, I find someone who sells the meat of an animal he himself couldn't identify, but gods forbid I find what I'm looking for." He thought irritably to himself as he passed by a potter hawking his wares. Ignotus briefly considered clay dust before taking a good look at the potter, whose clay spattered skin seemed to be equal parts tan and muddy orange. A definite no, then. He sighed as he took a couple steps towards the stall. The constant pressing of people was starting to make him uncomfortable, and he wanted some room to breathe. Or rather, not breathe... The potter was busy haggling with a rather corpulent customer, and didn't pay the little Nuit much mind. Ignotus stood on his toes as he attempted vainly to peer over the crowd's heads, hoping he'd be able to see a sign, the sparkle of a jar, something that would point him to where he wanted to go. He hopped a couple times, quietly cursing his short height.

[Syel]

The lanky Pycon was having quite a good time. A great time, in fact. He leaped nimbly from crate to stall roof to barrel and back to crate through the market, not caring the kind of attention he drew to himself as he did so. Syel was practicing traveling through the city without having to be underfoot all the time, and so far the markets were a fun challenge. He had tried to leap a street once from the rooftops earlier that day, and had only succeeded in being trampled flat after a painful collision with a wall. Not a mistake he would repeat soon. As he continued his simplistic acrobatics, Syel's mind wandered over the events of the past day. He had spent his first day exploring the city, seeing what it had to offer. He had seen many shops, inns, taverns, and homes, but what fascinated him most were the people. So many of them! He had never seen so many different races together in one place, either. He didn't even have names for some of them! Sadly, he couldn't stop any of them in the street to ask about their people because he was too small to catch their eye. Despite his extensive wandering, he had not yet found anything or anyone particularly worth learning about. It was dreadfully dull, as he was sure that seeing these buildings and people day after day would grow tiresome. With a cry of pain, Syel missed his proper landing place and crashed into a pole holding a stall's roof up. The wood forced his soft body to mold around it slightly as he came crashing down, expecting to land roughly on the hard-packed, dirt floor. He was very surprised when he landed in a barrel of soft powder as a shopkeeper exclaimed in surprise ad the large puff of powder Syel's body had thrown up flew in his face. He looked around frantically for a moment before his eyes jerked to the source of the disturbance, Syel. He immediately took the few steps over to Syel and snatched him out of the barrel, scarcely believing his eyes before recalling tales of a race of little clay men that he had heard at taverns. "What are you doing in my powder?" He asked angrily as Syel struggled to regain his bearings after the jarring landing.

[Ignotus Everto]

Ignotus didn't notice the itty bitty shape flying through the air, but he did see the white plume Syel's landing made. He almost skipped out of joy, and immediately made a bee-line for it, pushing more than a couple oblivious shoppers out of the way in his quest for the all-important powder. Thoughts of powder quickly left his mind when he saw what the merchant was holding, however. He simply stared at Syel for a few seconds, trying to take in what he was looking at. It was a man made of clay. A man. Made of clay. Man. Clay. Moving. The thought briefly crossed his mind that it wasn't much stranger than a talking cadaver, but that was different. He had to examine it. The only question was how to stop it from being ground into more merchandise by the merchant. Seeing a way to kill two birds with one stone, Ignotus reached for Syel, smiling apologetically at the salesman. "That would be mine... I'm really sorry, I told him to find powder, and, well... What can I say? He found it!" For no apparent reason, Ignotus' explanation only served to confuse the merchant more. At the same time, Ignotus seemed a perfectly honest and trustworthy fellow to the man. He glanced at Syel, intending to make eye contact, before realizing he wasn't entirely sure what exactly constituted eyes on him. So much for that. Instead, on "he found it," the thought popped into Syel's head, in Syel's voice: "Just play along..." Hopefully the salesman was baffled enough to just listen passively, and the Pycon wasn't already in the middle of a train of thought. "It speaks Common... It speaks... Right?" He thought worriedly to himself. It was probably unwise to keep using magic, but what else could the Nuit do? He chuckled softly as he tried to gently pry the merchant's fingers away from the little clay man. His hands were as cold as ice.

[Syel]

Syel knew he was about to get it. That shopkeeper looked pretty angry about losing a little powder, and Syel couldn't really figure out why. There was a whole lake of the stuff sitting in that barrel! The shopkeeper gave him a little shake, making most of the powder remaining on his body float away in a small cloud, dissipating like smoke from a chimney. Just as Syel was sure the shopkeeper was ready to dash his head against the hard-packed earth, he felt icy hands wrap around the shopkeeper's own, and an apologetic voice say, "That would be mine... I'm really sorry, I told him to find powder, and, well... What can I say? He found it!" What was the man going on about? How was Syel his property? He was about to correct the man on his assumption when the idea occurred to him that he should just play along; he did not even notice that the thought had been implanted in his head by the Nuit, nor would he have been more than passingly curious. For now, he was relieved that he would not be turned into more dirt for the shoppers in the market to tread upon. He stopped struggling and hoped the shopkeeper fell for the ruse. "Well," the innkeeper said sternly as he relinquished control of Syel to the Nuit, whom the Pycon was studying intently. The man had such cold hands, and he appeared tired, the bags under his eyes indicating that he'd had no sleep for quite a while, "It doesn't matter too much. The powder's not too rare to come by. Just make sure your little toy doesn't do it again...and keep it away from me. Damn witchery's no good for anyone." With a sigh of relief, Syel relaxed into the Nuit's grip, disregarding the chilly feeling and the shopkeeper who was awaiting consent from the man regarding his requests. "What luck!" He thought to himself, "If this man hadn't come along right now, I'd probably be sprayed all over the market and covered with footprints."

[Ignotus Everto]

"Oh, of course, of course!" Ignotus said quickly, setting Syel on his shoulder with one hand while vigorously shaking the merchant's with the other. "Won't happen again, and once again; sorry, so very, very sorry... You can forgive us, can't you? Of course you can..." he said as he leaned over and kissed the merchant once on each cheek, taking an empty jar from the counter and dipping it into the barrel. "I promise he won't bother you again and again, really, truly sorry..." And with that, he patted the merchant on the arm, offered him a sharp nod, then turned on his heel and strode back into the crowd. "He won't miss a jar... Will he? Of course he won't... He had a good dozen of them there..." Ignotus now turned his attention the Pycon on his shoulder. He tucked the jar of powder under his arm, picked Syel up again and held him in front of him as someone who's never seen fire before would hold a torch. He asked in an awed whisper. "What are you?" It was safe to assume it spoke Common, as it wasn't startled by a thought in that language. The Nuit glanced nervously over his shoulder to see if the merchant had followed him.

[Syel]

With a quick reply to the powder merchant, the man with cold hands placed Syel on his shoulder as if it were completely natural to him. Thankful for his sense of balance, Syel only wobbled a little before settling himself down on the shoulder, gripping the neck of the man's clothing to keep balance.The Pycon had to admire the man's quick thinking as he shook the merchant's hand and kissed his cheek. Syel did not even notice the smooth motions the man went through to steal the jar of powder until they were heading off into the crowd. Perhaps this man had some things to teach him! He had searched most of the previous day for someone interesting, and he had finally found someone! Syel was getting very excited, since he had never really spoken with a proficient thief, which was what the Pycon assumed the man was from the ease with which he stole the jar. Syel was snatched from both his thoughts and the man's shoulder as he held the Pycon up in front of himself, staring at him in the strangest fashion. "What are you?" He whispered, seeming terribly impressed. For the life of him, Syel couldn't understand why the man acted this way, surely he had seen a Pycon before... Regardless, Syel replied flippantly, "A Pycon, what else'd I be? Can you put me back on your shoulder now? You're holding me tight." He shifted his lanky arms and legs in the man's grip to demonstrate the point, before something caught his eye behind the man. A lightly-armored man was speaking with the merchant Syel had so recently escaped. Unknown to Syel the man was a Wave Guard who had been searching through the market for something personal. The merchant was discussing something with him and gesturing towards where Syel and the man were, and soon the guard turned and began walking towards them, though he did not appear to have spotted the odd pair yet. Syel alerted his newfound friend to this out of common courtesy. After all, one good deed deserves another. "You got somebody following you," Syel warned the man, pointing towards the approaching guard, still oblivious to the pair's position, "Think the merchant caught you."