Taliel Escabre
08-15-06, 10:00 AM
(Closed to whatever character Cyrus joins this with...)
Bird and children hustled and bustled, mothers and shopkeeps shooed them away as the smell of goods wafted heavily in the air. Mutton, pies, roasts, turkeys, chocolates, and fruits all assaulted Taliel's nose, taking a heavy grip upon his collar and tugging them towards their various stands. Oh how his stomach ached for a good meal. He had not come to Radasanth to taste-test, however. He had come to peddle his goods, much in the same fashion that those around him were. The sounds from everywhere were joyous and happy, and all-together lightened the scribe's mood. He had traveled far from Raiaera, and was much happier in the presence of humans for a change. The respect the elves had for him only went so far, and even that was slightly diminished after he'd accidentally smashed a very precious artifact they had found.
But now Taliel was hundreds of miles away, enjoying the crowded streets, shouting vendors, and even- to an extent- the smelly beggars. It reminded him of how good he had it, even if things did not always look so shiny and nice. Sure, there had been times when the circumstances looked so bleak that he would have gladly taken the spot of one of the corner-sitters, holding out a small tin can and requesting hand-outs. But he had perservered, and was now much better off than these homeless folk.
Approaching a slightly empty corner, Taliel began to set up shop. He had rented a cart from one of the local merchants, and was only forced to pay twenty-five gold pieces an hour. Thinking he had found a deal, the scribe eagerly took advantage of the offer. The assembly of said cart, however, was quite an ordeal. He had been given little assistance by the merchant he had bought it from- the fat man stood and laughed at his insolence as he tried desperately to plug random wooden shaft 'A' into random wooden slot 'B'. Finally, once the cart was assembled, Taliel loaded his goods upon it and slowly wheeled it down the cobbled streets. This alone had been no easy task either, as each little chink in the ground would cause his stand-on-wheels to shutter and creak uneasily. The scribe took a deep breath, however, and continued.
Now that all had been set up, the scribe set to arranging his scrolls in exotic patterns and creative manners. At least, in his opinion they were creative. In reality all he had done was layer them and tack some fake scrolls up on the side of the cart and smiled to passers-by. It seemed common folk had little use for such scrolls, and even when the scribe worked up the courage to announce what he was selling, he was drowned out by those around him. Taliel soon realized that he had not quite chosen the best place to set up shop. To his right stood a man selling amazingly well crafted swords. Their blades were of a unique look, as well. Twisting and winding, their steel glinting in the bright sun that shone overhead. Men flocked to the stand, eager to purchase such weapons.
To his left stood what would normally be a rather bland attraction- an elderly lady handing out chocolates. However, once she had offered Taliel one, he realized out delicious each one was. It melted softly and surely in his mouth, the peanut butter that filled it so rich and creamy. It made his knees weak to think about it, but knew that his stand was easily outclassed.
Standing in front of his stand, back pressed against it so as to avoid being trampled by the shoppers, Taliel cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Crafting magical scrolls here! Spell scribe extraordinaire, open for business. For a mere 100 gold, you can conjure up a creature that will do house-hold chores for you! Get it here!" he yelled, trying his hardest to attract attention. Still nothing. The most attention he'd received all day was from the elderly lady, offering him a chocolate every so often.
Which he was obliged to take, of course.
Bird and children hustled and bustled, mothers and shopkeeps shooed them away as the smell of goods wafted heavily in the air. Mutton, pies, roasts, turkeys, chocolates, and fruits all assaulted Taliel's nose, taking a heavy grip upon his collar and tugging them towards their various stands. Oh how his stomach ached for a good meal. He had not come to Radasanth to taste-test, however. He had come to peddle his goods, much in the same fashion that those around him were. The sounds from everywhere were joyous and happy, and all-together lightened the scribe's mood. He had traveled far from Raiaera, and was much happier in the presence of humans for a change. The respect the elves had for him only went so far, and even that was slightly diminished after he'd accidentally smashed a very precious artifact they had found.
But now Taliel was hundreds of miles away, enjoying the crowded streets, shouting vendors, and even- to an extent- the smelly beggars. It reminded him of how good he had it, even if things did not always look so shiny and nice. Sure, there had been times when the circumstances looked so bleak that he would have gladly taken the spot of one of the corner-sitters, holding out a small tin can and requesting hand-outs. But he had perservered, and was now much better off than these homeless folk.
Approaching a slightly empty corner, Taliel began to set up shop. He had rented a cart from one of the local merchants, and was only forced to pay twenty-five gold pieces an hour. Thinking he had found a deal, the scribe eagerly took advantage of the offer. The assembly of said cart, however, was quite an ordeal. He had been given little assistance by the merchant he had bought it from- the fat man stood and laughed at his insolence as he tried desperately to plug random wooden shaft 'A' into random wooden slot 'B'. Finally, once the cart was assembled, Taliel loaded his goods upon it and slowly wheeled it down the cobbled streets. This alone had been no easy task either, as each little chink in the ground would cause his stand-on-wheels to shutter and creak uneasily. The scribe took a deep breath, however, and continued.
Now that all had been set up, the scribe set to arranging his scrolls in exotic patterns and creative manners. At least, in his opinion they were creative. In reality all he had done was layer them and tack some fake scrolls up on the side of the cart and smiled to passers-by. It seemed common folk had little use for such scrolls, and even when the scribe worked up the courage to announce what he was selling, he was drowned out by those around him. Taliel soon realized that he had not quite chosen the best place to set up shop. To his right stood a man selling amazingly well crafted swords. Their blades were of a unique look, as well. Twisting and winding, their steel glinting in the bright sun that shone overhead. Men flocked to the stand, eager to purchase such weapons.
To his left stood what would normally be a rather bland attraction- an elderly lady handing out chocolates. However, once she had offered Taliel one, he realized out delicious each one was. It melted softly and surely in his mouth, the peanut butter that filled it so rich and creamy. It made his knees weak to think about it, but knew that his stand was easily outclassed.
Standing in front of his stand, back pressed against it so as to avoid being trampled by the shoppers, Taliel cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Crafting magical scrolls here! Spell scribe extraordinaire, open for business. For a mere 100 gold, you can conjure up a creature that will do house-hold chores for you! Get it here!" he yelled, trying his hardest to attract attention. Still nothing. The most attention he'd received all day was from the elderly lady, offering him a chocolate every so often.
Which he was obliged to take, of course.