"The Farmboy and the Big City"

Log Date:
	6/17/00

Log Cast:
	David, Sebastienne, Sarra

Log Intro:
	Enterprising traders have seen the potential of ferrying goods back and 
forth between Haven and the blossoming Mongrel city-state of Avalon -- and a 
couple of such traders, bringing a wagon in through Haven's north gates, 
set themselves to gossiping about the scruffy young fellow they'd given a ride 
to after finding him trudging down the road towards the city. 
	"I'm tellin' ye, Betsy, th' lad's prob'ly got sunstroke and we durned 
well shoulda pointed 'im at Delphi! What damnfool puppy without a dinar in 'is 
pocket's gonna sit on th' back of a wagon singin' at the top of 'is damnfool 
lungs, anyhow?" 
	"Hold yer tongue, man, ye want 'im t' hear ye?!"
	"Ow! Lares, woman, dinnae hafta smack me -- ah, 'e's gone anyway, 
ain't he?" 
	"Hmph. Ye got a tin ear an' that's a fact, Zeke! Why, th' boy dem near 
sung th' birds outta the trees an' I f'r one was likin' listenin' t' 'im!" 
	"Ye were likin' lookin' at his pretty young -- ow! -- face, y'mean! 
Hmph. 'King o' th' whole wide world,' me arse. Dinnae see what bein' dirty an' 
skinny an' hungry makes ye king of, 'cept bein' dirty, skinny, an' hungry, 
even if 'king', 'thing', an' 'sing' all rhyme. Hrmph." 
	"Well, we could ha' done somethin' 'bout his bein' hungry iffin ye 
hadn't pitched 'im off the wagon soon's we got into the walls, ye great ox!" 
	Nobody gave the old traders much attention, though. Zeke and Betsy 
have argued day in and day out for years now, every time they come into Haven, 
and it's merely a matter of what the comfortably married pair choose to spend 
their morning arguing about this time. Soon enough, they'd vanished off about 
their business, like their grubby young passenger.
	It takes a long time -- a very long time -- to walk all the way
from a back corner of the Empyre to the city of Haven. But as far as the
young Mongrel David is concerned, it's simply been an opportunity to 
stretch his legs a bit, get a mighty fine look at the land, and sing to 
his heart's content. And what's not to sing about? He's had bright
sunlight and fresh air and mountains and trees and rivers all around him,
and now, coming into Haven, he's got a whole city full of brand new people
ahead of him, possibilities for fun, and maybe some good honest work to
put money in his pockets. All in all it's enough to put a spring in a 
young man's step. And so now that he's finally reached this great big city,
he's ready and raring to take it all in, guilelessly oblivious to the dangers
the unwary traveller might bump into in a crowded marketplace.
	But fortunately for David, the goddess of Luck is looking kindly on
him today....

*===========================< In Character Time >===========================*
             Time of day:  Late Morning
          Date on Aether:  Monday, August 24, 3906.
           Year on Earth:  1506 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Last Quarter
                  Season:  Summer
                 Weather:  Clear Skies
             Temperature:  Hot
*==========================================================================*

The Rialto - Haven(#159RDJM$)
     Reigning over the Rialto is the very heart of Haven: the Delphic Citadel. 
  It dwarfs the other buildings, which cluster around it like so many children 
  seeking a parent's protection. Day or night, rain or shine, its walls seem 
  to glimmer with a light of their own, as if, over the centuries, the magic 
  within had slowly permeated the entire structure. The main tower soars 
  higher than the tallest tree, and each side tapers inward so that it 
  resembles a giant obelisk. Four smaller towers stand at the four points of 
  the compass, representing the unification of each race under Delphi's 
  government.
     And here is where they all gather. The Rialto is the famed marketplace of 
  Haven, full of shops, stalls, and brightly colored tents. The shouts of 
  merchants, the haggling of patrons, the music of entertainers, and the 
  laughter of children create a nigh-constant cacophony that assaults the 
  senses. But the Rialto is nothing if not exciting, and crowds often gather 
  here for important events and public addresses.
                      (Note: 'places' are enabled here.)                      
Contents:
Sebastienne       
Clock              
A wooden fence      
Obvious Exits:
Streets <N,S,E,W,NE,NW,SE,SW>  Delphic Citadel <DC>   The Smithy <TS>        

Late morning. A good time to wander into the Rialto -- at least, if you're in 
  to crowds. Certainly, there's enough of a crowd in the marketplace today, 
  and one more Mongrel in their midst isn't anything spectactular to remark 
  upon. He's disheveled. He's in need of a bath. Neither of these things are 
  remarkable for Mongrels, either. One thing _does_ make David stand out, 
  though, and that is the look of wide-eyed amazement the young man is wearing 
  as he wanders into view, gaping openly at everything in sight.

There are certain types of people who pretty much beg to be stolen from, and 
  then there are the types that are too good to pass up. David is one of 
  these, and Tienne's well trained eyes spot him out quickly. Only downside of 
  the fact.. one, raggly mongrel equals up to nothing of value. Still, it's 
  worth the effort just to teach him a well learned lesson in this city.
So she moves with intent, and soon the floppy, dragging winged empyrean is 
  behind her target. One hand taps him on the left shoulder, while she ducks 
  to the right. Another step and she is blended back into the crowd. Now.. 
  where is his pouch?

Pouch? What pouch? The Empyrean, with that swift darting in behind the 
  black-haired young man, can determine one thing about him rather quickly: he 
  doesn't appear to have a thing on him, at least not in obvious sight -- and 
  if that look of guileless wonder upon his face is any indication, chances 
  are high he's not informed enough to be hiding his valuables upon him out of 
  the reach of itchy thieving hands. The way he starts at the fleeting touch 
  on his shoulder and the confused way he whirls his head this way and that 
  suggests he's a little slow on the uptake, too. "Wha--? 'Lo?"

Sebastienne groans and settles back beside him. Why does she always get all 
  soft-hearted on poor hapless fellows like him. She swings an arm over his 
  shoulder before he can protest.. well, before he realizes she is back on 
  that side. "'Lo yourself there friend. New here huh? C'mere. Let's have a 
  bite to eat and talk a while. What do ya say?" She offers a bright, warm 
  smile that most would find unnerving, but given this boy's happy-go-lucky 
  state.. she figures he will find it sincere.

Sebastienne
Dirty, unkept and shapeless are the words used to describe the not-so-regal 
  looking wings that droop and drag behind her back. In fact, it looks as if 
  she has never used them, and maybe doesn't even realize they exist. Her hair 
  is long and soft, and colored like fresh honey as it tumbles over her 
  shoulders. It does an impeccable job of framing her chiseled face. High 
  cheek bones, a small nose, and small, full lips. Her chin matches the rest 
  of the ensemble, proportuined and well shaped. Her eyes are deep set, and 
  are colored the same blue as the night sky - just as the sun begins to slip 
  past the horizon and sheds its last rays of the darkening canvas.
Her clothes however are not what one would expect to see a young Empyrean 
  running around in. She wears dark pants, torn and dirty, and a dark blue 
  rope that has been cut and hemmed up to hang as a shirt. On her feet, the 
  unthinkable - clunky brown, soft solded boots.
She walks easily, and seems to have a stamina for staying on her feet. Her 
  skin is fair still, though obviously darkened from many days spent outside. 
  Her eyes take in everything around her, and flinch when she catches people 
  looking back at her direction. When one can spot her, and elude her to the 
  fact she is being looked at, you can find a bright smile and laughter in her 
  eyes.
Carrying:
Angel Necklace

"Tyche!" David gasps, as the young Empyrean appears seemingly out of nowhere 
  beside him. Blue eyes blink several times, and although consternation 
  crosses that guileless young face, he does indeed seem to take this offer at 
  face value. Consternation is swiftly followed by a kind of sheepish 
  gratitude. "Gimme a start theah, Dom'na... uh... Ah-Ah-Ah ain't got no money 
  on me, cain't buy nothin'..." Mmmm. His accent, for starters, definitely 
  marks him as having come from somewhere a great distance away from Haven. 
  Some remote province of the Empyre, perhaps? And from the look of him, he 
  might well have walked all the way here.

Sebastienne squints one eye as she looks you up and down. She nods. "I know. 
  That's why I'm paying. Where ya from? Oh... name's Tienne by the way, what 
  should I call you?" She grins again and loops her arm through his, nodding 
  her head towards a food vendor. She really has nothing in common with the 
  standard empyrean. For starters.. pathetic wings, and for two, she doesn't 
  seem all uppity and snippy. That's a good thing right?

Definitely a little slow on the uptake -- but he's also evidently ravenously 
  hungry. Between that barrage of forcefully amiable questions and the deft 
  turning of his attention off towards that vendor, the poor boy looks as 
  though he's about to keel over from startlement. "Uh... well, uh... that's 
  awful neighborly of ya, Dom'na... David. Ah-Ah-Ah mean, m'name's David.. 
  Ah-Ah guess Ah am jes' a l'il' hungry..."

David
Just another Mongrel, from the look of him -- but this one at least is easy on 
  the eyes, as Mongrels go. He's young, seemingly fit enough, and not _too_ 
  scruffy of appearance; his features, while not necessarily refined of line, 
  are pleasingly symmetrical. Short but unevenly cut black hair stands out in 
  striking contrast with his sunbrowned skin and big sky-blue eyes, of a shade 
  that suggests he's got an Empyrean or two somewhere back in his ancestry. 
  He's tall, his frame rangy and lean, though his awkward carriage suggests 
  shyness, post-adolescent clumsiness, or both. So does his voice, since he 
  appears to have a habit of stammering his words -- but still, something 
  about the clarion young baritone falls quite pleasingly upon the ear. He 
  fidgets a lot, too, seemingly unconsciously, often rhythmically tapping his 
  foot or hand upon whatever's handy.
He's as simply clad as most Mongrels are, in old brown leather breeches, 
  clearly heavily used and scuffed boots, and a threadbare, off-white linen 
  shirt that hangs loosely upon him. He doesn't appear to be armed, and in 
  fact, doesn't appear to have a single thing on him except his clothes.

A soft giggle escapes from the girl's rosey lips and she nods. "Well David, 
  come this way. Haven has some of the greasiest, slimiest, worst for ya, and 
  best tasting grub anywhere. You like meatwraps?" Tienne keeps her arm looped 
  through the mongrels, of course escalating a few stares from others of her 
  race. She simply shrugs them off or sticks her tongue out at them. "Ya know 
  David, you need to .. well, learn your way around. I can show you if you 
  like.. but. Well, to be honest. You are a walking target. It's just as good 
  you have no money, even if you did, it would be gone quicker than you can 
  blink an eye."

"Raht about now Ah could prob'ly eat me a whole horse, Dom'na Tienne," David 
  admits bashfully. Escorted briskly closer to that vendor, he turns those 
  dusky blue eyes of his in the direction of the fellow's wares -- and for a 
  moment looks as if he's starved enough to eat everything the merchant's got 
  for sale, so powerful is the yearning in his face. With a bit of difficulty 
  he jerks his attention back to the Empyrean, blushing vividly and scuffing a 
  foot. "Uh... Ah am? You will? Th-tha's awful nice, Dom'na..."

Sarra arrives right into the thick of the Rialto from the southwest.
Sarra has arrived.

Sebastienne chuckles again. "First lesson. You don't call me domina okay? I 
  don't call those winged upstarts domina, and you certainly don't call me 
  that. Got it? Just Tienne." She gives a wink and walks up to the merchant. 
  "Two meatwraps...er.. make it three. And go easy on the spice on the two of 
  bub, got a newcomer here." The merchant gives her a smile, after all, 
  whether her money is legit or stolen... she is still his most frequent 
  customer. "Now we wait. So tell me, where ya from? You have a thick accent." 
  The vendor gets to preparing the mals as the young empyrean talks to her new 
  friend.

Morning is here, the birds are chirping, the merchants are yelling, the 
  mongrels are falling. Well, Sarra is, at least. Then again, she does that 
  whether it is morning or evening. Anyway, so far she's only tripped over a 
  few benches, and nothing alive. Towards the food stands she goes, not 
  humming a merry tune, because she can't hum. Even if she is merry. Which she 
  may be. It's hard to tell. Once she arrives at the desired food merchant, 
  she sees there is a line-up. Woe is her. She brushes some sticky hair out of 
  her eyes, chewing on her lip.

The Mongrel lad appears to be something of a six-foot-tall puppy, for the look 
  with which he regards Tienne as she orders him the meatwraps is decidedly 
  akin to the sort of look you'd expect a hungry dog to be regarding potential 
  nourishment. At her words, though, a shy crooked smile blossoms across his 
  face. Mmm. Decent teeth, for a Mongrel. "Okay, Tienne," he drawls, bobbing 
  his head shyly, "Ah-Ah, uh, well, Ah come outta l'il bitty town in th' 
  Empyre... ain't nearly's big as _this_ though...!" And he shoots that 
  wide-eyed gaze of his around the marketplace, awed.

Sebastienne nods and pats the shoulder. "Ok ok.. it's big here yup, but .. uh, 
  don't make it look like you think it is big. This can be a pretty rough 
  town, and as of late people have been rioting over just about everything. 
  Gotta be cool.. collect and calm to avoid trouble.. ok?" She smiles again 
  and the vendor calls to her. "Ere goes Ti.. dun worry 'bout the pay.. ya 
  overdid it 'gin last time." He shakes his head and chuckles. "Gotta learn 
  them numbers Ti.." The food is handed over, as well as a jug of wine, and 
  Tienne nods to a bench. "We'll eat there David, come on."

Somewhere across the marketplace, someone starts up a rhythm on tabla drums -- 
  one of the market musicians, apparently out to try to earn her keep this 
  morning. For a moment David's gaze shoots in that direction, sky-blue eyes 
  lighting up with an innocent delight, before his attention is quite 
  thoroughly seized by a) food, and b) Tienne's advice, in that order. Bustled 
  over to that bench, the Mongrel blurts out in fervent gratitude, "Gosh, 
  Tienne, this _is_ awful neighborly, a-an' soon's Ah git me a job Ah'm gonna 
  hafta do somethin' nice f'r you, too!"

We wait for food. We bounce up and down like an idiot. We try to not notice as 
  people give us odd looks. We get tired of waiting and move away, because we 
  have a short attention span. We stop speaking in second person plural. Her 
  semi-stumbling walk takes her in rather random directions. Ooh...That's 
  Sebastienne. She knows her! And she's got a guy with her, too. Sarra circles 
  oh-so-subtly. Except for the subtle part. Should she speak, or is Tienne on 
  a hot date? She decides to go up to them. After all, it's not like Tienne 
  could get revenge on crashing /Sarra's/ hot dates. "H'lo," her voice breaks 
  into the conversation from somewhere behind where they speak. The ghostly 
  voice. Or maybe not.

Sebastienne turns around to see Sarra. "Oh Sarra! Great.. C'mere." She smiles 
  and nods to David while breaking her meatwrap in two. One half is handed to 
  Sarra, while the other _two_ meatwraps are given to the scraggly mongrel 
  boy. "Sarra, meet David.. he is uh.. new here and.. well, keep an eye on him 
  okay? First time in a big city." She grins and shakes her head, casting her 
  honeyed curls to her back. Wings flop down off the table, hanging like 
  anoverweight gown and veil off her shoulders. "David, this is Sarra.. she 
  can help you learn your way around too, okay?"

"Oh... well, 'lo theah!" David bobs his head down at the newcomer, and then 
  positively lights up as the bounty of food is thrust into his hands. Without 
  too much in the way of grace -- perhaps he's still trying to catch up with a 
  body that's reached maturity before he's had time to accustom himself to it? 
  -- he tries to strike a balance between inhaling both the wraps at once and 
  doing something clever like, oh, say, sitting DOWN. He finally opts for the 
  latter, plopping himself down and starting to inhale the first of the wraps. 
  As he does, though, his right foot starts tapping unconsciously, in time 
  with the beat of that distant tabla drum.

Sarra takes the food rather distractedly, shifting her weight rhythmically 
  from her right foot to her left and back again. Repeatedly. "Thanks," she 
  says, grinning at Tienne. She doesn't sit at all, because she likes to not 
  sit, or something. She nods at her next words and says rather shyly to David 
  (because strange males over five-foot-five scare her, or something), "Nice 
  to meet you." Ooh. She has manners. Then she shoves the wrap in her mouth 
  (well, some of it). Okay, scratch the manners bit.

Taking a bite of her own wrap, Tienne remains quiet for the time being. After 
  a half of her half is eaten, she folds it back up, putting it in a pocket. 
  Age old habits of saving half for Boden are still strong, perhaps she will 
  never break that habit. She stretches her feet out and looks around, she is 
  far more perceptive than most, so the drum beating and the toe tapping is 
  noticed. "Got a good beat there David. Can ya dance?"

David's manners are hardly any more refined than Sarra's, for although he 
  _has_ sat his lanky self down, this hasn't stopped him from trying to inhale 
  his food. He looks up in the middle of taking in a great gulp of spiced 
  meat, eyes watering just a touch at the unfamiliar seasonings; as he does, 
  his foot settles down. Blue eyes blink several more times before he 
  remembers to swallow, and then he asks blankly, "What, dom--Ah-Ah-Ah mean, 
  Tienne?"

Sarra finally sits herself down on the bench, as well, because she's special. 
  Oh, yes she is, very special. Uhm, yeah. Maybe Sarra's perceptive, it's hard 
  to tell. She doesn't actually say anything, but rather continues 
  being...shy? No, actually just hungry. She hurries down the last of her wrap 
  like a starving woman, which she actually isn't. She lifts her head again 
  then, listening with interest. She could contribute. Um...Later!

Sebastienne smiles and chuckles at the watering eyes. She hands the boy a jug 
  of wine. "It's wine, so don't drink it too fast." She nods to the beat of 
  the drum. "You were tapping your foot perfectly.. you a dancer? Or do you 
  play on the drum as well?"

"Oh..." David's already managed to devour half of his meal, so he's got a hand 
  free for wine, which he accepts with the same sort of dazed, marvelling 
  gratitude Sebastienne has won out of him with everything she's done for him 
  thus far. His first reaction, though, is to peer bemusedly down at his own 
  feet. His second is to take an experimental swig of the wine -- and though 
  the vintage is as unfamiliar as the spices in the food, though he has to 
  cough for a moment to clear his throat, it seems to him that it _does_ taste 
  good. Very good. "Naw, Ah-Ah ain't nothin' like that... Ah guess Ah jes' 
  heard 'em playin'..." Lean, broad shoulders roll in a shrug, as he concludes 
  timidly, "Ah banged around onna drum coupla times, but Ah ain't no bard're 
  nothin'...!"

Who wants to volunteer to /not/ give Sarra wine? *hands raise across 
  Haven*...knowing this well, she doesn't ask for any herself. Becaus she's 
  Self-Aware. And special. Anyway..she listens in, smiling a bit, but with no 
  huge reaction. At the end of David's speech, she offers, grin widening a 
  bit, "I know a mongrel bard. He got me thrown in prison." Gossip, Sarra, 
  it's not a good thing. "Well, wasn't just him. Uhm, right." She blinks and 
  wonders why she said that. We need conversation lessons, yeah.

Sebastienne nods to first David, and then Sarra. "She is a troublemaker 
  David.. look out.. and a horrid drunk. Thus..well.. give her juice if ya get 
  her something ever." She winks to Sarra and takes a deep breath. "Oh.. hey 
  Sarra.. I was at the Pantheon the other day, listening to this lady sing for 
  her audition.. only Cynara was in the back room, and the lady.. who *knew* 
  Cyn was there.. started singing this song about a fallen angle, branded and 
  marred.. Oh Kronian, I thought sparks were gonna fly,.. well they did, but I 
  mean, the lady escaped unscathed." She watchse David as he drinks the wine 
  and smiles.

The gossip and conversation offered by both the young women seems to go right 
  past David's head -- but then again, he's got food to eat, still, and he 
  hungrily plows through that second meatwrap, gulping down swallows of wine 
  in between gulps of sustenance. He looks back and forth between Sebastienne 
  and Sarra, his features full of apparent utter guilelessness, and as they 
  talk, his left foot starts twitching in time to the tabla.

"I am /not/," protests Sarra, peering at Sebastienne. "I haven't been drunk, 
  uhm...I don't think I have." She looks warily at David, as though he might 
  go repeat this across the city. Then she shrugs and looks astonished at 
  Sebastienne's next words, "She /what/?" she gasps as the meaning finally 
  reaches. "That's /horrible/, though. What did she /do/? I mean, Cynara, not 
  the lady." She wrinkles her nose at the last word. Then she realizes she 
  maybe shouldn't be talking about this in public, and starts blushing. Sarra, 
  you look like a tomato, it's not that good for...attractiveness, or 
  something.

With a shake of her head, wide eyes, and a roll to her shoulders, Tienne 
  answers, "Nothing. Well not really, yelled, warned, threatened.. but didn't 
  touch her. And I don't think the poor girl is going back into the Pantheon 
  ever. She had a great voice.. just.. poor lyrics really." She chuckles. 
  Tienne won't go into details, because the rest of that night involves a 
  splitting headache, a purple-eyed heron and throwing wine at a very innocent 
  Morgan. She looks down, lost in thought a moment.

As for David, he looks... well, lost. But at least he doesn't look quite so 
  hungry anymore, and as he keeps glancing back and forth between the two 
  females, one leg twitching absently, he blurts out, "The meat was awful 
  good!" Another swig of wine. Hrmm. So's the wine, for that matter. "An' this 
  too, Dom'na... uh, Ah mean, Tienne... so, uh, you been awful nice s'far, c'n 
  Ah, uh..."

Sarra retraeats back into silence. (And the world rejoiced). She sits there, 
  grinning at absolutely nothing. Sarra? Whatever you've been smoking, you've 
  takenenough of it. For a year. Or maybe she's on a natural summer high. As 
  in 'my hair is sticky, my clothes are too warm, but I Don't Care' sort of 
  thing. She agrees finally, "It was. Good, that is. I mean, uhm, the food."

Looking to David, Tienne offers another smile. "David, do me a favor. No 
  matter what you hear about me, from anyone. Remember that you can trust me. 
  I swear on my life you can. Okay?" She looks to Sarra as if hoping she can 
  vouch on this one. She is a good person afterall.. she just steals from the 
  bad ones. That's noble... sort of. She also notices the toe tapping again. 
  "You sure you don't dance?"

"Okay," David promptly replies, apparently willing to take Tienne's 
  proclamation of trustworthiness at face value, just like everything else in 
  this strange encounter. By way of punctuation he bobs his head up and down, 
  making black strands of hair bounce in front of his brow. And then he 
  catches himself, leg stopping; does the boy always twitch this way, and then 
  have it turn off as soon as he's thinking about it? "Uh... Ah-Ah-Ah jes' 
  like music," he stammers, blushing now. And he explains earnestly, pointing 
  a finger off in the direction of the unseen drummer, "'Snice."

Sarra rakes a hand through her hair worriedly, giving Tienne a distinctly 
  strange look. "Some mongrels can't trust purebloods," she says, sounding a 
  bit grim. However, she quickly returns to her usual 
  absent-grinning-shyly-thing. Or whatever it is. Weirdness, maybe. She then 
  looks towards David, "Uhm, well, if you can play it, you'll be in luck, 
  since lots of people like listening to it. Where're you from, anyway? Or 
  d'you not want to say?" She looks apologetic.

Sarra
        That lovely thing known as Time should really have worked harder on 
  this one. Sarra doesn't look much different than she did when she was 
  fifteen. There are a few differences, but the mongrel still looks like a kid 
  at first glance. She's short--not delicate short. Just shrimpy. An inch or 
  so above five feet, and that's with shoes on. She has gained a bit of weight 
  since she arrived, so she doesn't look like a starving waif, but she's still 
  pretty scrawny, and she isn't exactly spilling out of her oversized wool 
  shirt here...her figure is rather...well...Let's not say invisible. 
  Diminutive. That works. Anyhow. Elegant? Um, no. Maybe compared to a 
  stranded fish. On a good day. She has arms and legs that are too long for 
  her body, and she's probably not going to do any more growing. Her narrow, 
  oval face is contradictory, for although the features are not serious, the 
  expression is almost grim. Her pointed, tiny chin and nose are pixielike, 
  and her eyebrows (dark brown) quirk up slightly at the ends. The straight 
  mouth is certainly serious, and visible marks on her lower lip hint to her 
  habit of biting on it. Her eyes..round, owlish, and gray. Something 
  different there...her squinting! Gone! Incredible. Not that this makes her 
  much more graceful in appearance, but at least she'll probably break a few 
  less things. Her skin isn't porcelain-perfect and wonderfully blemish-free, 
  but she's gotten over the worst of adolescent facial trauma. Messy hair, 
  darkish brown, tumbles across her face to her shoulders in loose curls and 
  tangles.

The large clock in the Rialto tolls the twelfth hour.

Sebastienne nods sadly to Sarra. "Some purebloods can't trust 'em either." She 
  grins weakly and leans back. "Isn't his accent thick Sarra?" She chuckles as 
  the question of his homeland is again brought up.

David starts turning a little pink at this commentary on his voice, and if 
  anything, it only makes him stammer harder, the resonant baritone creeping 
  up a bit towards a nervous tenor. "Bremany," he answers guilelessly, 
  pronouncing it 'Brem'ny', and he turns this way and that for a moment as if 
  trying to figure out exactly which way the place in question is from Haven. 
  A bit of frustration creases his young brow; aye, he's still quite lost. "In 
  th' Empyre."

Nodding solemnly, Sarra smiles, a little bit, at Tienne, while she listens. To 
  them talk. Then she talks. "Oh...The /Empyre/...how'd..." She shakes her 
  head and stops being nosy. If anyone's really counting, her accent is 
  exactly regular Havenish either. Anyhow. "Never heard of the place named," 
  she mumbles, and devotes her attention to staring at her shoes. Because 
  they're pretty, and stuff.

Sebastienne leans back a little more and props her head on her folded hands, 
  against the table. "Anything ya need David? A place to stay? I dunno.. you 
  gonna need a place tonight right?"

"Well, uh, Ah-Ah ain't got nowheah quite yet, an'..." David flushes again, 
  more deeply, and takes a moment to distract himself by finishing off the 
  last of the wine. That done, he turns those lost-puppy baby blues upon the 
  young Empyrean, to whom he says plaintively, "Tyche, Tienne, Ah ain't even 
  got me no work yet, an' heah you're bein' all nice an' all... y'don't know 
  nowheah Ah could git work, d'ya? Ah-Ah ain't proud, Ah'll carry stuff 
  'round, Ah'm strong...!"

Sarra gives a sideways grin, tapping her hands on her knees, most 
  unrhythmically. She turns to Tienne, "Uh..." She coughs and seems a bit 
  disconcerted, but shakes her head. Then she chews at her lip before speaking 
  to David, "Maybe you could.." Whatever she was going to say doesn't get 
  finished, for some reason. Reason being, in fact, that Sarra becomes 
  intensely interested in fixing her hair. This is not strange behaviour for 
  her, no...

Sebastienne thinks about things for a moment. "Well first off, a place to 
  stay.. since you aren't proud," she winks playfully at him, "is my cellar. 
  It's small, quiet, and very very .. private. No one will bother you there, 
  and I'll stick around tonight in case you need anything. It's the trapdoor 
  down by the spice cellar's stall. She used to use it in the summer, but she 
  isn't this year. Tomorrow we can look around for work.. should not rush into 
  things just yet. Get a little more under your belt, don't look so lost. 
  Now.. if you need a job, I work at this place down the way. We need some 
  help in the kitchens.. carrying in the shipments, scrubbing down the food, 
  hauling trash and cleaning up at night. Pay is good enough... and .. well, I 
  work there. So I can help you out if you need anything.. what do you think?" 
  She pauses mid-speech to look at Sarra, then chuckles as the girl goes to 
  tending her hair.

This kind of fortune, for David, appears to be far more than he'd dreamed of 
  encountering -- and only a few hours into this great big ol' beehive of a 
  city! That shy lopsided smile of his breaks out across his face once again, 
  and he starts that vigorous nodding, sending that stray forelock of hair 
  into a bouncing fit in front of his forehead. "Ah c'n do all that!" he pipes 
  in ringing tones. "Sounds real easy, an' Ah-Ah-Ah'll be raht happy t' work 
  f'r you givin' me a place t' sleep an' th' food an' all...!" He veritably 
  beams now to Sebastienne, and for good measure he beams at Sarra too, just 
  because she's there.

At Sebastienne's words, Sarra's hands fall from her hair...she hadn't been 
  fixing it so much as fiddling with it. Now it looks like even more of a 
  bird's nest than usual. She ignores David, except to smile blinkishly at 
  him...she stares at Tienne, though. "You...you have a cellar?" she stammers. 
  "And a /job/?" Why does she look so astonished. "Where? Why...I mean..." Sh 
  starts fiddling with her sleeves, looking rather abashed. O-kay then...

Sebastienne looks to Sarra as she grows astonished. "I've had the cellar for a 
  while.. me and Boden stay there in the winter when it's too cold to sleep 
  outside. As for the job, .. uhm, someone helped me get it. It's just while 
  it's slow there, so usually late at night. You can stay in the cellar too, 
  ya know that Sarra." She looks back to David, smiling and nodding in 
  approvement. "Great. We will get you some clothes and such, and we can talk 
  more about your duties tonight. You can rest tonight and tomorrow, and start 
  in the afternoon. Unless you have things to take care of?"

Clothes? David blinks seven or eight more times, peering down at himself as if 
  wondering exactly what's wrong with the clothes he's got; haven't they 
  served him just fine, after all, in weeks of walking? As for things to take 
  care of -- well, he's fed, he's not thirsty, and indeed the wine's hit his 
  head just enough to send a rosy glow through his general perception of the 
  world. (On top of what appears to be his already rosy perception of it, that 
  is.) What else is there? "Uh.... well, Ah-Ah jes' got heah, Tienne" -- the 
  name, in his accent, comes out almost 'teana' -- "an' theah you were, an', 
  uh..." He starts to glance around again with that wide-eyed wonder of his -- 
  but! The boy can learn! He catches himself, tries to look as nonchalant as 
  possible, and concludes, "Ah ain't got nothin' much." Understatement of the 
  year, hmmm?

Sarra just shakes her head, seeming suddenly discouraged. Are we having 
  mood-swings or something? Probably. She sighs softly, shaking her head 
  again, "No, no. I'm fine, don't need to sleep there or anything." It's hard 
  to tell if she's trying or not, but in any case, Sarra's eyes become 
  blatantly 'pity me' as she looks from one to the other. She snaps out of her 
  mournful mood long enough to try to catch all of David's words..that is one 
  interesting accent. At least she sdoesn't keep talking. This. Time.

Sebastienne furrows her brow at Sarra, wishing she knew what had just 
  happened. She turns back do David and just smiles. "Well, I know how bad it 
  can get if you end up getting help from the wrong people, and you were... 
  well like I said, a target for that sort of thing. But, you seem to have a 
  bright look on life and I wanted to make sure that isn't ruined too 
  quickly." She casts a somewhat concerned glance to Sarra before turning 
  back. "Ya ready to go to the cellar?"

David, it seems, is vulnerable to 'pity me' sorts of looks -- especially if 
  given off by small, vulnerable-looking creatures like Sarra. He gives the 
  girl a sort of 'awwwww' expression, as if she were a hurt kitten, and 
  promptly promises her, "Ah'll git ya a meatwrap soon's Ah got some money, 
  okay?" Then he hops up, all six-foot-lanky of him, and smiles timorously to 
  his benefactor. "Ah'm ready!"

Sarra coughs and looks embarrassed. Really, she's old enough to know better 
  than to try to be pitiful. Coughing, she swings right back over to cheerful 
  and clumsy. Clumsy being evident when she gets up (um, why, Sarra, why?) and 
  promptly nearly trips. Coughing, yet again, she sits back down. Okay, um, 
  yeah, anyway...she shakes her head at David, "Don't worry about it, I'll get 
  a job soon." Then to Tienne, "Where...how did you find your job?" See, Sarra 
  can't really do jobs like...waitressing, etc. Because she drops things. But 
  she always forgets that, and things. She folds her hands, because she is 
  trying to be demure. Mood-swings indeed. Oi.

Sebastienne shrugs a little. "Lots of places will hire young help Sarra. Just 
  as messengers or package carriers. Keep an eye out around the market. I'll 
  help you find one okay?" She offers a warm smile to the girl and then nods 
  to David. "Ok, this way David, ya coming Sarra? We can party down there for 
  a while." WIth that she starts heading towards the cellar.

It's no small wonder why Tienne tagged this Mongrel boy as entirely too much 
  of a rube for his own good. A simple meal has convinced him to follow the 
  Empyrean along exactly like a loyal puppy, and he settles into a long, 
  loping stride in her wake, just enough to keep out of the way of her wings. 
  As he goes, he bobs his head at Sarra -- and this time it's his hand that 
  twitches, to the noise of the tabla drum drifting across the market.

Sarra chews at her lip, her face now plainly concerned as she absently twirls 
  a lock of hair about a finger. "'Lright," she mumbles, not upset or 
  uncomfortable mumbling. Just Sarra-mumbling. Which is scary enough. She 
  trots along like somebody's pet. Let us now be pathetic and sad-looking. 
  Well, not really; she looks quite content, if a bit distracted.

Sebastienne leads the way down the streets, turns down a darker alley and then 
  arrives at a flat door, laying across an opening against the side of a 
  building. It smells like sweet spices, and is located in the back where no 
  one really comes to loiter. She lifts the rope and tugs the two doors open. 
  "There's a lantern down there. There's six steps, then take a left, it's on 
  the table." She nods her head to let the others go first.

It's possible David's a little vacant behind the eyes, but he is at least 
  young and strong, his stride energetic as he hurries along with his newfound 
  friend. As they head out of the marketplace he casts it a regretful look -- 
  though whether it's because the tabla drummer is moving out of audible range 
  or because he hasn't yet drunk in his fill of the sight of the bustling 
  Rialto, he doesn't say. Despite Sebastienne's advice he keeps gawking this 
  way and that, one hand periodically tapping against his thigh in the last 
  rhythm he'd heard from the distant drummer. But once the three of them reach 
  the door, he jerks his attention to the matter at hand, saying earnestly, 
  "Looks cozy, sure does beat sleepin' on th' ground, Dom--er, uh, Tienne...!" 
  And through the door and down the steps he goes, utterly trustingly.

Sarra is not a slow walker but she isn't a graceful one, and when she tries to 
  keep up, she ends up tripping over a couple of benches, chairs, babies, and 
  so forth. When they reach the door, Sarra pauses and stares down it, waiting 
  until after David has gone down it so trustingly. Now, despite the fact that 
  Sarra /knows/ Tienne and hardly thinks she is a psycho killer or mongrel 
  hater in disguise, she doesn't move right away. She chews on her lip and 
  looks warily at Tienne, then down the steps. "Uhm." She mutters something 
  which sounds unpleasant, and quickly hurries after David. 'Quickly' might 
  not be the best idea when one has the balance of Sarra.

Sebastienne steps down after everyone is in, having to pull her wings in with 
  her hands to keep them from getting pinched in the door. She thumps down the 
  stairs and calls out just to make sure Boden isn't here. "Boden, ya here?" 
  As light flares into the room, one can see blankets, tables, oil lamps and 
  other odds and ends. It is kept neat, despite it's rather plain and simple 
  accomodations, and it does smell good. Like spices!

The aromatic cellar gets the same guileless curiosity David has seemed to 
  exhibit to everything else he's seen in Haven thus far, and after turning 
  about in a slow circle to take everything in, the Mongrel turns round to say 
  earnestly to the others, "It looks awful homey...!"

When archers don't jump out to kill Sarra, she does relax a bit, though keeps 
  her arms tightly crossed and her posture somewhat defensive. "It's nice," 
  she agrees softly, standing in the light and relaxing a little as she does 
  so. Dark creepy rooms. However, she /does/ seem...uneasy, and looks up 
  towards the staircase, "You sure we have enough air in here?" Anxious little 
  thing, isn't she?

Sebastienne chuckles to Sarra. "Oh yah, plenty. It's got ventilation so the 
  spices don't all get mushy." To David she smiles shyly. "Ya don't have to be 
  nice, it's a cellar. But it beats the streets." She lets herself flop down 
  onto a blanket and pats one near her. "Have a seat guys."

David isn't exactly tired, mind you. He's spend weeks on end walking the 
  length of the Empyre -- and the tan he bears is testament to this, even if 
  he hasn't actually volunteered this particular information yet. So the 
  relatively short walk through Haven doesn't appear to have even winded him. 
  But he settles down gratefully upon one of the blankets, leaning back 
  against the wall and savoring the feel of just sitting still for a bit. "Ah 
  been sleepin' on th' ground, so this is right palace-like," he proclaims.

Sarra chews on her lip some more and paces about. Really, she worries as much 
  as an old woman does. However, she finally plunks herself down on a blanket, 
  drawing her knees up to her chin. "Thanks for inviting me here," she says, 
  polite, but pretty sincere, too. Not really much fun at a party, would she?

Sebastienne stretches out and kicks her boots off. "I have some ale down here 
  too, if you guys want any." She lets out a long sigh, and relaxes for a 
  while. "So David, tell us about yourself, what do you do, what do you like.. 
  all the good stuff."

David ducks his head shyly, saying, "Awww, Ah-Ah-Ah ain't sure what t' say..." 
  He blinks a bit again at the offer of ale, and then politely pipes, "That'd 
  be nahce!" Apparently he's decided that Tienne, dirty wings or no, is his 
  personal guardian angel -- so he accepts this suggestion of hers with the 
  same trusting faith he has the rest of her words. "Ah'm jes' a Mongrel... 
  don' really do nothin' special..."

Sarra wraps her arms about her legs, and shrugs at Tienne, "Uhm, maybe a 
  little," she says slowly...after all, it's not like she'd start dancing on 
  tables from a tiny little drink. She's just paranoid. She lifts her chin off 
  her knees to peer about some more. "I'm glad I can see now," she mumbles, 
  "Or I'd've fallen eighteen times." Only eighteen? She finally addresses 
  David, "Uhm, well, what did you do before?" she wonders.

Sebastienne laughs softly at Sarra and nods. "You can have as much as you 
  want, I'll make sure you stay down here tonight." To David though, she casts 
  what would almost look to be a scolding glance. "No such thing as just 
  this.. or just that.. so I won't have you saying nonsense like that around 
  me. Got it?" After all, Tienne is just an empyrean, and she doesn't do 
  anything special either, in fact, she doesn't even do what she is supposed 
  to be a natural at doing.. fly. She stands to gather the jug of ale. It is 
  large, possibly three gallons, and has only a small handle. "We have to just 
  share and drink outta the jug okay? No glasses down here."

"Uh, okay...." David sits up, and while Sarra might be curling in on herself 
  and occupying as little space as possible, the young man seems to sprawl 
  even when he's sitting still. He's got one leg stuck out straight in front 
  of him, and his entire posture is loose and relaxed, even if his expression 
  is bashful. Bobbing his head at Sarra and blushing to Tienne, he offers, 
  "Well, uh, Ah-Ah ain't really done nothin' much special f'r months, 'cept 
  walkin', since Ah lef' home... warn't nothin' much t' do back theah, an', 
  Ah-Ah-Ah sorta kinda hadda leave..." His voice drops a little, towards a 
  husky embarrassed mumble.

Sarra fidgets a bit with her hands, but other than that remains fairly still. 
  She listens to both the others speak, rather intensely as well. When there's 
  no more speech, she smiles at Tienne, "'S fine with me, thanks. I probably 
  won't have too much." So she says again. From the way she talks, you'd think 
  she had a habit of getting herself hammered or something. She does not ask 
  David any questions, only gives him her solemn, owlish look.

Sebastienne uncorks the jug and tips it back, taking a healthy swig. She 
  passes it first to Sarra, since she is not talking, and then settles herself 
  further against the wall. "Why'd ya have to leave David?"

The young Mongrel turns abruptly crimson, and mumbles something that might be 
  "Theah was this, uh... this dom'na... she, uh..." _Now_ he shrinks down a 
  bit, his bearing seeming to wilt in proportion to how red he's turning under 
  his tan. "Wanted t', uh.... do somethin', um..."

Sarra takes the jug and takes a long sip. She is very /glad/ she is sipping 
  when David speaks, as it means that she has an excuse to stay quiet. As 
  opposed to...well, what else would she do? Giggle? Be embarrassed? It's hard 
  to say. Well, anyway, after she takes her sip, she passes the jug to him 
  wordlessly, again chewing her lip.

Sebastienne looks to David. "Huh? She was trying to get you in trouble? And 
  they made YOU leave?" She sighs, clicking her tongue.

David apparently needs a very hefty swig of ale to get enough courage to 
  clarify exactly what he means, and before he can actually manage to say 
  anything, he has to spend a few moments coughing on the stuff in the jug. 
  "Hoo," he gasps after a moment, and then he's able to embarrassedly mutter, 
  "She, uh... w-w-wanted t' do somethin', uh... impropah!"

She can't /help/ it, it's not her fault...and it's sure as heck not the ale, 
  because she' had one sip...Anyhow, Sarra stifles her laughter by biting her 
  lip even harder, but it's easy to see that she's on the verge of a giggling 
  fit. Now that's mature, oh yeah. Her expression is a mixture of distress 
  that she's...behaving ike this, and serious amusement.

Sebastienne goes wide-eyed at David. "A winger was trying to do that to you? 
  Well well. Heh, yah, I get that all the time here. Haven doesn't approve of 
  it either, but they have come to have to accept it a little. Not that I have 
  a lover or anything .. I don't!" Now it's Tiennes turn to blush. "I just 
  mean, I have a best friend and we spend alot time together, and well yah.. I 
  know how it goes. SO they made you leave huh? Where did you go after that?"

David blushes all the more, passing the jug around again; this frees him up to 
  mumble abashedly, "W-w-well, uh, y'see, uh.... well, yeah, an'..." He shoves 
  a hand through his hair, trying to get the errant dark locks out of his 
  eyes, though this only serves to momentarily disturb the general disheveled 
  state of his hair rather than actually mend it. "Then Ah jes' walked a lot, 
  an' saw th' Empyre, an' then Ah got heah."

Sarra stops giggling, which is a good thing. "Oh, well..." She blinks at 
  Tienne, then shrugs, "I don't think many Empyrean women'll do that to you 
  here." She shrugs. After all, she doesn't /know/ that many Empyrean women, 
  except for Sebastienne, and she doesn't really count. No offense to her. 
  "After all, they haven't with me." Empyrean women don't hit on her? Hmm, 
  funny how that works. Sarra blinks a few times, then shrugs, nodding to 
  Tienne, "Yeah, sometimes if you talk a lot with one boy, even if you are 
  definitely not interested inhim, people theink you're..doing stuff." Ooh, 
  subtle. "'Specially if you aren't the same race, I guess." Not that she has 
  many close personal male friends who are purebloods.

[NOTE: Never did finish this scene. But posting the incomplete log anyway. :)
 -- David's player]