Runic breathed deeply, taking in the various scents of the marketplace. It had been some time since he had last visited a city. He walked past the assorted vendors taking nothing more than a passing glance. Breads, vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and even a vendor selling useless trinkets to protect the gullible from the dangers so often told to children in old wives tales. He continued on, observing the bartering merchants, the children spending their allowances on sweets, and the occasional rat, racing along the ground in search of crumbs.

Runic smiled to himself, "So much to see and not nearly the time to see it." Runic glanced around again and frowned, "Alas, there isn't a single book vendor about who can offer me a means of satiating the creature that is my mind."

He pressed onward and yet not but a few paces had he gone did he encounter a young boy teasing a small girl, calling her names and kicking dirt at her. Runic frowned again and rushed to them.

He grabbed the boy's arm and tugged him away from the girl. "Now, now you little beast, why do you insult the little girl so?" The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Because all she ever does is pick stupid flowers, she never wants to play my games." "Ha ha! Is that all? Boy, you should know better by now. Did you ever think to ask her what she'd like to play?" The boy shook his head no. "Then perhaps you should try that next time. Now, run along."

The boy cocked his head quizzically at Runic as though try to figure him out. He shrugged, turned, and dashed off across the marketplace. Runic turned to the girl and helped her to her feet. She dusted off her clothes and looked up at Runic, one hand cradling her elbow and the other covering her mouth in a loose fist as though she was afraid that the words she would speak were offensive. "Hey, don't worry. I doubt he'll tease you any longer. Run along now." The girl hesitated a moment longer before bowing and squeaking out a soft "Thank you." She turned and walked away, disappearing into the hustle and bustle.

Runic stretched and yawned, "Where to now...?"

Nafalen wandered through the semi-crowded streets, fending off vendors of all sorts. He hated the square, but had to come back every once in a while just for fun. There was always something interesting going on in the square and today was no exception.

Nafalen say a man with white hair walking down a street. He watched as the man separated two children, a boy and a girl. Nafalen rolled his eyes, why was it that people always spoiled children's fun?

He walked past a fruit vendor, picking up a peach as he walked past. Rubbing it on his tunic Nafalen continued to follow the man. He bit into the fruit and the juices ran down his chin. He took a few more bites and wiped his face, throwing the half-eaten pear into a group of beggars. He stopped and laughed as they got into a fight over the measly peach.

Turning back to the road Nafalen continued to follow the milky-haired man. He kept back, in the shadows and in crowds, but remained relatively close to the man. Nafalen didn't really care if the man noticed him, he could defend himself well enough and hide just as well. Still, Nafalen wanted to see what the man would do next. He seemed like a good man and god people always made Nafalen laugh. They missed out on the fun in life he believed. As well as the wealth and pride.

He passed a merchant that had caught a young boy stealing from his stand. Nafalen stopped the man just before he cut the boys hand off. Nafalen paid the merchant for the goods and made sure the boy was well on his way before resuming on his way. He hated to see little-thieves go to waist. Nafalen continued to follow the man as he tucked the his recently acquired change purse into his pocket. It was good to have fast hands.

Runic had been entirely unaware of his persuer until the squabble between the beggars had occurred. He turned himself sideways and observed the man laughing at their pitiful state.

"I do not approve of either." Runic thought, "Terrible that he would exploit their shame... and yet... for most of them their poverty is of their own doing. They're the empty shells of men who have lost their pride and become lazy. They've forgotten the instincts they were born with that would give them everything they could need from the wilderness... alas you sad souls..."

Runic merely shrugged and continued down the path. Not soon after did a boy try to rob a vendor behind him. The merchant was prepaired to take the boys hand in payment. Runic stepped forth a pace but to his amazement, his pursuer stepped forth and paid off the merchant in coin. His amazement soon turned into a slight smile that played across his face as he watched the man pick the dim-witted merchant's pocket. He walked up to the man and faced him, "Please, walk with me." Runic didn't wait for a response but turned and walked away into the street. He had a feeling he would come since he felt they piqued a mutual curiosity of each other. Before wandering out of earshot, Runic spoke, "So, there is a sprig of good in you somewhere, although much withered i chance."

Nafalen watched the man walk towards him but did not show it. As he spoke Nafalen followed the man, a step behind him. Nafalen laughed when the man mentioned that there was good in Nafalen.

"No. There is not and has never been. If for some reason your eyes deceive you I am a drow. I was born, raised, and trained as a drow through and through. I even was even privileged enough of being my house's Weapon's Master for a time. I have done and seen things that you could not even begin to perceive," Nafalen was interested in this man now. "I helped that boy with the hope that one day he may become a great thief or assassin as the many I know. That and I fattened my purse in the process. Do not assume that there is good in me. I live for myself and my friends. None other."

Nafalen laughed at the man's complete and utter absurdity. Nafalen only committed acts of 'charity, and good-will' if it benefited himself in some way. He might even find a way to snatch this man's purse or even slit his throat. That would make Nafalen's day a complete success.

"Well if I am going to walk with you and you are going to try and convert me to the light, at least let me know your name. I am Nafalen, former Weapon's Master of the Sintelnor House. For the right amount of gold or incentive I can eliminate any number of your problems without trace."

This day might turn out to be entertaining after all. He might even find a new person to play mind games with. Nafalen was a master at mind games, especially when it came to heritage and culture.

"Ahahaha! My name is Runic Solais, oh contradictory one. To have friendship is to have some sort of good within oneself and someone who is truly evil has not friends but minions. Alas, to argue over what kind of person you are is fruitless seeing as no one knows you better than yourself." Runic chuckled to himself as he pondered Nafalen's comment on conversion.

"But please, I am no choir boy so relieve your mind of the thought of me bringing you to the light for two reasons. First, i don't give a damn what you or anyone else believes for i only care for facts, decency, and respecting the precious gift that is life. Second, and more obvious is that you and I both know that to change you is just as likely as eradicating chaos from the universe entirely."

Runic stretched and sighed. "Please, don't let me talk your ear off. You've piqued my interest with talk of being a former weapons master. Care to spin me a tale?"

As philo made his waythrough the waves of pushy, smelly people, he realized once again he remembered why he hated this horrid city. It is needless to say that philo was not a very social person. He found peace and tranquility in the silance of an empty study. He found regular people dreadful because of the lack of mantal depth and their reliance on commen vises such as alchohal. At the time and now he tolerated the indenent animals and pushed and shoved like everyone else. He then made a right into a narrow ally, this place was significantly less crowded except for the a thug who ran passed with his ill-gotten loot, the sounds of its former owner echoing down the corridor. He ignored the commotion as the thief brushed him. He continued down the ally and walked over a sewer vent that billowed fowl gas. He walked another five meters and made another right into the store.

He closed the door of the small shop behind him as his eyes ajusted to the dim candle light of the poorly lit room. He recognized this place, and the store owner recognized him not by name though, Philo had only been here once, maybe twice. The shop keep looked at him as he pushed his glasses up his pudgy nose so that he could get a better look at his customer. " I am interested in items of stationary." Philo said while fingering the few coins in his pocket. The man nodded and turned around to head in the direction of the stores supply. We have plenty of blank books for sale- oooh! and a beutiful quill I was just sold yesterday. It is peacock feather if I am not mistaken. Philo lowered his head while still keeping his eyes on the shopkeep as he spoke toleave the impression of humility "I am a man of few coins and simple taste". he stared blankly at philo for a minute, his eyes magnified by his glasses "Well...we have plentay of goose feather if that will suffice?" "Yes that would do nicely, thank you that and some ink, please." He gathered his customers requests and brought them to a desk in the center of the room that served as their exchange counter. "How much will that be, sir?" Philo asked while reching into his pocket that felt all the sudden empty. "thirty coins, kind sir." Philos eyes went wide as he counted the money in his hand...had left his money at home, all he had on his person was a small seven gold. " I sorry I seem to have mis-placed my money, how much for the quill alone?" "Five, sir..." "Deal. I will be back to claim the ink tomarrow." Philo placed the coins on the table, took his quill and turned around to leave. He opened the door and glanced back at the storekeep. "Good day." He said with somewhat of a monotone.