66th of winter, 509 AV
A day after he had met one of the most strange and kind persons he had ever seen, Conor was walking through the streets again. This time, he had a goal however, he wanted to learn all about Syliras. Guided tours, that was something they simply had to invent here, it would be so much easier for the starting adventurers to learn more about their surroundings. But now, Conor was simply strolling about, boldly asking commoners if they had a moment to spare to give him an explanation. Most of them responded rather badly, and some of them even scolded at him. One of them even ran away from him, screaming something like: “I don’t want your diseases, you beggar!” That simple sentence made the citizens form a makeshift quarantine around Conor. It was easier to move through the crowds now, but people avoided him until he was three blocks away from the place of the incident.
This wasn’t going to work, most civilians had a job to go to – and some of them were already busy with it, even though it was damn early. But what else could he do? Maybe he was trying it the wrong way, maybe he needed to be pickier in whom to ask for information. Perhaps he should’ve limited his targets to older and wiser man who would love to tell their stories. Older men who were glad that someone finally wanted to listen to their stories – stories that they had told many times before. But it was too early to meet such men, most of them were still getting out of their cozy beds, complaining about the ache in their joints or grumbling about the cold winter. Indeed, it wasn’t the best season for old folks to leave their heated homes.
But Conor wasn’t going to quit; no, if there was anything that he had learned from his father, it was that persistence led to success. “Excuse me,” he confronted a resident , “Do you have a moment to spare?” The man – a fat one with rosy cheeks and three chins – started to whine instantly, like it was his sole purpose in life. “Do I look like I have time to spare? We can’t all be lazy lay bouts like you!” Now it was Conor’s turn to become infuriated: “Yes, you seem more like the working type. You seem very fit and muscled!” The man looked like he was going to explode any time now, but instead, he just left, mumbling various obscene threats. Conor grinned and returned to his search.