"Faces from the Past"

Log Date:
	11/23/99

Log Cast:
	Sabrienna, Richard, Dulcinea, Arys (NPC emitted by Dulcinea), Timin,
Oriane, Nox, Enrikos (NPC emitted by Oriane), Moirae (NPC emitted by
Dulcinea), Casperia, Gliding-Eagle, Ihlini, Grace, SunHawk, Lyranthe

Log Intro:
	Ever since his partner-in-thievery Nox had his wings mutilated by
the sea creature that attacked Haven, Richard has been determined to locate
Cynara and convince her to restore the younger man's wings. His reasons he's
kept to himself for the most part, sharing something of them only with the
young Mongrel Auvrey, to whom he has become increasingly drawn over the
past several months. But he has not been able to locate Cynara personally --
he's had to settle for sending a message to her via one of her followers
and trust that it'll make it into the Outcast leader's hands.
	Now, his task accomplished, Richard intends to return to his own
business. Rumor comes to him that Sabrienna, another thief -- and one who
owes her introduction into her career of choice to Richard -- is looking
for him. And so he goes in search of her, to the Rialto...
	Where all sorts of fascinating individuals are liable to turn up.
Like the members of the Empyrean House Nemea, for example...

*===========================< In Character Time >==========================*
             Time of day:  Night (Dawnside)
          Date on Aether:  Saturday, August 11, 3905.
           Year on Earth:  1505 A.D. 
       Phase of the Moon:  Waxing Gibbous
                  Season:  Summer
                 Weather:  Partly Cloudy
             Temperature:  Warm
*==========================================================================*

Main street crosses the Rialto, which is busy and bustling as you enter.
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: 
Sabrienna         
Infirmary Tent - The Rialto - Haven              
Obvious Exits:
Streets <N,S,E,W,NE,NW,SE,SW>  Delphic Citadel <DC>          

Dulcinea is lured in from the north by the aroma of baked goods.
Dulcinea has arrived.

Sabrienna sits on one of the benches. Her hands are wrapped with an old cloth 
  bandage that she fiddles with on occasion. Right now she is enjoying the 
  smells of freshly baked bread rising in the early morning air.

Sabrienna
Sabrienna is a pretty mongrel, if not leaning towards the exotic. Straight, 
  dark hair is clipped straight across her forehead, shoulder length strands 
  tucked behind her ears. Her almond shaped eyes are dark pools of rich brown, 
  dark-lashed and inviting. An earring pierces the upper left corner of her 
  ear - a mottled purple of something probably glass. She moves with an 
  uncanny grace through the streets of Haven - both welcome and unwelcome.
        Her clothes are a mismatch of the races in Haven. Discarded, patched 
  wide-legged trousers were "borrowed" from a lad who rode the seas. A 
  squared, silken top nearly too small for her has lost most of its 
  embroidery, but not its usefulness clings to her chest, atop the shirt is a 
  boxy jacket of her own making. In the colder weather, she wraps a tattered, 
  plain edged toga around her to keep her warm, the length of it covers her 
  twice over. Her shoes were of soft Empyrean leather, perhaps a bit too big 
  for her, worn in the toes, taken at one time from a young soldier at the 
  baths. Her clothes may not be new, but they are useful and kept clean as is 
  her body. And sometimes her mind.

Early morning. Richard's least favorite time of the day -- it's an hour when a 
  man's liable to turn introspective, especially if he's been up all night. 
  And he has. Still, though, despite the relative lateness of the hour of 
  _him_, he somehow manages to look merely comfortably disheveled, rather than 
  exhausted or even vaguely tired. Seemingly a mobile piece of night himself 
  with the dark clothes he favors and his midnight hair, he slips into the 
  Rialto on nothing more than a mission of kaffe acquirement -- well, kaffe 
  acquirement with a side of information. "The whisper is ye're lookin' to see 
  me," his voice sounds out of the lightening gloom, not far from Sabrienna.

Into the Rialto comes a newcomer to Haven. A tall, elegant Empyrean woman 
  followed tightly behind by a /huge/ mongrel body-guard and a single servant. 
  The woman walks with an air of command and yet her voice is never raised. 
  She pauses at a corner to survey the damage to the Rialto before making her 
  quiet way over to the food vendor's tents.

Sabrienna stretches her arms up in the air and readjusts her position, much 
  like a cat. She doesn't look at him at first, instead taking a quick 
  inventory of the Rialto. "Hello yerself, Richard. Ye keep talkin' t'me like 
  that..." Giving him a broad wink reminiscent of those at the Siren's Song 
  she laughs softly. "Yea, I were lookin' for ye, but not so hard as I know 
  where I might find ye." She sighs. "Times 'ave been busy, no?"

Richard appears out of the lessening dark in the wake of his own voice, 
  settling gracefully down to sit next to Sabrienna. At that wink of hers, the 
  kind of wink he's gotten from many of the Song's fetching lasses, he offers 
  up the same response that wink usually gets: a quick flash of his lopsided 
  smile, enough to let white teeth flash briefly against his pale face. "Busy, 
  aye." He doesn't comment upon the woman's failure to find him; his 
  countenance remains serene. "'Tis good to see ye made it through the quake."

Sabrienna says "The quake, that beastie..." She shrugs it all off, but the 
  smile has faded from her lips. At her own words she sits up straighter in a 
  unconscious response. "I was lookin' t'see if ye had any more room in yer 
  buildin'? Got an employer who don' like seein' me inna tent. Got t'admit it 
  were gettin' tired." Hard eyes gaze on Richard for a moment as if taking him 
  all in. "Yer lookin' good, considerin'."

A soft slightly high pitched voice rises slightly.."Arys..go see" as the 
  Empyrean gives a directive to the bodyguard. As the man slips off, Dulcinea 
  approaches the stall that sells mulled wine at the hour guided by the scent 
  on the air.

Richard's certainly physically whole, which is more than be said of many of 
  the men of more than one race who'd gathered together to try to fight off 
  the sea-creature. A slight smirk replaces the smile he'd worn before; a 
  glint of irony touches his eyes. "I'm unhurt, mostly since it's nae a 
  warrior I am by trade, nor a mage by birth or talent, or for that matter a 
  God-King. There wasnae bloody much I could do to yon great beastie that 
  wasnae being done already by the ones who could get closer and do a lot more 
  damage than just pickin' its pockets, eh?" Irony, too, tinges his drawl; is 
  this man perturbed that he could not help more against the beast? He doesn't 
  give much time for that speculation, however, as he goes on, "Aye, there's a 
  room free in Gelthurn's place, but I dinnae know if ye'll want it. The last 
  tenant was a mage and didnae die pretty when the magic went awry."

Timin enters the Rialto from the western part of Main street.
Timin has arrived.

Dulcinea pauses as the mongrel body-guard returns offering only a cryptic "Yes 
  Dea Nemeides" in response to her raised eyebrow. She nods slightly and 
  continues on toward the stall. At the merchant's query she smiles slightly 
  and orders 3 mulled wines. Surprisingly thoughtful of her servants.

Sabrienna flinches. "Ye know how t'sell a room, Richard." She makes a face at 
  him and pulls one of her knees up to hug. Her gaze goes to the voice and 
  then watches the bodyguard search for wine. Interesting. "Well, I'll take a 
  looksee if ye think it would do any good. And..." she adds in afterthought. 
  "I saw ye go after Nox, Richard. An' I were almost worried."

Is it still nighttime? At least it's summertime, in any event. Takes the edge 
  off of the evening/morning chills that tend to arrive when the sun is still 
  in bed. In any event, day, night, whatever, Timin's meander will be under 
  cover of hood, and preoccupied. He should be shopping in the Rialto, as is 
  typical. You can by all *sorts* of great junk here for resale.

Oriane soars in from the skies above.
Oriane has arrived.

"Gelthurn'll be tryin' t'sell the room cheap, now that he's had a stone-mage 
  in to get that poor sod outta the floor," comes Richard's answer to the 
  Mongrel woman with whom he converses. A strange, tight little expression 
  flashes across his face at Sabrienna's latter words, though, before he hides 
  it behind another small smile. "Nox'll be fine," he says then, but his voice 
  turns a tad gruff as he does. In search of a distraction, as well as out of 
  his own habit of regularly surveying, his surroundings, he follows his 
  companion's gaze across the way to the winged Dea and her attendants -- and 
  freezes where he sits.

The Empyrean woman seems intent on something that troubles her judging from 
  the frown that creases her otherwise lovely brow. At a nod and a sigh from 
  her the bodyguard slips off again..leaving the woman and her servant alone 
  at the table to converse quietly.

Sabrienna feels the bench join Richard in his sudden tension, but perhaps it 
  is her imagination. "Richard?" Her voice goes low as she tries to figure 
  what set him so on edge. Again, her eyes sweep the Rialto noting as the sun 
  raises so does the population. Awareness ripples through her. Having worked 
  with her benched companion before, she is wary to touch his arm in case he 
  moves before he thinks.

A small flock of Empyreans appears in the sky above the Rialto, angling in for 
  a landing. Among their white wings, one stands out particularly strong with 
  her black wings, black hair and easy, graceful landing. Following her are a 
  guard in Tritonis livery, a young but sturdy looking servant, and finally an 
  older gentleman who appears out of breath as he keeps up with the younger 
  ones. It's a hardy Empyrean who can still continue to fly well into their 
  later years. As the three men set about their business, Oriane follows at a 
  slower pace, apparently having come along for her own purposes rather than 
  the house's.

Nothing particularly extraordinary in immediate view in the still as of yet 
  fairly uncrowded marketplace: merchants yawning and setting out their wares, 
  farmers coming in with carts drawn by sleepy-eyed, lop-eared mules, a stray 
  dog scampering along with a purloined tidbit of meat seized triumphantly in 
  his little jaws. For several breaths, as Sabrienna watches him watch the 
  rather normal state of things in the Rialto, Richard says nothing. And then, 
  the arrival of Oriane and her retinue soaring down from above seems to 
  distract him. His blue glance jerks with uncommon swiftness towards the 
  darkling woman, and for a fraction of an instant, Sabrienna might, just 
  might, notice a flinch of a muscle in his cheek. His voice, however, is 
  entirely conversational as he remarks, "I hadnae known House Nemea was in 
  town. Fascinatin'."

Nox arrives right into the thick of the Rialto from the southwest.
Nox has arrived.
Nox returns once more to the marketplace, already the second time tonight. The 
  bitter herbs eased away the pain, yet he did not manage to find any sleep. 
  So he slinks through the alleys of southern bordertown, finding his way into 
  the Rialto, a faint smell of saltwater accompanying him.

Wine. Y'know, that bodyguard has the right idea. Mulled wine would bring a 
  (very) early morning to a wonderful start. Forget that 
  no-drinking-before-noon guideline. It's never too early. So some halfbreed 
  scum will be wandering over in the direction of those aforementioned swan 
  guards (they know where everything is, apparently), to push back that hood 
  with absent hand. Timin will finally secure a cup of wine with a bit of coin 
  and patience.

Into this rather quiet scene comes a disgruntled shout.."Let me go Arys!" as a 
  young Empyrean girl is propelled forward toward the wine stall by the Dea's 
  bodyguard..gently propelled actaully despite the young girls protestations. 
  Sndowy white wings on a slightly awkward adolecent body are at odds with the 
  long stark black hair that shines in the dawn light and the angry dark black 
  eyes. Finally ending up in front of the stately matron the girl offers a 
  sullen "Ave, Mother"

Sabrienna narrows her eyes and glances back at the empyrean woman. "Don' know 
  of it." She marks the information and tucks it far away in her brain. Now 
  her guard is up, like a wash of kaffe through her system she is wide awake. 
  Noting the scholar, and the rest of the troupe she stands, but remembers her 
  bandaged hands. So much for a days work.

Richard's attention has returned to his companion now. Looking Sabrienna up 
  and down, he inquires of her, "D'ye wish me to tell Gelthurn ye're after 
  takin' the room, then?"

Enrikos and his assistant immediately veer off towards one of the mongrel 
  merchants setting out fresh produce for the day. Though the young assistant 
  might grumble at the early hour, Enrikos has been in charge of the 
  Tritonides kitchen long enough to know when to get the best foods at the 
  market. The Guard lingers back, trying to keep an eye on Oriane despite her 
  tendancy to wander independantly. Off in another direction, she lingers by a 
  silk merchant's stall, looking over the pieces just being put on display.

Sabrienna shrugs, mostly to herself. "Yea, why don't ye? A dead mage is 
  better'n dealin' w'un that is still alive and left stuff."
Sabrienna winks at Richard. "Ye'll put in the good word fer me, eh?"

Dulcinea sighs.."Moirae you were supposed to stay home and watch Momus." but 
  that is all the reprimand she'll give in public. The girl kinda moves the 
  background by the servant and bodyguard with slightly sullen expression. The 
  woman finishes her wine and rises murmuring I think we should return now"

Nox makes his way over to Sabrienna and Richard in a quiet, controlled pace, 
  yet not before studying the odd assortment of Empyreans present. Especially 
  Dulcinea's young company gets a curious examination, along with a slight 
  look of pity. It seems like the moon colored them all a bit darker today. 
  Must be the moon.

Now that Sabrienna is on her feet, Richard rises easily to his own. "I'm not 
  long awa' from returnin' there, so I--" Once more his attention flicks back 
  the little group surrounding the white-winged Dea, and now the way he 
  blanches is unmistakable even in the wan early morning light. "Sweet 
  merciful Tyche," he croaks -- not even seeing Nox approach yet.

Now, there is wine. And now, life is good. Timin will finally begin his wander 
  with cup in hand, to examine the offerings of the Rialto at large. Trinkets 
  and gadgets and worthless lil' carvings are hard to find, if you want *good* 
  ones. Lazy steps.

Sabrienna rubs her nose and wonders what got Richard in such a frenzy. She 
  notes Nox's approach with a wide smile. "Did ye some sleep?" Of course she 
  knows he did not, since they spoke not long ago at all. A gentle hand is 
  laid on Richards arm briefly, strokingly, then returns to her side.

Casperia soars in from the skies above.
Casperia has arrived.

Dulcinea 's little entourage follows her out. Her daughter moving to her 
  mother's side to receive a brief yet warm exasperated smile that does much 
  to drive the sulleness from her eyes. The little group passes quiet close by 
  the two conversing mongrels though of course the Dea does not truly take 
  note of their presence.

Delicate inkstained fingers wander carefully over a bolt of royal red silk. 
  Oriane seems tempted by the fabric and despite her dark wings, she looks 
  wealthy enough to cause the merchant to grow hopeful. Something catches her 
  attention, though, and the darkling Tritonides looks up towards the passing 
  retinue and watching mongrels.

Both Nox and Sabrienna, close to Richard, are in an excellent position to see 
  the way the man's dark azure gaze rivets now upon one of the little group 
  surrounding Dulcinea: the dark-haired, white-winged girl. It takes much to 
  startle the Rook -- but still, his eyes have gone slightly wider, his frame 
  has gone rigid with shock, and he shows no sign of seeing anything else as 
  that youngster passes near.

Nox joins the conversation with Richard and Sabrienna, still clutching his 
  cloak close to his body. "Not much," he admits with a weary shake of his 
  head. "Ave, Sabrienna, Richard." A wry grin forms on his face, "Thinkin' 
  about living in Gelthurns place? Let me know if he tries to cheat on you or 
  treats you bad. He shuold remember me, and that alone should make him stop."

Sabrienna slyly follows Richard's gaze. That child. Richard's reaction. She 
  shakes her head and steps in front of Richard as if her petite form would do 
  much good in blocking him if the Domina hapened to look over. Her attention 
  is torn from the child and refocuses on Nox, whom she gives another smile. 
  "Gelthurn a cheat? Hm. Well, I ain't too worried. But I'll keep ye in mind." 
  She gives the dark empyrean a brief squeeze.

The young girl her mother called Moirae, an ancient word meaning fate, catches 
  the blue eyes mongrels intent gaze with a curious one of her own though her 
  step keeps up with her mother as the group leaves the Rialto.

Gliding-Eagle is lured in from the north by the aroma of baked goods.
Gliding-Eagle has arrived.
Gliding-Eagle steps through a tall set of gates and enters Delphi's grounds.
Gliding-Eagle has left.

With a few lazy circles in the skies overhead, the form of yet another 
  Empyrean begins its slow descent, scintillating arches of gold and white 
  stretched out to their full lenth and slashing languidly at the air with 
  sharp flight feathers. A few powerful bats of those wings to slow her 
  flight, and the shape of Casperia finally takes ground, neatly and close to 
  the center of the marketplace. Brassy hands move down to straighten skirts 
  over rounded hips in an idle manner, as half-lidded, almost bored-seeming 
  eyes sweep over the square, taking in the woman's surroundings from under a 
  veil of lowered velvet lashes.

Dark eyes watch the Nemeides family pass and also watch the young girl with 
  dark hair and white wings. Oriane stares and doesn't even seem to hear the 
  merchant regailing her with the quality of the merchandise.

Sabrienna might step before him, but she doesn't do it before Richard manages 
  to meet the dark eyes of that young Empyrean girl. But then the House Nemea 
  group is going on its way, and Sabrienna is before him and Nox is beside 
  him, and Richard is shaking himself like a man waking from a dream. 
  "Wh-what?" he blurts.

Nox winces a bit as Sabrienna's squeeze brushes over one naked black wing, but 
  does use the opportunity to squeeze back in a friendly manner. Richard's 
  gaze is observed in a worried way, and once more, Moirae's steps are traced 
  by violet eyes. Or perhaps more the way she is treated by her mother, and 
  the other bystanders. "I don't trust or like him much, that Gelthurn," he 
  offers absent-mindedly to Sabrienna.

Unaware of the stir her family's presence caused..or maybe aware but uncaring 
  Dulcinea makes her graceful exit from the Rialto. She and daughter spreading 
  their wings and taking flight..leaving the servants to make their way home 
  on foot. The servants take the oppurtunity to look around the Rialto and 
  perhaps purchase a few trinkets in the absence of their mistress.

"Richard," Sabrienna's voice comes out much harsher than she'd wish. "What's 
  wrong?" All this due to a few moments in the Rialto. "Don't ye feel well?" 
  More merchants open their tents and booths to the people. She feels the 
  pressure to break up their little group.

"I'm.... fine," Richard rasps, his velvet tenor coming back from that husky 
  croak with a conscious effort of will. His gaze flashes back and forth 
  between Sabrienna and Nox, as he seems not entirely able to settle his 
  attention firmly upon either of them. "Gelthurn'll be swayed, havin' a man 
  melt into t' floor does put somethin' of a damper on the sellability of th' 
  room..." The words come steadily enough out of him, demonstrating that he 
  had absorbed at least something of the conversation, but there is still a 
  strange distance to his tone.

Yawn. What did she come here for anyway, in the first place? Those slim hands 
  of Casperia's move from straightening the silk of her chiton and up to brush 
  through the dark red tresses that flow down her frame and lick the sides of 
  her face. Saunters does she, then; picking a direction seemingly at random 
  and beginning to make her way down one of the lanes, large wings slightly 
  unfolded behind her back and held high, the lowest feathers gliding well a 
  foot above the unworthy ground beneath.

Timin has left.

Brow furrowing faintly as the young darkling disappears, Oriane rustles her 
  own black wings and then sighs to herself. Turning her distracted attention 
  back to the merchant, she bobs her head in a noncommital half nod and then 
  moves on towards a merchant whose booth has just opened up. The darkling 
  scribe needs more ink.

Sabrienna says "S'ye sayin' he'll be more fair?" She chuckles softly. "I guess 
  we'll see about that." Any other concerns she snuffs. that done, she 
  announces, "I'll be gettin' m'self some fried sweet bread, are ye 
  interested?"

Nox takes a step to the side, so he stands right in the line between Richard 
  and where the Dea and her girl flew off to. He thinks for a moment about 
  stretching his wings to block the view. Bad idea! At the merest flexing, he 
  can feel the pain again, so drops them down again. "Richard," he speaks 
  quietly in his soothing, low voice. "Why don't we just head out of here, to 
  a more comforting place? Care to come to the Song? I'll invite you to a mug 
  of ale." Or anywhere where there aren't even more people reminding Richard 
  of....something. Whatever it is.

The Song. Ale. Sweet bread. Richard finds all of these appealing distractions, 
  but even as he flashes his two companions another glance, his attention 
  still goes off over Nox's shoulders and past his mutilated wings. "Gimme a 
  moment," he murmurs, then, stepping around Mongrel and Empyrean towards the 
  Nemeides servants still remaining in the market. As he goes his demeanor 
  changes, all signs of discomfort slipping out of his expression and stance. 
  Entirely casually, sounding like nothing more than a curious bystander, he 
  waves down the big Mongrel bodyguard. "Ave," he calls lightly. "Couldnae 
  help but notice -- that was Dea Nemeides, aye?"

A varati woman hurries through the Rialto and comes to a narrow tent. It does 
  not look like much, and even as she 'sets up' it still does not seem like it 
  would be anything good. But soon the wares come out - fine clothing 
  embroidered with careful, beautiful stitches. There is something for all 
  here, although the Varati crests are far more noticeable. A basket of 
  charms, rings, pouches and ribbons is quickly dropped as a small table is 
  set up in front of the tent flaps. Fanning herself, Ihlini Zarah stands 
  readied to do business, eyes dark with her recent fluster.

Melete enters the hustle and bustle of the Rialto from the northeast.
Melete has arrived.

The huge man who could not be anything other than mongrel looks down in a 
  friendly way at the man addressing him..perhaps a spark of recognition in 
  his eyes..but then again maybe not. "Aye that be the Dea anddaughter..the 
  little sprite ferever be sneakin' outta the house t'followin' her mother." 
  the large man sighs.."it be better fer the House if the little one be 
  keepin' a low profile if ye know what I mean.."

The tall redhead Empyrean continues her slow spanculating down the lane, wings 
  moving in a lazy lumber in perfect rhythm with the sway of hips with each 
  step. Stopping at a stall here, halting at a booth there, Casperia casts 
  glances over the wares presented, even exchanging a few pleasant words with 
  a merchant now and then. No purchases are made as of yet though, and soon 
  she is moving once more.

Nox blinks at the approach of Richard, just looking startled as the mongrel 
  steps past him. Scratching himself absent-mindedly on a wound at his wings, 
  he turns back to Sabrienna...just to let out a wince of pain. Scratching was 
  also an awful idea. Trying to follow the conversation between the bodyguard 
  and the Richard, he leans over to the woman at his side, "Sabrienna?" he 
  mutters, barely audible. "Did any of those nobles speak their name, before 
  Rich approached them?"

Sabrienna shakes her head and whispers softly back, "No, but 'e mentioned 'e 
  didn' know House Nemea was in Haven."

Known by the merchant selling the ink she needs, Oriane makes her purchases 
  rather quickly and effortlessly. With a quiet smile for the elderly mongrel, 
  she turns away with the assurance that her bottles of ink will be delivered 
  to the Palladium. The official reason for coming here taken care of, the 
  darkling noblewoman begins wandering through the marketplace to simply 
  browse.

Nox wraps one arm around Sabrienna's shoulder and leads her a bit away from 
  the others, towards the edge of the market place. His voice is still hushed 
  as he whispers to her, never letting Richard slip out of the corner of his 
  eyes.
Nox mutters, "... was... he... it?... you... hear... interest..." 

Ihlini brightens as she looks at the shopping Empyreans. One cannot see her 
  face, but her eyes warm with a welcoming smile.

Sabrienna moves with Nox, head bowed towards him. She does not so much reply 
  as shakes her head at his words.

The very picture of casual indifference, Richard merely lifts his dark 
  eyebrows at the Mongrel bodyguard's apparently guilelessly offered 
  information. He bobs his head a time or two in understanding, musing 
  knowingly, "Oh, aye, if they've got 'em a darklin' gel that's gotta be a 
  kick in the gut for 'em." The big crooked smile he offers both of the 
  servants invites them into shared confidence, the easy camaraderie of 
  Mongrels who have long observed the bemusing actions of Empyrean masters. "I 
  worked for an Empy House a couple years back, an' I swear, if there's 
  anybody they get cranky over more'n'us, it's them dark 'uns, y'ken?"

Arys, Dea Nemeides bodyguard grins broadly..thumping Richard on the back.."Oh 
  Aye..the gel annoyed Cleon and annoys Erasmus ..they both be tryin' t' 
  pretend that she no be existin' ye ken? But the Dea?? Fer all her snooty 
  ways there no be denyin' she be lovin' Dom'na Moirae , even t'the point of 
  arguin' wit Dominus Erasmus 'bout the wisdom o'brinin' the gel t'Haven. The 
  Dea would no be denied though she no wanted t'be parted from her."

As that amber-sprinkled gaze falls upon the stall of Ihlini's, one mahogany 
  brow draws up slightly on Casperia's forehead. A slow smile spreads over red 
  lips, and without much further concideration, the winged one starts making 
  her way over towards the Varati woman's tent, sweeping over the wares 
  displayed with those sultry eyes as she walks.

Ihlini bows her head at the Empyrean's approach. "Domina," her voice even and 
  kindly. This merchant has been in the business for a long time now selling 
  to all types of peoples. Her hands sweep gracefully over her wares.

Easily outsized by the big brawny Arys, Richard nevertheless takes his 
  thumping and returns it with a light mock-slug to the man's beefy shoulder. 
  As he does, he shakes his tousled ebon head in apparent wonderment about the 
  oddities of the Children of Air. "Th' way I see it, they all got wings, so 
  what's the problem? I mean, Tyche! It's like pickin' on a man for what color 
  hair he's got. Never understand 'em, long as a live." Heaving a sigh, he 
  then smiles amiably and adds, as if to demonstrate that he does on the other 
  hand clearly understand the minds of Mongrels, "You gonna be in town a 
  while, head down to the Song an' tell 'em Richard sent ye, aye? They'll pour 
  ye up a beer for me. See ya round, eh?"

Sabrienna would have nudged Nox and nodded to Richard's generosity but for her 
  consciencity of his wounds.

Nox nods to Sabrienna, as if it reassured something he thought. His grip on 
  Sabrienna losens slightly, but the touch still remains friendly. As his eyes 
  flicker, wandering through the Rialto, he catches sight of Oriane. He holds 
  the gaze for a moment, then mutters to Sabrienna, "'xcuse me for a moment! 
  I'll be right back."

Arys grins toothily.."aye will do..Hope t'be seein' ye around. Always a good 
  thing t' be makin' friends aye??" at that the large man and the old gnarled 
  woman who also gives Richard a /toothless/ grin make their way out of the 
  Rialto.

Having wandered closer to the conversation between two mongrels, Oriane 
  glances up to watch and listen to Richard and Arys. Dark eyebrows furrow 
  faintly as her black wings refold tighter against her back. Quietly, her 
  gaze turns back to the baubles on display at the merchant stall before her, 
  but her ears remain open and listening.

Not having a hat to wear to doff, Richard politely bobs his head at the pair 
  of Mongrels instead, stepping back to let them go on their way. He turns, 
  his expression shifting as soon as he's out of the servants' line of sight, 
  the casual mask shifting for a fraction of an instant to show a spark of 
  intensity beneath. His azure gaze tracks momentarily over the nearby figure 
  of Oriane -- but if he's aware she was eavesdropping, he gives no immediate 
  sign of it.

"Mm," comes the murmured greeting of Casperia as she comes to a halt in front 
  of Ihlini's booth, voice the soft caress of satin slipping over bare skin. 
  The Varati beauty is graced with a lazy glance with those deep green eyes, 
  unexpressive as usual, before the Empyrean returns her attention to the 
  trinkets on the counter. "I was wondering... you do not happen to have that 
  kind of bells... the sort Varati dancers keep around their ankles?" A 
  certain tinge of amusement creeps into her voice at that, and the smile 
  lingers.

Sabrienna is left to her own devices. This could mean many things, but this 
  time around it means she is heading towards the fried bread booth. She knows 
  the merchant well, and when she shows she has coin he is actually friendly. 
  Dough is quickly dipped in the heated oil and removed, slid onto a broken 
  plate. Sabi adds cinnamon and dark sugar, topping it lastly with honey.

Grace enters the Rialto from the western part of Main street.
Grace has arrived.

If the varati woman is surprised her eyes do not flicker. From a basket tucked 
  behind the tent flaps, Ihlini pulls a chain with small bell clusters. It 
  jingles fainly in her hand. She holds it out as if it is a fine piece of 
  jewelry rather than a bauble. If there is any disdain it is laced delicately 
  through the nuances of her voice. "They are common, Domina, at many shops. I 
  have used such as these many times and even in the most active of dances, 
  the clasp will not come undone."

Sabrienna stands in the middle of the Rialto eating fried bread topped with 
  spices and honey.

Lifting her gaze perhaps a bit too soon, Oriane meets Richard's blue eyes for 
  a brief moment. Black wings flare with a soft rustle of velvety feathers and 
  a breeze rushes through the bustling morning Rialto to ripple the canvas 
  canopies some merchants use. Cheeks pinking at being (she's sure) caught 
  eavesdropping, Oriane drops her dark eyes once more and continues to 
  absently finger the glass baubles for sale before her.

Nox slips away from Sabrienna's touch, to casually, slowly approach Oriane. 
  The merchants around the dark-winged woman stare at Nox in disgust, hoping 
  their annoyed glared alone will drive him away. Sure, they're both 
  darklings, yet she is a woman of grace, noblesse and /money/, where as he is 
  only a street-rat in rough, worn clothing, who even lacks most of his 
  feathers. Nox just ignores them and inclines his head to Oriane, speaking 
  softly, "Ave, Domina Tritonides? Can I have a word with you? It'll only take 
  a minute, and I'll be on my way again."

SunHawk is lured in from the north by the aroma of baked goods.
SunHawk has arrived.

Lyranthe is lured in from the north by the aroma of baked goods.
Lyranthe has arrived.

From the north come a pair of individuals, one winged, the other bearing 
  longswords where feathers would otherwise exist. Lyranthe and SunHawk appear 
  to be engaged in a conversation of moderate weight, suited for walking. "Did 
  I say something to distract you?" he inquires, eyes glimmering with 
  heretofore unrevealed humor.

"Dom'na," murmurs Richard to Oriane, inclining his head to _her_, too, but 
  with a rather more graceful, subtle motion than he'd used before. At the 
  same time he sees Nox draw near, and he flicks the younger man a now 
  impassive glance as he turns to slip southward out of the Rialto. Whatever 
  possessed him at the sight of the Dea Nemeides -- and the maiden in her 
  company -- goes out of the marketplace with him.

[End log.]