PM to join Ring around the Ravok, pocket full of Candy

[Hwyn]

Fall, 22nd 517 Av.

The right of freedom. Some have it, most do not. Of course, when the deities play puppet master in there cities then perhaps freedom is just a joke anyways, though blaiming his misfortune in fate hardly accomplished him much either. Shaking his head he wondered when it had become his habit to start each morning with an existential crisis. Getting up and slumping over to his mirror he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, today was supposed to be fun he had a small allowance and some freedom for a day, wasting it on being melancholic was decidedly a poor decision, he was going to smile today even if it was forced.

Brushing his thigh length hair with gusto he began the ever frustrating process of detangling. It had been suggested on multiple occasions he cut it but he couldn’t bring himself too, even if the maintenance got frustrating. Looking over his outfits he frowned he didn’t particularly feel like dressing up, he just wanted to relax today. Hair taken care of he tied it back with a small red ribbon. Eschewing his fancy outfits he pulled a tight black tunic over his head before tightening a belt about his waist. Followed by dark breeches and a small pair of similarly dark leather boots. Looking at his now sullen visage in the mirror he shrugged, his outfit was decidedly ravokian, though the lack of color was a bit disappointing. Furrowing his brow he decided a little makeup wouldn’t hurt however, just enough for a little color. Bringing the Khol to his eyes he highlighted his ruby and mint eyes with black, and put enough rouge on his lips to give them a small pout. He was getting older, his face was thinner than it once was, but at least his face was still smooth and free of scars unlike the rest of his body.

With that he left, small leather bag on his waist hopefully to fill with some treats to share with the little ones upon his return home. Leaving the orphanage he headed for the bazaar he had a whole day to himself. Stepping out he took in a breath of air before looking to the slightly overcast skyline. Another near perfect day in Ravok, though the significance of perfect weather is hard to appreciate when each day has it. Either way he had a couple small goals he figured he would let the rest of the day lead him as was it’s want.

Upon reaching the bazaar he cast his eyes about, looking for something to do, while also reminding himself that he no longer had to or should steal, no matter how much he might want something. He remembered well what happened last time he’d been in this bazaar, and he didn’t want to consider the possibility of a repeat.

Credit to Shimoje, the bestest buddy

[Andral Mydrafi]

Q

Ring around the Ravok, Pocket full of Pickled Fish.

Q

Ah. Morning.
Andral cracked open his eyes, looking at the sunlight streaming through the window.
Andral immediately regretted it, as the sunlight burned itself into his eyes.
Rubbing the sleep, and tears, out of his eyes, he rolled out of bed.

For a little while, he was disoriented by the unfamilliar room he was in.
Where was he? Oh thats right.
He wasn't in the Hermit's cave anymore.
He was in Ravok.

Andral sighed to himself as he pulled on his clothes; a simple white tunic and black pants, with rough leather boots.
He pulled on his brown hooded cloak on top, pausing to look at himself in the mirror. He really needed new clothes, anyone could tell he was an outsider at first glance alone.

He didn't miss the Hermit's Cave much, sleeping soundly in a warm bed in a city was much more comfortable.
Yet, one could do without the awkward glances in his direction every few minutes.

Andral stepped out of his room and down onto the street.
He passed a guard who gave him 'the look', as if wondering if he looked guilty of something.

Oh! Andral was so tempted to shove his probatory citizenship papers in his face.
But that'd probably just get them revoked.
Settling instead for clicking his tongue in dissaproval, Andral made his way to the market, for some breakfast.

Normally people would go down to a tavern to eat, but Andral wanted to be as far away from people as possible. Especially if they are drunk, and particularly aggressive towards outsiders looking like him.
Not to mention, a bar fight might revoke his citizenship papers, right?

Slowly the relative silence of the morning was filled with the slight bustling of stall merchants as they readied their wares for the day.
Fruits, meats and other small items lined the stalls. Andral practically watered at the mouth.

Andral wanted something he could eat quickly, and eyed a jar of pickled fish, not knowing what it is.
Looked like a jar of floating....something suspended in greenish liquid.

'How much for the- uh...this' Andral pointed at the jar.

The shopkeeper raised 3 fingers.
Andral's stomach grumbled in agreement.
Pulling out 3 mizas, he handed them to the shopkeeper and took one of the jars of pickled fish.
Oof! These things are heavier than they look.

As he turned to go back home, he saw a girl walk into the bazaar, looking around for something to do.
Based on her clothes, probably a Ravokian.

Actually, now that he thinks of it, the children in Ravok never seemed to bother him much. Most of them eyed him curiously from a distance.
Though he still thought they treated him like a strange specimen of an animal.
Nice to look at, but you'd never want to go near them.

This one wasn't a child though, she looked to be in her early teens, or maybe somewhere in the middle.

But hey, he came to Ravok to learn to appreciate society, and part of that was talking to people.

Strolling up to the girl, he stopped in front of her, a safe distance away, afraid that she might turn and run.

'Hey there....I uh.....'
Wait. What was he going to talk to her about?
The fool! He hadn't thought of something to talk about at all!
Agh! Think of something! Uh...
'...could you show me around Ravok? I am rather new here and I dont know my way around very well.'
Aha! Nailed it!

Q