Phallic Towers

Tenebrae - Thursday, July 03, 2014, 7:32 PM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* Roleplay Nexus: Rune *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Ah, Rune.

Rune is the "City of Magic." It certainly looks the part. The cityscape is dotted with wizards' towers, each stretching higher and higher in to the sky in an ever present rush to outdo each other. It is full of flying people and things rushing to and fro. The city itself is ringed by a great wall, and dominated by a central tower that once served as the seat of the Conclave, but now serves as the heart of the Parliament of the Magi.

Today, the citizenry of Rune still conducts its business with all the urgency a city under siege might expect. People are drilling in the streets, preparing for the possibility that Dran might break the mighty walls that have endured so much. The damage done by the attack of the dragons that supposedly served Heth is still being repaired, but quickly, and it won't be long before all traces of it are gone. Magic can do a lot. Their clothing is still outlandish, even when practical--tailors with the blessing of arcane can do some unusual things. Rune, by any measure is just...odd.

The city of Rune is, perhaps, smaller than one might expect. It builds /up/, rather than 'out', with all manner of geometry and architecture defying buildings becoming possible because, well... /wizards/. And sorcerers. Arcanists, all.

Aurala nods, "I think they know there is, at least I hope they know. Strange things here. World turned upside down and fought beings of Fire other day." she shakes her head a bit.

Mikilos mutters idly to himself, wandering the streets with his nose stuck in a book, a few pages of notes paciently hovering around the wizard to awit his attention. This sort of thing doesn't really stand out that much, locally. But, standing head and shoulders over much of the population, as well as being an elf, Mikilos still manages to stand out in the crowd. Even if there isn't all that much of a crowd.

"Eh?" says Sandy, squinting at Aurala. "That doesn't even start to make sense," she tells her with a vaguely confused look on her face.

Solace is getting tired of wizards, and that's written all over his narrow features as he stomps down the street, keeping one eye out on the sky for a wayward carpet. He's fresh off of an assignment, which does nothing to help his mood. Grumpy is the word of the day. Also, clanky. He notes two people he knows, then another, and after a moment of thought, starts moving towards Aurala and Sandy.

Aurala nods her head, "tell me about it, I was there and I still do not understand." she shakes her head and points to one of the walkways and then stops and points to Solace, "He can explain it." she says and of course whether he can or not she just knows she can't really. She waves to Mikilos as she recognizes him as well.

Mikilos hrmms absently and perks and ear, peering around vaugely. Which is pretty much a default expression for him. "What? What are we explaining? Hello." Priorities, got to have them.

"Well, well," says Sandy to Solace, "You're still alive. And here. Color me shocked." She flashes him a grin, though. "Good to see you, Solace." Then to Aurala she gurunts, then to Mikilos, "Don't tell me you're here to prance."

Solace hesitates at the pointer finger. He looks to the left and the right as if hoping to find someone else at the end of that point. No? Ah, well. The artificer sighs, and nods to Mikilos as they both arrive. "I assume this is the escaped fire elementals you wish me to explain?" He gives Sandy a wary look. "Where else would I be? Irritating wizards aside, this /is/ the center for magical learning. We cannot let it be sacked by barbarians." A little sniff at that.

Aurala shakes her head, "That but more the walking upside down part." she shakes her head, "It isn't like it was the first time I was set on fire for a whole fight." she cchuckles and then shakes her head again.

Mikilos blinks and frowns mildly at Sandy. "Only so much as you are. was hopeing to find something useful in the local archives, but thus far its just new authors saying the same things, over and over." Blinking, he glances to Aurala. "Actually upside down, or an illusion of being so?"

"Actually upside down," Solace supplies, actually perking up a bit. "Not really my area - I don't believe it was artifice which allowed such an effect, but it /was/ quite exciting. If not for the aforementioned elementals running amok, I'd have quite enjoyed it."

"Even if it means enjoying watching wizards see their obnoxiously phallic towers burn, I agree with you," says Sandy to Solace. Then she eyes Aurala for a long moment before she grunts at Solace. "Ah. Upside down like that. Bizarre, but wizards are capable of a great many bizarre and annoying things."

Mikilos blinks, eyeing Sandy. "...if you design a non-phallic tower, I'll help you build it. I think it's less the structure and more your perception of it." He shrugs, looking to Solace. "I've heard of spells able to do such a thing, but seems like a pretty massive waste of resources. Then again, that appears to be standard practice around here. Build it fancy and expensive to impress the tourists, forget about being practical."

Solace makes a thoughtful noise. "A flower-bud sort of structure might work, instead. Half-open 'petals' of rooms, and walkways connecting each one like spider webs over a flower." He gestures as he talks. "With magical reinforcement, you could even make the rooms have large, bubbled glass walls along the outside, like dew drops on the petals." He's Charn? Really? "Towers bespeak a lack of imagination. Not to mention they're somewhat less secure - if someone can destroy the bottom floor, they can bring the entire thing down."

"I think your elfblood is showing," remarks Sandy to Solace, dryly, before saying, "Then why do they all have to bigger and lomnger than the other ones? Solace is, of course, correct. There's more than one way to build a wizard space, and it doesn't have to be a damn tower. But whne I get to Rune, it's all 'tower this, tower that'. Feh! How uncreatiuve!"

Mikilos gives Solace a look. "Speaking of fancy, expensive, and not practical... Anycase, any structure three times as tall as it is wide is inherantly unstable." He shrugs, and nods to Sandy. "Then again, landspace is rather rare, while airspace is free and open. Building up make sence. Though I am somewhat susprised at how little there is below ground. Comparitively speaking, at least."

Pavel arrives on the back of a wagon full of second-rate murderhobos, i.e. common mercenaries. The wagon, pulled by an artifice motive sled keeps on moving, while the stout Khazad kicks up a little dust with his impact. He seems fresh from some form of bloodwork, as his otherwise well polished full plate is scuffed and dented in a few places. Using his halberd as a walking stick, the Khazad keeps his head down and paces towards a caravan office. He returns a few moments later with a small parcel under arm and a handful of scrolls and leather envelopes tucked into his belt. For the sake of arr-pee, the dorf passes nearby and settles his bulk on a stone bench nearby to go through his mail.

Aurala has disconnected.

"I never said I had anything against fancy /or/ expensive." Solace huffs, and glares at Sandy. "It has nothing to do with having some portion of elf blood. It simply has to do with having a functioning aesthetic sense," he says, folding his arms over his chest with a whirr of clockwork. To keep himself from grumping further, he looks aside, attention caught by the trundling artifice wagon, then, belatedly, by the dwarf that gets off. He nods at Pavel as the dwarf settles nearby.

Sandy laughs, though, and she sees PAvel's arrival. A dwatf. "Let's ask dwarves. They're supposed to be sensible. Hey, you!" She points a finger in the Khazad's direction.

Mikilos rolls his eyes, but grins. "If we're going to talk about what people are supposed to be, let's talk about nobel elven ladies..."

"That's a dicussion you will /definitely/ lose," says Sandy to Mikilos without even looking at him.

Pavel is halfway into opening his parcel and eyeing the contents by the time Sandy grabs his attention. He looks up and jabs a stubby finger at himself, "Me?" He rumbles, equal parts curious and annoyed by filthy elvses. But once affirmed, he does come forward, holding the box, which appears to be some bizarre hybrid of cookies and hardtack...is that a freaking mushroom cap in the center? "What?" He asks upward, looking at the lanky assemblage of two and a half elves.

Solace's eyes light up. "Oh, yes." He also grins, glancing over at Mikilos. "I have heard many stories of the unparalleled grace, beauty, and refinement of elven noblewomen. Meeting Lady Sandiel was a...revelation." He edges away, to be sure he's out of Sandy's kicking or punching range as he talks. He glances towards Pavel. "Careful. She's going to ask you something terrible."

Mikilos channels his inner Vardamite, and nods mournfully to Pavel. "Because she is a terrible person. Though thankfully she's on our side. ...more or less."

Sandy keeps erring closer to Solace. Primarily to ensure that she can deliver the kick in question when needed. She nods towards Pavel, though, adding, "Yes. You."

Pavel turns his miscegenated amber eyes towards Sandy, looking upward. He looks annoyed, but he's a dwarf. They're always like that. But he is polite enough to share. He shoves the open box of 'cookies' towards the middle of the assemblage to offer them to the group. "It has been long since I shut my eyes," He grumbles in broken tradespeak, "What do you...want?" A pause at the end until he falls on the right word.

Solace casually moves to put Mikilos between himself and Sandy. "I'm not sure she's on my side, really." But there are cookies, which roots the half-elf in place long enough to peer at the box that is offered, although he doesn't take one. "Run while you still can," is his solemn advice to Pavel.

"We were discussing the propensity for wizards to create ridiculous towers and constantly try to outdo each other by making them each larger than the last," says Sandy. She's giving Mikilos a dark look, now, though. "I'm the worst," she informs him, solemnly.

Mikilos ponders mildly, eyeing Sandy with a thoughtful frown. "Well, not the worst at everything. Just some things."

"This is truth. One shake of ground and towers will be tombs. But they keep damn sun out of my eyes. What does this have to do with Pavel?" The khazad asks, butchering tradespeak in the process. With no takers for the dorfy treats, the box is snapped shut and tucked into his belt, while an envelope is produced, the leather cord binding it shut unwound.

Stjepan has arrived.

Solace snickers at Mikilos' response, but doesn't add his own needle to Sandy's temper. Instead, he turns a brief smile on Pavel. "Nothing, really. Unless a tower does, indeed, fall down. Are you newly come to Rune with the mercenaries, or have you been out on on the front?"

Mikilos frowns thoughtfully, peering around. "Honestly, I'd suspect some of these towers are tombs. I'm not sure what the local traditions on burial are, but I havn't noticed much by way of traditional cemataries."

Stjepan stretches up to his full height after ducking out of the Wizard's Pub door. He rolls his shoulders, and gives the smile of someone no longer cooped up.

"I was hoping to involve you in my petty disagreement," says Sandy, "over whether or not wizard towers are phallic structures because wizards are compensating for something." Shbe gives Mikilos a dirty look. Then she eyes Solace and then says to PAvel, "So in other words, nothing, but I'm petty."

Mikilos coughs. "She means 'pretty'. She's vain, but he tradespeak isn't so good." Apparently he's low on his bruise quota today.

Pavel 's face contorts into a mixture of confusion and irritation, "Will not be part of elf quarrel." He grumbles, but looks to Mikilos. "Pr-it-ee?" He rolls around the word. "Pavel knows not. She is ugly dwarf. Too thin everywhere except hip. Hair is thin and sick." And with that he turns away back to his bench, reading through his letter for the time being.

Stjepan squints over at the knot of people. "Ah, Alexandrians, always talking about hips and phallic symbols. It's good to see my adopted kind!"

"She can be both," Solace pipes up, cheerfully. Although he does wince a bit at the dwarf's assessment. He turns back to Sandy with a shrug. "Khazad. What can you expect?" And then there's a giantborn. Holy god, the height. The artificer looks up, and up, and up. "...hello."

Stjepan looks down and down, and sighs. "Hello."

Mikilos peers at Sandy. "He's not wrong, you know. You do make for an ugly dwarf." Glancing to Stjepan, the elf shakes his head. "No that's just Sandy. She's not an accurate representation, just a popular one."

Sandy pinches the bridge of her nose. "That's not what I... you know what? NEVERMIND." Some annoyance. This has not been a good week! She glares at Stjepan for just arriving, then. Especially at his comments.

Pavel takes off his minotaur horned helmet and hunches over to look over his letter further. He doesn't seem pleased by what is written, but his furrowed bushy brows indicate some level of bewilderment. After a moment's hesitation, he marches back over to the assemblage, tensing up just a little around Stepjan cause of his innate giant doding ninja skillz. The letter is thrust out to whomever can take it. "Pavel not read tradespeak good. Please read for."

Solace takes the letter. Why? Because it's there, and because he's nosy. "I'll read it for you, if you like." He glances down at the words, skimming to make sure there's nothing like 'your entire family is dead' before he starts.

Stjepan looks over at Mikilos. "That's funny. I heard it as much from you as her." A big ol' shrug. He folds his arms on his chest. "What's this?"

Sandy would've done it. She's nosy too. But she was busy being irritated adn thus missed the opportunity. She turns her eyes towards Solace, though. Curious.

Solace frowns at the paper. "Hm. The letter is from Magistrate Anterra, regarding your rights to your brother's estates. The magistrate is claiming that as your brother did not have a legally established will within Rune, his stonemasonry assets are being used to further the defensive effort until such time as you can establish further documentation proving your claim." He offers the letter back, and gives the dwarf a thoughtful look. "Do you have any of that documentation? Anything on paper saying that your brother wished you to have the business and assets after his death?"

Mikilos listens quietly, having nothing to comment at this particular point. Well, nothing worth saying aloud.

"..eh?" says Sandy. Her ears twitch at Solace's reading of the letter. She looks that direction, then at Pavel. Huh, her expression seesm to be saying. That's not what she expected!

Pavel snaps the letter back, clenching it in a gauntlet clad fist, utterly silent for a long time as the rattling of his spiked full plate indicates he is violently shaking, even his thick beard unable to hide a clenched jaw. "Reos damn these humans. Even with death at their threshhold, they steal from the mouths of my kin. He never should have come to the surface." The dwarf growls through his teeth in his native tongue. The letter is abandoned, grip replaced with the haft of the warhammer hanging from his belt. In tradespeak, he asks very quietly, "Where is Anterra?" <khazdul>

Stjepan headtilts at the explanation. His eyes close. "Oh dear."

"I have no idea," Solace says. "But I must advise against anything involving shouting, hitting, or axes. It won't help you gain legal possession of your brother's estate," he points out, mildly.

Mikilos listens, and frowns mildly, quiet.

Sandy grunts. She shakes her head at Pavel, saying, "Couldn't say, myself," she's now speaking in Dwarven. "But what happened to your brothr in the first place?" She squints down at him. <khazdul>

Pavel doesn't run off immediately for vengeance against the bureaucrat, but he doesn't seem to be slowing down either. His grip on the hammer loosens, but the enraged khazad marches back to the bench he sits at to slap his helmet back on and grab the bone-hafted halberd propped up against the wall. 'Is not for me. Azram has widow, four little ones. Without money, they have -nothing-. Spend lives tearing coal, picking greyroot!' He snaps back, apparently insulted by some implication that he was after his brother's money. "Heth. She break tower he works on, crush him." <khazdul>

Stjepan squints, just trying to parse the Khazdul unsuccessfully.

Solace taps his foot, head turning back and forth, but clearly ignorant of the content of the khazdul conversation. But he responds to the part he did comprehend with a frown. "And if you get yourself arrested or worse, they will have even less, not even an advocate. Why can the widow not claim the estate? I would think most civilized nations recognize communal marriage property. Even Charn does, provided the bribes aren't high enough."

"Solace is right, of course," says SAndy, giving a nod towards Solace, then to Pavel he winces. "Well. That's no good. Heth's a right bastard." She scowls, then adds to Stjepan and Solace, "He says his widow has four children and he's trying to work on their behalf already."

Pavel rocks on his broad heels, still steaming, though he's not looking like he's about to multiclass to Barbarian yet. Astute observers of the human (khazad) condition can read his (terrible) poker face easily as he looks at the group and towards the street: He's debating just bum-rushing through the lot of you and going on his rampage. But for now he's willing to elaborate. "It is not the same for Khazad. There is honor and kinship. Here is nothing but liars and thieves. My crest, my word should be enough. To travel below and back for papers, this city will be ashes when Pavel returns."

Mikilos shrugs. "Traveling normal routes, perhaps. But this is a city of wizards. Faster means of travel can be found. -MUCH- faster."

Stjepan scratches his chin, listening. He shakes his head. "I've got nothing."

"Mikilos would know," Solace says, with a nod. "But at any rate, it will probably be your only decent option - going back to fetch whatever documentation the local bureaucracy requires. It is possible that you could make a case with the magistrate for holding a reasonable compensation in trust while the masonry is used in the defense. But I imagine you would only ruin your chances by being aggressive. You should have a champion. Someone well-known, well-respected, and with pull in Alexandria, who can subtly point out that as Rune is availing itself of Alexandria's charity, they may wish to be seen passing on that compassion and consideration to others." He turns and looks expectantly at the two full elves.

"Better fight to protect it, then, and then /dare/ them to say no to you," says Sandy, firmly, to Pavel. "They'll see. They'll no choice in the matter, then." She gives Pavel a sympathetic, understanding nod. "Rune is full of asshole wizards." She gestures at Mikilos. "See? ASshole wizard."

Pavel's nostrils flare, "Wizard is not cheap. Grub money for their towers and fizzy piss water drinks-" He stabs his halberd toward the Pub, but settles down just a bit as he listens to Solace, yellow eyes glazed over by the cavalcade of unfamiliar words. "Pavel is his own champion. Needs no charity. Khazad do not beg!" Well, except for those ones a few planes over in Krynn, but we don't like to talk about them.

Mikilos frowns thoughfully, and shrugs. "Would a messenger be able to get the papers needed? If unable to travel swiftly yourself, maybe others can go."

"Might as well send him off to duel with that damned warlord," Solace says to Sandy, with a frown. "He'd have better luck. One does not /fight/ an established system. One learns to move within and around it, as required." He nods to Mikilos. "That's a good idea. Surely, someone in this city of magic must be able to travel swiftly."

"Pavel walked 37 days before he saw your terrible sky and sun, then 22 across horrible surface land on wagon and ship. Will this city be left?" The Khazad grumbles in retort to Mikilos.

"Sometimes, the system needs a good kick in it's arse," says Sandy to Solace, "Especially when that system is being manifestly unjust. Not that I don't blame them for needing help, but it's their obligation to ensure that the people they're taking from are compensated, or at least get a /promise/ of compensation." She sniffs.

Pavel has reconnected.

Solace hmphs at Sandy. "You'd kick over an entire, functioning organism because one person or family might be falling through the cracks? It is war," he says, heavily. "The stone is needed. It is sad, but should Pavel produce the proper paperwork, the magistrate can likely be persuaded to release the property. Especially should Pavel or the widow negotiate a lower rate for the defenders for the duration of the conflict. This is the way things go," he says, with a shake of his head. "And now, this is the way I must go. Pavel, I do hope that things work out for your family. Mikilos, Lady Sandiel, ...very tall person I don't know, have a good evening."

Mikilos shrugs. "Depends on how you traveled. If you spend days going in cirlces, might not be so far in a straight line. And when it comes to magic, distance isn't always so important."

Solace has disconnected.

"I only meant give it a good shake, not tear the damn thing down. Though sometimes that's needed too," says Sandy, glaring after Solace with her hands on her hips.

Pavel's grip tightens on the halberd as he narrows his eyes at Mikilos, "Pavel could find way out of 9 Hells missing both eyes and drunk as Skeerath (whatever that is), Elf. No circles. Bah, all elves do is talk. Pavel go find khazad that knows Rune before it is broken." And with that, he spins to go stalk off down an alley toward the more dorfy/less corrupt bureacraft side of town.

Pavel has left.

Mikilos shrugs idly, and glances at Sandy. "I'm guessing I already know the anser, but you wouldn't happen to know a local Runish wizard who... favors non-standard methods? The establish libraries are all but useless."

"...no," says Sandy, "I don't know a damn person in this city. Not even /one/," she scowls at Mikilos, of cours.e

Mikilos sighs, and shrugs. "Didn't think so, but figured it worth asking. So much knowledge tied up in this place... but it's all buried under layers and layers of ignorance."

"Ignorance?" says Sandy, eyebrows lifting. "That's a funny thing to say about Rune."

Mikilos frowns. "I'm not laughing. The same bit of reasearch, done again and again, with a new name stamped upon ot, claiming to be the first to get 'real' results. older works dicredited, buried, even destoryed, so the current 'professor' can claim credit. Ignorance in its worst form."

"Oh, well. I'm so glad you've figured all that out," says Sandy to Mikilos, "Welp, guess we can let the city burn!" She's mocking, of course.

Mikilos shrugs. "Could burn for a week before anyhitng unique is lost. But if it were to flare up, would take a week just to get all the smoldering put out again. Best not to let it flare in the first place."

"I'm pretty sure a lot of people would disagree with you. Frankly, I'm shocked that you'd countenance the loss of such things," says Sandy, and with that, turns on her heel and begins to march off.

Mikilos shrugs. "Knowledge is one thing. Self-promoting blatering is quite another."

"And now the snobbery," remarks Sandy, irritated.

Stjepan listens. He's been quiet for a while. "Does it really matter what these people are like, truly?" He waves a hand roughly in the direction of Dran and then Dragonier.

Mikilos shakes his head. "No, snobbery is what I'm against. Well, bias snobbery at least. If someone wants to stamp their name on a new color of the same old thing, that's fine for them. but there's no reason to tie up true progress in a bunch of beurcratic red tape."

Stjepan has disconnected.

Sandy has left.

Dylan has arrived.

Mikilos sits quietly on a bench, his nose stuck in a book. Here in Rune, that's hardly unusual. Mikilos also has a number of parchments floating around, awating his attention, which also isn't all that unusual. But, towering over the average Runish wizard, and being an elf, helps the magi to stand out, even in a place like this.

"Hello there," Dylan says affably enough when he approaches Mikilos and his pages. He pauses before finally just inviting himself to sit on the bench next to Mikilos, deftly navigating the floating pages so as not to disturb their placement or order. "Sorry to bother you, but I haven't seen many elves in Rune. It's just nice to see some normal looking ears for once." He grins and shrugs.

Mikilos blinks, peering a few moments as his thoughts return from whatever been of research they'd been occupied with. "Oh, hello. Yes, there's a few of us around, but distinctly a minority. Are you here with the Irregulars? I don't belive we've met before."

Dylan says, "No, we haven't met," Dylan says, extending his hand. "I'm Dylan. I came over on a guild contract. Finished the job and now I can do a little sightseeing before the next contract comes in." He shrugs and smiles, looking over the passing crowds."

"No, we haven't met," Dylan says, extending his hand. "I'm Dylan. I came over on a guild contract. Finished the job and now I can do a little sightseeing before the next contract comes in." He shrugs and smiles, looking over the passing crowds.

Mikilos chuckles, and accepts the handshake, his own grip rather more casuled than one might expect of a wizard. "My own duties have been a little more theoritical, and sadly somewhat less productive. Protecting the city from the barbarian forces is of course important, but Heth remains the real threat."

Everything about Dylan has a toughened, road-worn look about him. Like Mikilos, his hands are also callused, but also Dylan perpetually looks like he just hopped off a caravan, in from somewhere interesting. Up close as they are now, Mikilos might even be able to spot the purply-blue sparks of light deep in Dylan's eyes. It's not a normal effect for any kind of elf, and doesn't seem to be a trick of the light. "Ah, so you're an arcanist of some kind, then?"

Mikilos smiles. "'Magus' being the technical term, though I tend to claim the self-made title of 'Builder-Arcane'. I usually focus on the creation of magic items, longswords in particular, though I'm perfectly capable of other items. Just now though, am trying to wade though all the redundant papers in the Rune libraries to find something useful. It's slow going. It seems every twit able to make a spark has to publish a paper about it, and clog up the entire system."

Dylan chuckles and nods. "That sounds awfully useful. Hopefully I'll be able to make use of your services after a few more contracts." He clears his throat as he glances over the passing crowds and adds, "It seems I have some skill in 'making a spark' too, though I'm told I was born with the ability, even if it took me this long to discover it. The point is, I promise not to publish any papers." He grins.

Mikilos chuckles, and waves vaugely. "The Talent lies with many, really, though not everyone choses to persue it. I myself have picked a more wizardly path, but each must find what best suits themselves. I take it you've followed a more martial path thus far?"

"Yes, sort of," Dylan says, distracted briefly by a cart selling pastries. He flags down the halfling pastry seller and orders himself a folded treat with chocolate inside, offering to get something for Mikilos as well. When the food arrangements are said and done, he continues. "I grew up studying a martial path, and only discovered my arcane talents later. Experimentally though, I've been having fun attempting to combine these aspects of myself."

Mikilos politely declines the sweets. "I pride in keeping my swordplay sharp, but admit I'm no proper warrior. The combonation of the two can be a tricky path to follow, but quite powerful if done well."

Munching, Dylan doesn't seem to have any compunction about speaking around a mouthful of food. "I make no claims, or even plans, for great power. But the process has been entertaining, if nothing else. The pursuit of understanding is it's own reward more often than not."

Mikilos grins, and nods. "There is that. And knowledge itself is something of a power. if only in knowing what doesn't really work."

"True enough," Dylan says with a smile. He pauses, takes a breath, and slowly stands, stretching his back as he does so. "Well, friend Mikilos, I should probably be on my way. Check the inn for any messages from the guild, and all that." He turns toward Mikilos and makes a shallow bow. "But it was a pleasure to meet you. How will I track you down to see about your wares?"

Mikilos ponders. "Well, here in Rune I havn't much of a presence, but if you return to alexandros, I've a shop up on the Mountain Road. or I can be reached through the Guild without too much trouble."

Dylan says, "Excellent," Dylan says with a nod. "Very good. With any luck, you'll be hearing from me soon. Good day!" He smiles and turns to head off into the crowds of passersby."

"Excellent," Dylan says with a nod. "Very good. With any luck, you'll be hearing from me soon." He smiles and turns to head off into the crowds of passersby.