First Impressions [Tahir]

[Laurel L’Dyanne Remmy]

It seemed in the most recent weeks news of trouble and tension had spread throughout the lands, in every town there was whispers of what had happened that the Peace Conference that was suppose to unite the world without war. This of course...the idea of unity, however pleasant was not possible, or at least that was how Laurel found it to be as she rode into Hanko that morning.

It seemed that there were more guards around, more people with weapons. There was no surprise at this though, not for Laurel as she made her way to the bustle market place of the city after she'd settled at her inn. Every stranger was looked at funny, and she was given the same treatment as the innkeeper eyed her over, seeing her weaponless and with a full purse of coins though he gave her a room. She was thankful she did not come this way often save for the rare trip to get the seeds she would need for the herb garden once winter had left. While those in Niendra knew her as the daughter of a noble, the few she knew in Wyeshing simply knew her as a grounds keeper willing to pay top dollar for leaves and twigs as some put it.

She begun to travel further and further now out form the capitol, greatly to her family's dislike as it was getting to a point where with young noble men leaving to prepare for even the faintest idea of war many families were marrying their daughters so as to give them a place and power and gain for themselves as well before suitors were picked thin. Laurel managed her best to stay ahead of the messengers though and now in Hanko she knew that she would have to begin the trek home right after.

Scanning the markets she kept her heavy crimson cloak closed tightly over her clean, white linen shirt and the dark brown leather bodice over that. It was still cool today the cloak needed to ward off the morning breeze that the leather and light linen could not. The sky overcast, her hair pulled up under her hood as she moved from booth to booth gathering small things like dried meat and fruits for a lunch for herself, a few trinkets for the younger children of her family who she held no grudge against. Finally as she came to the areas of the shops and market stalls selling herbs and seeds, fruit and vegetable stands selling what grew best during this time. Laurel began her business...seeing many old faces and a few new ones. She could not count though the number of Carthonians she saw this close to the border. It was best to be on one's guard it seemed.

Stopping at one booth she began to barter with the man there. Thankfully the few years of travel had allowed her to pick up enough of the language to do what she needed, and soon gold coins were traded for several large bags as she gave him directions to the inn which she needed them brought. After a few more minutes of talking and joking they finally parted, this was the life that Laurel enjoyed, away from what she knew. It made her wonder just what it had been that had made peace so hard to be achieved when it seemed that most wanted just to live out their lives that way?

With a sigh she pushed her cloak away from body before her purse back at the belt of her tan leather pants before letting it fall back into place. Once more she began down through the market streets in search of more of what she would want and need before she was to turn back home to Niendra.

[Tahir Junayd]

Even if Tahir didn't care about politics, the news about the failure of the Peace Conference between Carthonia and Niendra couldn't be missed these days. Worries, predictions and murmurs about an impending war couln't be avoided, they seemed to be everywhere. Conversations about the current situations were even being held over alcohol in the shadiest of places. The prospect of war was preoccupying people's minds...

... which wasn't all that bad.

People keeping their minds on a particular subject made them less aware of their surroundings, less worried about their belongings and thus, was gave a thief some quite perfect opportunities to exercise their profession.

On the other hand, security was more severe, there were more guards running around and even the slick pickpocket had to be careful getting around them. Being near the border to Carthonia, his tanned skin and clearly Southern Carthonian looks gave him a slight advantage though – which they seldom did -, and once Tahir had slipped passed the guards at the gates of the market, he could move and go about his business without raising much suspicion about him.

The pirate was dressed in khaki and grey tones, nothing that would stand out. His grey pants were made of a strong material and looked like they'd seen their share of work and weather, tucked in a worn-out pair of combat boots. Tahir had chosen his favourite – and only, at the moment – khaki-coloured jacket to wear over his sweater, many pockets on the outside, as well as hidden ones: perfect for hiding money and little objects.

It was getting quite late already, and Tahir had made quite a profit hanging around the section of the market where they sold furniture and antiques. It was his experience that the wealthy gathered aroud there, and it was fairly easy and fairly fair cleaning out their pockets. They did have enough, didn't they? Even if it wasn't the place where the largest sums of money were exchanged, the young man wasn't feeling like taking big risks enough to try his luck in the black market. So he decided to head out, making a final round around the market.

In between the stands with pots of flowers and plants, a crimson cloak caught his eye. There were mostly old ladies and men in this section of the market, and Tahir was genuinely surprised at seeing an attractive young woman among the elderly customers. Slowing his pace a little to get a better look at the oddity, he let his dark dark eyes follow her silhouette and movements, take in the almost porcelain-like paleness of her skin, he listened to the sound of her laughter as she joked with the seller. Niendran women... they seemed to remain somewhat of a mystery to the pirate, who hadn't visited the Niendran shores yet and thus, only seen an occassional Niendran woman in Wyeshing.

The last thing Tahir could take note of was the bag of coins being reattached to the girl's leather pants before he felt a forceful push against his back. It was ironic, how pretending of being pushed in a crowd was one of his strategies of getting close to his victims, now that he bumped against the Niendran he was secretly admiring. He had found himself with his arms around the girl – half in order to protect himself, half protectively of the beauty.

Well, he hadn't planned on getting close to the young Niendran, let alone physically this soon, but Tahir wasn't one to be intimidated by such situations. ”So sorry, love,” he gave the girl a big grin but didn't hurry releasing her from his embrace, as long as she didn't try get away herself. Having been raised in a Wyeshing port by a Southern Carthonian mother, the pirate was bilingual and thus quite quick to pick up a language, but his knowledge of Kirimai was just basic and he spoke with an accent.

Another thing he hadn't reckoned with was his hand sliding to the girl's purse, as robbing her wasn't his intention. Yet his thief instincts seemed to be stronger...

[Laurel L’Dyanne Remmy]

Some merchants she knew, some were new to her. The town got in people from all over, though today there seemed to be fewer stalls selling Neindrian foods that despite her dislike for the nobility of the country she craved occasionally. Still in her growing hunger she figured it was time to settle down and get some food before continuing on in her shopping.

There were still several more shops she needed to go to, but that would all be done before the days end. Her plan from there was to go to the inn, eat, drink, sleep, and then perhaps she'd be headed home just before the messenger from her family arrived at the inn. If she passed him on the way she'd be nice enough to wait at the next inn for him. With all she had it would be nice to have another set of hands and a horse to help carry. Hell, maybe once she'd be nice to the poor boy stuck working under her father and she would just linger and wait for him here. It was nice enough, and war wasn't here yet to really effect how the situation was currently...

Stopping at a booth of medicinal herbs she felt a sudden shove to her back that startled her. It was not uncommon to get jostled about, manhandled by the crowd, but this was not the typical bump of shoulders. Moving forwards as if to give herself more room to dodge the blind shove she found herself stopped by a pair of hands around her. The sudden touch and contact made her eyes go wide as she stared at the young man who held her.

Lips parted to say something, but he was quicker to speak than her. Despite her birthplace as close as it was to the North she was more fluent in Iliendran since childhood than Neindran, but they weren't too far off from each other that she couldn't be understood and come off as eloquent. Carthonia was more difficult to learn because of her teachers dislike for the country, but she'd picked enough up from others in her travels...

Kirimai...she knew it best of the Wyeshing languages. Mainly because this is where she was more often than any other area. She picked it up as the other spoke, but she knew it wasn't really a first language the way his accent came through and he didn't look like someone from this area but rather like a Carthonian. Laurel tensed as he continued to hold her, it wasn't because she was upset about the accident, or his origin of birth, but rather the lack of space between them. She squirmed a little as she looked away, a little flushed at being called "love", "It's alright. No harm done really. I'm all in one piece and you look the same." She waved him off, not trying to be rude, but making it clear that no more apologies were owed for the shove.

As he started to pull away her hand went down to her waist. Years of traveling had taught her always to check her money first and her weapon second because of the thieves that tended to pick out foreigners as easy targets. She'd been lucky only robbed once two years ago, and close enough to home that there was not fret to be had. A poor man was rich and for half a day she was without a coin to call her own. Her hand moved to brush her belt, but instead felt the other's hand there. This time it wasn't her he was holding, but rather...her belt had felt a little lighter.

Realizing her situation she looked up at him drawing back, "What do you think you're doing?"