[Residence] Shakah's Home

[Shakah Doviaire]

27, Spring of 510 A.V.

Shakah pulled every one of his belongings out. He hadn't brought much into this small home, but it was all he really had. His mother's sword rested beside him on the table in its scabbard. Clothes were next, a back pack, food, water, damn it all, where was it? He upturned the bag, and the last few things clattered out, and it was nowhere to be seen. "My harmonica..." What was he going to do? He had to think.

He dropped into his chair to think about where he'd placed it. Nothing came to him. He tried again, resting his head on his copper arms. Still nothing. He got up and paced. Nothing again. "Damn it! I can't think without my harmonica!" Looking at the limited money he had, he remembered he needed to get something else. He needed a crafting kit for wood carving. He supposed he could buy a new harmonica while he was at it, but it wouldn't be the same. Or would it? He didn't know, having only had the one in his life. Maybe it was a good sign of his new life. A new instrument. Then he looked at his mizas. Though he might need to get lucky, or barter his way for a new one without spending too much.

[Shakah Doviaire]

27, Spring of 510 A.V.

Shakah had packed up coin, and set out to the streets. He had lived here most of his life, leaving to the desert from time to time for the Chaktawe gatherings with his mother. After being immersed in the culture several times, he'd taken to wearing desert style clothes, even if they were of a human design. Despite it all though, he'd never really gone to the market. He spent varying amounts of time learning things, but never had a reason to go until a few years ago. Even then, he never ventured out for an instrument shop, or for crafting supplies. Usually it was for food. He had no idea where to go.

As he walked along the streets, people who came too close often backed away. It wasn't that he seemed threatening, in fact he was the opposite, it was because there was always a breeze when he got too close to people. Anyone who knew a thing or two about reimancy would quickly notice that it wasn't natural either. It drew unwanted attention to him at times. He'd heard the Sweet Whisper when he was young, and kept going until he'd gone unconscious. When he woke up, there was a relief among his family, however, there was always airflow around him. He almost never touched his magic again for fear of what might happen next time.

As he closed in on the main part of the market, he thought he might need to go to the Old Quarter for some of the shops. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask around, and maybe he could find a merchant willing to barter for some of the stuff he needed.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian had of late been spending quite a bit of his limited free time in the markets pricing reagents for his magecrafting projects. Most of them were just ideas scrawled on parchment, but of late he had a possible project, a chance to make the world a little bit better thanks to his involvement, and he was looking in earnest.

What he needed: a small quartz crystal ball with a single major rutile. What he wanted: to turn it into a blood-compass to help Hrair the strange fisherman find his sister, even if finding his sister meant finding Dira. The blood-compass, he hoped, was only the beginning. He wanted to send Hrair off with all the tools necessary to reclaim his sister, making Hadrian a hero as much as Hrair. In a sense that he could handle.

The air was still that day, not too warm that its stillness was a problem for Hadrian and most Zeltivans, but likely an issue for the fishermen and sailors. Thus part of him was surprised, if not his brain, by the breeze that sent his dark hair shifting before he bumped into a stranger.

"Sorry!" he said reflexively, turning to find out just whom he had bumped into.

[Shakah Doviaire]

Shakah's mind blanked. "U-um... Hi." You're an idiot! He just bumped into you. Don't say hi! "I mean, sorry. Wait. No. Yes. I mean, it's alright." I really can't think right now, can I? Why is such a stupid thing so important to my ability to think? The man before him was tall; taller than he was, and at six feet, Shakah wasn't short. He laughed nervously. "It's partly my fault anyway. I wasn't really watching where I was going. Studying the shops a bit too closely, I think." He shook his head ruefully. "You'd think I'd have learned to be a bit more aware in a market by now." Hey, maybe this guy knows something about where I can find an instrument shop!

[Hadrian]

"No, it's my fault," he assured him. It might have been; it didn't matter. The apology cost him nothing, and there was usually some sort of jostle in the crowd at market. One only had to be sure one didn't lose one's wallet. A surreptitious pat of the hand assured him that he was not now penniless, so he was inclined to be kind about it.

He was rather tall; not freakishly so, but people did comment upon his stature. His shoulders hunched in as he tried, crane-like, to make himself smaller and not cause any more traffic problems. But when he was finished being self-conscious, he noticed that the other man was looking ... something. Nervous?

"Is everything all right?" he asked solicitously.

[Shakah Doviaire]

Shakah thought for a long moment, drawing blanks. He sighed. "I lost my harmonica. It's always been a bit of a focus for me to concentrate with. Now I'm looking for a new one, and I haven't the foggiest idea of where to begin." He paused. "I also need a crafting kit." He stayed a couple of feet away from Hadrian, not wanting him to notice his problem. It tended to make people back off, when they realized the wind that seemed to move around him, even when there was none to be found elsewhere, was a cost of magic. His clothes stirred at the breeze. It was a benefit to be in a port town where wind was common. It meant people didn't ask questions until they noticed it inside.

"Usually I only go to the market for food, so I haven't the faintest idea of where to look," he said with nervous laughter. "So much for growing up here, right?" He must seem a fool, and he knew it. First impressions were the worst for him.

[Hadrian]

"No, no. It is a fairly large city." Hadrian's brow furrowed slightly in thought. Though he had only lived here for three years, he had done a lot of exploring and so he knew where to find most things. It came in handy, as one never knew what might be necessary when magecrafting.

"Well, I know of a luthier down the way. I don't know if he harmonicas, but he might know where to find one. And crafting supplies... well, there's a place on the way to the Master Djenov's. Would you like me to show you the way?"

[Shakah Doviaire]

Shakah nodded. "I mostly used my mother's carving tools for a long time, but now it's time I got my own. Um..." He hesitated. "If it's not too much trouble, the luthier would be the best place to start." He paused. "I really need that harmonica." He needed it more than he could explain. His instrument had become a part of him, and he felt naked without it. Supplies for work could wait. He needed to organize his thoughts first, and that came with music.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian nodded to his strange companion, and they started off down the street. He didn't say anything at first; there was something strange about the young man. They were about of an age, he thought. A native Zeltivan, though, and he looked like he had desert blood. That was passing strange, but the world was a strange place.

He couldn't put his finger on just what it was that was so strange, and decided he would have to work on his auristics skills because this was just ridiculous.

"That," he said, pointing, is a good shop for crafty things. "I'm not sure what your specialty is there, but they have a lot of things. And that up there is Master Djenov's."

He pointed up ahead where a shop had, instead of a sign, an old lute painted brightly and hung.

[Shakah Doviaire]

Shakah nodded. "I learned how to carve from my mother. The Tatsuwaat tend to emphasize art, and it's not impossible to find wood, and it just requires some knives." He smiled and let out a short laugh, keeping some distance between them as they walked. He looked at the lute shop, and knew he was going on a wild goose chase. "This is going to be fun... Last month I was in the desert... Now..." He sighed. "Back to the ways of the city." He paused. "If it's not too much to ask, would you mind waiting here, in case I get run around to somewhere else? Unless you want to join me?"