Arcana

Negotiations

Thyndle scratched his cheek, boredom taking over. Despite the initial allure and majesty Loronis presented, it was actually pretty lackluster. Well, what could you expect from the Entarians? Their city of lights was certainly a whole lot less impressive during the day. The millions of lanterns around them were empty now. According to Lura, they filled them with Lucklights, a cousin species to the Sprites, which were attracted to the food they put inside the lanterns. Supposedly, Lucklights were in surprising abundance around Loronis, which gave the city its fame. Thyndle rolled his eyes. Once again, taking credit for something that wasn't even their doing.

He supposed he shouldn't be too harsh on the Entarians. He was a mercenary, after all. Dirty, dishonest work was what he did every day. Perhaps he was just getting aggravated by the yelling merchants.

All around him, the bustling city thrived. He and Lura were waiting on Market Street, where vendors and merchants from all sorts of ethnicities had set up, offering a wide variety of wares and goods. Thyndle had been all over the world, and still was surprised at the wide range of cultures captured here. Lura had said it was the one place in Loronis that didn't belong to it; a haven for those hailing from any country. He surveyed the people: dark-skinned Nuk'ma with their long hair tied in complicated patterns, wearing long, flowing coats of fine silk. Dorethi farmers, clearly from just across the border, pale of skin and with curly black hair, called out to passerby about their goods. Various Herrionite merchants sold high-end alcohol and grains, their hands covered by those funny looking gloves. Even some Nuyen citizens, clearly of low Favour, were selling the natural fruits from their land. Of course, Entarians by far still dominated the marketplace, especially when it came to the shoppers, but their wares were much less interesting. Most of the Entarians about were lower class, as displayed by their Fradal—loose-fitting shirts of different colour, material, and design depending on the wearer's class. The Entarian nobles were few and rare, but their bright red Fradal caught the eye easily.

"Well, he sure is taking his time, for a nobleman," Lura remarked, her posture proper and her dress expensive. "Then again, maybe that is exactly the reason he's so late."

Thyndle didn't reply. They were waiting for a representative from the cityruler, who was supposed to have arrived some time ago. Early that morning, Brund had woken everyone up, announcing the cityruler of Loronis was to meet them that afternoon for negotiating payment in exchange for an undisclosed favour. Well, they were certainly the people to ask about undisclosed things. Handshakes in the dark were most of what they did.

Thyndle could definitely handle negotiations. He suspected that was why Brund had sent him and Lura to meet the cityruler; they were the smoothest talkers of the group. Quite frankly, that wasn't what was pestering him. Brund had been fuming when he discovered Ik had caused property damage to the inn's window, and had promised it would come out of his share. While Ik had been grumbling about the drop in pay, Thyndle had been pondering the Orae. What had it been that had disturbed it so thoroughly? He'd never seen anything like it. Maybe it was nothing, but his intrigue had been piqued.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stress about that right now. They were working. He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned against the side of a building. A droplet of water hit his nose. He opened his eyes, and noted a statue depicting a muscular, shirtless man holding what appeared to be a mountain in his hands sitting on the corner of the roof above him. The work was masterfully carved, Thyndle had to admit. He glanced around, noting similar statues decorating the roofs of the various buildings around him. The architecture of Loronis was certainly distinctive, with most of the buildings around him, the ones near the center of the city, being constructed of granite and engraved with beautiful, complicated wavy lines. It must have taken generations for all of these buildings to be finished.