Quietly through the Streets (Open, yay!)

[Black Cat]

Open to one other.

A near master of blending into crowds, Magnus walked softly through the streets of a city whose name he did not yet know, unnoticed by traveler or local alike.

The sun had yet to set, though his internal clock told him that that time would be fast approaching. Had his instinct not been enough, it was made clear by the manner in which the people of this city behaved. Shops seemed to be closing up, or at least preparing to. Children hurried home in a frenzy, anxious to be perceived as punctual, and not wanting to be scolded. Everywhere he could see lanterns were being lit in preparation, doors being locked, and shutters being sealed tight to guard whatever personal treasures lay in the dwellings of the citizens.

In this ordered world Magnus felt almost awkward participating. To make matters more irritating, he could only pretend he knew where he was going for so long a time. Still, he felt obligated to at least press on.

After the ferry ride he'd experienced only hours ago, it would seem pathetic to quit now.

Making his way along the main street, Magnus took silent notice of the people he walked amongst.

Poor yet happy, poor yet clean, poor yet relaxed.

"Quite a marvel for any city to be blessed with such productive denizens". He thought to himself as he took his steps. He would soon stop his gazing and thinking however, for fear of raising awareness to his presence.

"Surely, though" his thoughts picked up again. "Who would notice me?"

[Hamilton Calder]

For the first time in a long while, Calder was truly content.

Sitting cross-legged on top of an empty wooden crate, he breathed deeply. The smell of salt and fish was strong in the air, and, from off in the near distance the sound of shouts and footsteps signalled the arrival of another ship into the busy harbor. The Docks were Scara Brae's beating heart, and, even at this late hour, the city's lifeblood bustled along before him. Humans, mostly, but a fair number of dwarves and elves as well, and even a few other races that Calder couldn't recognize. Horses and other, more exotic beasts pulled carts laden with every imaginable commodity down the busy boulevard, out toward the markets and shops of the island's capital.

Smiling faintly, Calder took another bite of his dinner - some sort of tangy meat on a skewer that he had picked up at a nearby stall. The weight of his sheathed sword, which lay across his knees, was reassuring in a way he could never have imagined. His five years of secluded retirement, holed up in that cottage out near Valeena Lake, had been harder than he'd expected. How can a man who'd lived the freedom and challenge of the adventurer's life ever be expected to content himself with four walls and cooked fish for dinner every night? The feeling had come quickly, and had only worsened as the years went by - the desire to again know the open road, to live and die by his own wits and abilities. Before long, it had become unbearable. Finally, the news had reached his ears, news that had caused him to go back on the oaths he'd sworn and once more take up a blade. Fair Eluriand had fallen to the Necromancer, and he knew that the time had come for him to do his part.

Sitting in the midst of the bustle of the city, slowly chewing his dinner, watching the sun set gradually over the low warehouses with that slight smile on his face, he knew it had been the only way. For the first time in five years, he was heading home.

Calder's dark eyes moved back down to the pulsing crowd before him. This was a part of the Docks particularly known for pickpocketing and other forms of petty crime, and the Guard paid mercenaries handsomely for any work they did to clean up the streets. At his belt, Calder's coin purse was comfortably heavy, a sign of the success he'd had lately at that particular endeavor. A few more bounties and he'd have what he needed to make his way to Corone, and from there across to stricken Raiaera.

A tall human, clad in colourful white-and-gold robes that certainly marked him as a member of some order or other, caught the swordsman's attention. He moved slowly down the wide avenue, heading away from the water and into the city proper. Something about the way he walked, as if lost in his own thoughts, struck Calder as odd. This was a place of action, of purpose, and the unhurried way the man moved between the houses was in sharp contrast to the quick, determined stride of the merchants and dockworkders around him. The man glided by him, passing not more than five feet in front of the crate upon which he was seated, and from that close distance he was able to see the man's eyes, mismatched and darting forever about. The pair's gaze met, for an instant, and then the priest was past him and ambling further down the street. Calder stared after him, tracking him with his eyes until the crowd threatened to swallow him up.

That was different, the mercenary mused, curious. Scara Brae was a city of routine - even theft and murder were so commonplace that their occurence, while unwelcome, could never be called unexpected. This man, however, was an oddity, and something at the back of Calder's mind was determined to find out more. Muttering something about a wasted night, he finished his kebab in a single bite and bounced down off his crate. He slung his swordbelt back around his waist and set off after the priest, following at a fair distance so as not to be noticed, never taking his eyes of the long, black curls that bobbed above the crowd ahead of him.

[Black Cat]

The measured pace at which Magnus strolled made the rhythm of his steps almost hypnotic, creating an unusual mix of daydreams and thoughts. As his mind repeatedly entered and exited this-half dazed state, it found itself wandering back to the man he'd passed some moments ago.

A rogue swordsman of sorts, he concluded, whose earth colored eyes and hair reminded Magnus of the simple peasantry.

Magnus chuckled to himself, He might have taken offense at that, had he been able to hear it.

Then there was that sword he'd laid upon his knees. Though sheathed from view, Magnus suspected by the man's appearance that it was of polished steel.

Steel... he must have been well versed in his art.

Magnus quickly awoke from his daydreams however, when the realization that he was now facing a stone wall struck him. Taking a moment to ponder how he had walked into a front of cold rock, he reasoned that it really made little difference considering it gave him an excuse to cease moving.

He shifted in his robes to the point he knew he'd be comfortable, and sat himself upon the ground with his back to the wall of gray. The horizon before him was a colorful one. The pink and gold of the sky, though slowly giving way to twilight, still shone upon the crowds of people.

Some he saw were clad in wealthy garbs of noble colors, yet others looked as if they were wearing the dirt of the earth itself. Truly Scara Brae had an appreciation for the class system.

So the Queen wills... He thought, while counting his own blessings and curses.

What would the Gods bring him tonight? It was one of his favorite questions, as the answer was always indiscernible until after the fact.

[Dedalous]

(OOC: Sorry, I didn't see the warn off untill after i posted, can i still join anyway?)

I was flying over the harbor, enjoying the late afternoon thermals. It felt good, with the wind ruffling my feathers, the warm air on my wings, and through my fur. The smell of the saltwater, the tar, the sweat of working bodies, all permeated the air of the docks.
I noticed something out of the ordinary, a man who seemed to be wandering with no purpose. He seemed well off, important, and lost. That alone was enough to pique my interest, but the fact that he was doing this in the docks, where everybody had a purpose and got to it immediately, made him stick out like a sore thumb. I watched as a man stepped off of his perch on a crate or barrel, I couldn’t tell which at this height, and followed the man I was going to investigate.
So I wasn’t the only one that this man had interested, I thought. I began circling down to the ground, flaring at the last second and flapping my wings to brake my speed. I landed lightly on my feet, nodding to a startled dockworker, a human, who happened to be moving crates near where I had come to rest. I surveyed my surroundings, my more than six feet of height helping me in my search for this interesting man. He seemed like he was lost, not knowing where to go. As I was thinking this, he came to a wall, and paused for a second, seeming confused. He made up his mind and sat down, his back against the wall. He looked like he could use a warm bed and a meal. I decided to help.
I walked over to him, adjusting my bow in it’s quiver, and my katana on my belt, so as to seem less threatening. This area of town was well known for it’s thugs and thieves.
“Greetings, stranger, you look like you could use some help. Would you accept a room and a warm meal from me?”