The pangs of noon's glare burned across the Nocturne's features as if he himself had ventured across the vastness of an arid desert. It was the worst of all forms of weather where the air was thick and dense with humidity, perhaps due to the collective perspiration of the several hundred merchants and vagabonds. Regardless, all seemed alike when their skins were oiled with bodily excretions thus making the breeze stale as the dried fish many were trading. Never had he particularly considered running an errand such as this in the past particularly that which required him to mingle with a mob of those who seemed to have been lacking the benefits of a bath. Etain, a woman whom Melandro had previously met, may have suffered from that very same depravity yet she was one and therefore bearable but these appeared to be beyond a thousand. Von Mortem would have worn a rag around his nose like a Bedouin mercenary had it not been for the evident inconvenience.
It was by his word that he would abide, to meet with one whom he had promised his company in spite of their last meeting's violent end. With the most unconventional location for an encounter in mind, Melandro had hoped that the otherworldly eyes of a husband would be lost in the crowd. Such proved to be true for little did the man know that such affair would not transpire this noon but upon an ungodly hour when the view of the sun would finally cease to exist.
The passage of time and the dwindling number of merchants led him to a stroll. To the district of the refined where intricate embroideries and skillfully crafted furnishings, he was a foreigner for this was the kind of place a mercenary such as he deemed to be the least of his priorities. The guild was already fully furnished as it is and the thought of curtains were simply far from his lack of a homely concern. Melandro knew not what brought him here. Perhaps it was out of sheer curiosity on where man spent the profits of his greed or simply the sight of a young pickpocket reaching for a wealthy woman's purse.
The boy must have been less than ten years of age yet he had already succumbed to a life of theft. Draped in rags and soiled in frame, the lad's lack of skill would draw the attention of the Lomendor guard. A chase would ensue soon after as the thief sped towards Obsidian's direction, dodging the crowds that blocked his path with the little energy malnutrition had to spare. It was interesting as to which side Melandro took this day where instead of easily taking the boy by the collar as he passed, he would extend naught anything but the tip of his boot thus leading to a series of fateful events.
A prideful noble who held his head high found himself toppling from his arrogant stride. To gravity he would give in. About time too. For the man was a reflection of both gluttony and greed as well. Melandro added in thought as he had a specific dislike for those who flaunted their wealth in the midst of those who lived in a hand to mouth existence.
The noble whose form was adorned with more pieces of jewelry than a woman would admit to possess in a lifetime found his descent softened by a barrel of apples, causing it to spill its contents upon the cobblestone street. Two loud thumps and the enforcers in pursuit would be sufficiently delayed for the child's escape. Von Mortem turned to scan the horizon with his azure pupils, made amber by the sun's final rays but the boy was no longer in sight. He could only hope that this chanced opportunity to evade the law would leave a message ingrained within the lad's mind.
It was by this momentary glance that an idea crept into his thoughts. A small establishment whose signage revealed of a tailor within became the focus of his attention. A smile caused a crease upon his cheek. A devious plan was abound.
Who would have expected that a man whose trade was centered in making others bleed found attraction in a dressmaker's shop. "Graceful Elegance" it was called. Never did he picture himself running through a selection of brightly hued garments much more the kind he had no interest in wearing.
The entire process of elimination lasted for hours for truly, could anyone expect one such as he to find an expertise in the latest fads in fashion? -- to actually have the talents within him to see the difference between pearl and diamond studs? All was made easier on the third hour when Melandro could have sworn that it was his fate to remain there till dawn. It was at that time that a certain young lady of simple beauty arrived in search of a wedding day's gown. Thank the stars for her counsel else Landro's inaccurate perceptions would have led to a tasteless garment purchase... mayhap that Ranyon dress that none cared to touch.
Weaved from the finest silk, the item he had finally chosen was the kind that shone in midnight beauty due to its lack of unneeded embroideries. Not meant for a formal occasion such as a ball, it existed for the sole purpose of bringing a glaze to one's eyes. He was fully aware that it would take more than an battalion of heavy cavalry to convince her to slip into such female delight but for the sake of amusement, it was worth a try.