What a tremendously beautiful winter morning it was. The air was crisp and cool, the sky was blue and sunny and the birds were chirping merrily, both those perched on the sides of buildings and those soaring over the heads of the Lómëdorian morning crowds. As ever, the city of Lómëdor was awake early; there were so many businesses in the city, from Inns to shops to simple market stalls, and in the world of business it rather goes without saying that the early bird catches the worm.
In the midst of the bustling crowd on the street, all of whom were setting up stalls or running to get supplies to their shops in time for opening, stood a very grey haired, stout little creature. He was well wrapped up in thick clothing, including a large scarf wrapped around his neck. It was barely visible under his beard and probably completely unnecessary, as undoubtedly his incredibly thick and long beard and hair was keeping his neck just about as warm as it was possible for it to be.
He was not frantically moving around and trying to get everything done in a rush like everyone around him. Instead, he was walking along slowly, moving just about as agilely as his old legs could take. He looked around at all the people scurrying around him, once or twice knocking into his side. ”Bah! Slow and steady wins the race!” he shouted out in his deep and gritty Dwarven voice to no one in particular, and as such no one paid any attention. ”You know, I was once in a race around the world with a dragon and I won standing completely still for the entire duration of the race! Slow and steady, I tell ya’!” he continued, again to no one in particular.
He carried on walking, mumbling incoherently under his breath. ”Aye, a big dragon he was too. Black as the night and his name… well, his name escapes me. I think it may have been Tom. Anyway, what relevance is that? Why did you even ask?” He finished, rolling his eyes and chuckling. Now that he had finished advising the young folk around him of how best to go about their day, his mind returned to the matter at hand… well, it would have done if he could remember the matter at hand.
He was up so early because he intended to buy something, that much he remembered, but he couldn’t quite recall what it was. He wandered on ahead, hoping to jog his memory and after just a few more moments of walking, his memory was very much jogged! He wanted to buy some food; meat, to be precise. He was running low on beef and rabbit, and a dwarf can’t survive on pork alone!
Unfortunately, he couldn’t quite remember where the nearest butcher was. ”Oi, you in the blue!” he shouted to a young male passerby who was wearing, well, green as it happens, but thankfully he looked around to Thogar anyway and he beckoned him over. ”D’you know where the nearest butchers is, laddie?” he asked gruffly. The young man smiled, relieved that he was being asked such an easy question; he had been initially quite concerned by being beckoned over by a rather frighteningly mad looking person.
”Yes, the nearest butchers is down there and to the left.” he said, pointing straight ahead to represent what he meant by “down there”. ”Right you are, thank ye’ kindly, boy!” he replied and then they stared at each other for a minute and Thogar’s expression became slightly glazed over and emotionless. ”Can I help you with something, lad?” he asked suspiciously, staring at the boy.
”Uh… sorry?” he replied, looking slightly confused and alarmed. ”I assumed you approached me for a reason! What did you want? Don’t waste my time now!” he said fairly aggressively and the young man in green stared back, highly confused by the behaviour of the old dwarf. ”Uh… you… wanted to know where the nearest butchers were?” he said tentatively.
”What gave you that idea? The nearest butchers are straight ahead and to the left! I’ve lived in Lómëdor for nigh on thirty years! I know the place like the back of my hand and I don’t need a brat like you to direct me to a bloody butcher!” he yelled rudely, attracting the attention of passersby for the first time. He stormed passed the helpful and confused young man and down the road… in the opposite direction of the butchers.
Zakiyyah could not help but admit there was some charm to a day such as today. Lomedor was as busy as it always had from the years since its creation, an icon of a capitalist society. Zakiyyah had no plot nor plan to ruin anyone's day as of yet, as Leila wouldn't let her. It was rather boring, her life had devolved into cooking and waiting. She preferred the cooking. The demoness was rather odd in that aspect, as she actually hated the taste of man. It happened to be too rotten for her tastes.
The archrauko was doing her own shopping this morning, having heard another merchant vessel slid in from an exotic, far away land. She had been too late to find bargains at the docks, so she was stuck in the streets trying to find a lucky merchant who had a chance to mark up the price of whatever exotic spice he had requisitioned. She sighed, even as flashes of memory assailed her mind. The temple maiden garbed demon had lived too long. Too painfully. All she had ever accomplished was perfecting the art of avarice. Not for gold, but for pain. Every day those memories tormented her. Every day she felt the looming shadow that draped every little thing she touched, how commoners feared her yet couldn't figure out why.
Ah, the memory of mammals! Half was who they were, half was that of their ancestors. Zakiyyah personally wished her attempts at giving herself amnesia had not failed so spectacularly. Then again, she hadn't thought the entire thing through, and red bricks in woman's leggings weren't the easiest of things to hit yourself with. Zaki pushed that memory as another slid in. She remembered when they hooked a kraken and tried to pull it back into port. The anarchy and riots that followed as the docks were annihilated was a crowning jewel in her terrible life, at least when she enjoyed such things. She was better now, even though her former power was seemingly as distant as the stars themselves.
Then her ears caught an exchange between a senile old man and a young man. Then again, she really didn't want to be senile, as that brand of insanity was somewhat unwitting. Zaki liked to know what was wrong with her, thank you very much!
"Ah, looking for a butcher?" Zaki murmured to none but herself. She drifted up behind the dwarf, and was careful to remain behind him. It brought her back to the days when she stalked a target unseen, unheard. A ghost, a bogey-creature from nightmare. She drifted along, her re-tailored temple maiden's dress interacting with the wind in a nearly playful manner, causing Zakiyyah to control the skirt of her dress with a hand. Feral eyes traced after the dwarf, and she darted after him, bulling aside people in the crowds. Why in the world was he going to the pleasure district instead of where the farmers and butchers were?
"Ugh. Perverted, lecherous old men." Zaki spat. The archrauko decided to stride alongside the old dwarf, his head barely coming to her hip. It made her question why there were half-dwarves almost immediately, but she chose not to linger on such a thought. Leila had probably received more terrible and disturbing lines of thought than any eight prostitutes. Zaki doubted Leila was too happy with the current arrangement.
"Dwarf. The butchers are not in the sinful alleys of this part of town." Zaki explained, trying her best to loom over him. If she couldn't make him repent via pain, she'd have to scare the ancient-looking creature to death. Or she could ignore Leila's commands and feel like a little girl who just killed mama's cat.
Well, mom made her eat the cat later to make certain it didn't go to waste. Back in those days, the demons weren't quite sure if humans were edible. When they did figure it out, Zaki got all the cows to herself, and she was rather pleased with the turn of events.
He had been walking for a minute or two, casually striding along with very little thought in his mind. He hadn’t actually been thinking about where he was going, but this just seemed to be the right way and that was enough for him not to question it. His absent mind was dragged back to reality by a voice at his side. "Dwarf. The butchers are not in the sinful alleys of this part of town." the deep and purposeful voice said.
The Dwarf stopped on the spot, thinking quietly. He did need to go to the butchers! He’d forgotten all about that, so it was a good thing this person was there to remind him. But how did they know he needed to go the butchers? And also, where exactly had he been walking to anyway? All these thoughts went through his head within a couple of seconds and in comparison to the ominous voice at his side, his own questioning of where he had been going seemed much less important.
”Aye, I do need to go to the Butchers…” he muttered under his breath, his head looking down and avoiding looking over at the person at his side. His hand crept slowly to his belt, where his small mace was placed… just in case. ”But may I ask… how ye’ knew that?” he asked quietly, and in that instant, pulling the mace from his belt and spinning on the spot to the person at his side. Well, he attempted to at least. Unfortunately, the mace became stuck in his belt and all he actually succeeded in doing was tugging at the top of the mace handle futilely and then flailing around wildly with nothing in hand.
This would have been a potentially life threatening mistake in certain environments, but this was not the case today, because the person he had turned to was a woman! ”Oh, you’re a lass! That’s OK then…” he said chuckling. He wasn’t a sexist individual, but he was very old and very traditional and couldn’t think of women as anything but perfectly innocent and naïve. ”You’re a big lass too!” he bellowed in a bemused tone, gazing up at the face of the woman. ”Were ye’ born this way or did someone stretch ya’?” he asked with a seemingly genuinely interested expression.
He looked around and realized that she was right and they were very much in the morally ambiguous section of the city, and he was quite thankful she had stopped him when she had! That was no place for a respectable man like himself! He gazed up at her face again, and she really was quite an intriguing looking being, though her long white hair was not quite as long as his own. ”So, young lady, why is it you’re following me around the back alleys of Lómëdor? Did ye’ want something, or do ye’ just enjoy stalking old dwarves like me?” he asked hostilely, gazing up at her.
OOC- Little short, sorry.