Welcome

[Adrasteia]

Adrasteia listened to Qais, looking directly into his eyes. She saw the fear plainly on his face as though it was a new hairstyle. Interesting. She nodded her assent. “Yes. We have overstayed what little welcome we had. Lead on.”
She stood up, watching D. It looked as though she was about to say something when she stopped short.
She brought her hand up, as though to touch her temple and stopped, a far away and confused look on her face. “Poppies…” She mumbled, “I smell poppies…the cave…it’s dark…your problems will be no more.” She shook her head, straightening up. She started to walk forward, and stopped again. “The problems have just begun…” She trailed off, and walked after the newly acquired traveling companions.

[Qais Al'Din]

As Qais walked he listened to the tattooed man speak. He spoke as if what he was saying was a poem, though of course it could not be. He was talking to the woman in very poor Eethattian. With a smile Qais Al'Din thought of how terrible his accent was. Not many outsiders could get anywhere near the right sounds. Adrasteia was the closest he had ever heard to pure Eethattian from an outsider, and it still wasn't very good.

Suddenly, Qais felt as if he was walking alone. He looked behind him to see what had become of the foreigners, and saw one standing stock still, as if listening to something that he could not hear. The other was watching a few little etwae boys play in the sand on the side of the path. His gaze was so intense that Qais felt frightened for the children. They, however, did not seem to notice that they were being watched.

Adrasteia spoke many words in her own language that he did not understand, walked a few more paces, then stopped again. She spoke again, and then began to walk once more.

"Ah, m'lord? M'lady?" he asked, just to make sure they remembered he was there.

["D"]

After finishing his act of graffitti D stared out at the villagers watching them curiously seemingly deeply interested in even the most minor citizens. Then he turned suddenly at the boy's words, looking first to the youth, and then to Adrasteia. He looked at them as if they were strangers.

"Etwae and nymphs,
fire and dreams, all but a glimpse."-Traveller

Then recollection seemed to set in, and he looked to the boy, seeing that he was uncertain, possibly even uneasy, he approached the young etwae, and bent down at his knees to lower himself below the boys height. The traveller then looked the boy in the face with a friendly grin.
"Come, help."-Eathatian He managed to get out in that strange thick accent. D seemed to be aware the boy was still thoroughly uncomfortable so reaching into a satchel he produced a strangely twisted piece of wirery metal interlaced with small balls at the end of strings, it clinked slighty as some of the metal moved freely but did not seem to reperate. He offered the strange thing to the boy offering only "A riddle."-Eathatian as an explanation as to what it was, though it seemed to be a gift to make him more comfortable.

He then moved back toward the door and turning back to them called out. "Many lights are gone, we needs move feet to wants grasp a speaker of legends previous to then. "-Eathatian

He paused a moment seemingly displeased with how incomprehensible his words must have been, before adressing Adrasteia in a language he had greater profficiency with.

"It seems a few locals unfriendly.
Perhaps they wanted to end me.
We haven't the time.
To let them their crime.
So we had best get started our journey. "-Trade Common

(OOC: Does that sound like, "Hey this inn isn't very friendly, and there's work to be done, so let's get going"?)

[Adrasteia]

((OOC Yes it does, D))

Adrasteia continued walking towards the door, looking first to Qais, "Yes?" She asked in his native tongue.

She looked to D, stopping, and replied in Traveller, still with a hazy look on her face, the look of one that is not all of the way there,
"I have walked many dusty roads and cobbled streets
But nowhere to be found was a soul
Without atleast a little crime in their heart

Still many a moon it's innocence I entreat
And many more times I have been told
Of how long virtue and we have kept apart.

But the ebony bed beckons me to defeat
Such notions with poppies for control
One thing it clear, though, it is time to start."

She stopped again, this time to gather her thoughts.
"Yes, we go." She said in Eathatian and started to walk out of the door.

[Qais Al'Din]

Qais hated it when they talked to each other in a different language, but he wasn't about to say that. They were, after all, his masters...for the time being. He was no slave, and he was doing this of his own free will. Sure, the man could not speak his language, but the woman could, and should have been translating for him...but no, no of course not. They just conferred privately, totally ignoring the fact that he was there and possibly would like to know what was being said.

With a great sigh, Qais moved off into the Kulaan, maneuvering around the many people on the paths, hoping that the elf and the bald tattooed man were following, but not looking to check. He passed a small booth with a man shouting in loud Eethattian, "Masks, masks! Masks for the Feast of Kantrikalik! The finest masks in all of Kevald!" Curious, Qais paused to look at them, and was revolted by what he saw there. The masks were certainly not the finest in all of Kevald. They did not have any of the traditional symbols of the Kantrikalik Feast. He had not dyed the feathers, and the rings around the eyeholes were not blue, but green. With fury, Qais walked up to the vendor.

"These are not fit for even the lowest of peasants to wear! Kantrikalik certainly will not be pleased by them!" He paused for breath. The vendor looked astounded and guilty all at once. Obviously, he had known that his masks were cheap. "How dare you insult the Goddess in this way?" He took one of the masks and threw it on the ground, then slammed his foot into it so it shattered. "How dare you?" The man nodded numbly, and fell to his knees.

"Kantrikalik cleanse me. Lady of Storms, give me strength. Wash me. Wash me." the man's eyes reopened and he stared at Qais. "Please, please..." Qais snorted, unimpressed. His words were not even correct. He did not know what he was saying, he had obviously never been to a ceremony in his life, and he did not follow the ways of the goddess.

"Find someone else, for I will not wash you." With that, he strode off again, the elf and the bald man following him forgotten in the rush of emotions that had filled him. He paused suddenly, causing a person in front of him to shout and curse as he stumbled around him. With a quiet apology, Qais turned back to look for Adrasteia and the man. Luckily, they were still quite close behind him. People gave the tattooed man a wide berth, afraid of his tattoos or awed by the fact there was a foreigner in their midst. Adrasteia was not quite so noticeable, but she gave off an air that caused people to think twice before shoving past her.

He waited for them to come closer, and then asked, in a loud voice,

"And where shall we be going? You wanted to see a storyteller, correct?" He spoke in his own native tongue. He could not remember exactly what he was setting out to find. The vendor selling false masks had caused him to forget his plans.