Post by enchilada on May 31, 2019 22:48:06 GMT
Life wasn’t as lively as it used to be. Nobody was really out to get him, or kill him, or trip him up before he even had the hurdle in sight. Dhaunmyr had a pretty fair existence, one that was centered around a warm home, with the one person he felt he could count on for anything, the one person that would make him smile, eventually.
But in honesty, didn’t that make things a little boring? There was no checking for poison, no peeking around corners before turning them, no conspiracy. All simple, no flair. Well, he was about done, as it was, but Dhaunmyr wanted to have a look around for himself — work that was. He was done selling, and he could spend a little time browsing. Even that had lost a tiny glimmer of its charm. Dhaunmyr wasn’t exactly new to these people, these places. He knew what would be there, what wouldn’t. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, hands in the pockets of his coat that he didn’t really need to wear, but it just pulled the outfit together, and all the individual hand-sewn pockets on the inside certainly made transporting his leftover goods much easier than a big box of some description. More trustworthy, too, when they were on him. When the dark elf’s eyes opened, he saw plenty of twinkling auras, small magical trinkets, merchants with slightly larger magical wares, even a few passers by with items with some kind of item or two, something near mundane that he couldn’t quite discern. He wanted to find something small that would —
Someone was performing some kind of enchantment. That was the main thing to look out for, around markets, shops, wares. Around any kind of interaction or transaction, you just didn’t use anything of the sort. Usually, Dhaunmyr wouldn’t stoop to help anyone out, but, he knew he would want someone to do the same for him. There were a few things you couldn’t do in his presence, and they really were a small amount. Nobody bullied the underdog, nobody upset women, although he wished he could shake that, he decided to call it chivalry in the mean time, and you didn’t cheat merchants.
One, two, three, four... so on, he counted the sound of his heels as he made his way to the source. Whoever it was, they’d likely just need a polite reminder if they were really resorting to magic. He hadn’t looked yet, not beyond the obvious spell. Dhaunmyr was too busy looking at the ground for that kind of thing. It wouldn’t turn out badly in a place this public, of course not. And if it did, well, that’s what the training was for.
Dhaunmyr sidled up to the caster, then smiled up at them finally. “Excuse me, please, do excuse me but I—“ If Dhaunmyr was capable of showing a red face, it would certainly have shown now, but he couldn’t, not really. Especially not under however many layers of powder to try to get his skin less glossy and more matte. His hand flew up to his mouth, and he just sort of — stared. After everything. Here. Now. And Dhaunmyr had started to scold him. It seemed like that was the natural order of things, these days, though.
He brought the hand down from his face, and he waved, just slightly, before it dropped back into his pocket. “Well! Fancy that. I’ll be stuffed — you didn’t... it’s you. You’re... here.” Dhaunmyr supposed he hadn’t been terribly talkative before, even if it was for the reason that he was on the verge of a panic attack pretty much all night, so it wouldn’t be too out of character for him to struggle again. Should he leave it like that? After all this? Probably not. But he’d give Malakbel a chance before he flew into dramatics. Should he do that? Maybe he should act like he hadn’t cared at all. Was it too late for that?
But in honesty, didn’t that make things a little boring? There was no checking for poison, no peeking around corners before turning them, no conspiracy. All simple, no flair. Well, he was about done, as it was, but Dhaunmyr wanted to have a look around for himself — work that was. He was done selling, and he could spend a little time browsing. Even that had lost a tiny glimmer of its charm. Dhaunmyr wasn’t exactly new to these people, these places. He knew what would be there, what wouldn’t. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, hands in the pockets of his coat that he didn’t really need to wear, but it just pulled the outfit together, and all the individual hand-sewn pockets on the inside certainly made transporting his leftover goods much easier than a big box of some description. More trustworthy, too, when they were on him. When the dark elf’s eyes opened, he saw plenty of twinkling auras, small magical trinkets, merchants with slightly larger magical wares, even a few passers by with items with some kind of item or two, something near mundane that he couldn’t quite discern. He wanted to find something small that would —
Someone was performing some kind of enchantment. That was the main thing to look out for, around markets, shops, wares. Around any kind of interaction or transaction, you just didn’t use anything of the sort. Usually, Dhaunmyr wouldn’t stoop to help anyone out, but, he knew he would want someone to do the same for him. There were a few things you couldn’t do in his presence, and they really were a small amount. Nobody bullied the underdog, nobody upset women, although he wished he could shake that, he decided to call it chivalry in the mean time, and you didn’t cheat merchants.
One, two, three, four... so on, he counted the sound of his heels as he made his way to the source. Whoever it was, they’d likely just need a polite reminder if they were really resorting to magic. He hadn’t looked yet, not beyond the obvious spell. Dhaunmyr was too busy looking at the ground for that kind of thing. It wouldn’t turn out badly in a place this public, of course not. And if it did, well, that’s what the training was for.
Dhaunmyr sidled up to the caster, then smiled up at them finally. “Excuse me, please, do excuse me but I—“ If Dhaunmyr was capable of showing a red face, it would certainly have shown now, but he couldn’t, not really. Especially not under however many layers of powder to try to get his skin less glossy and more matte. His hand flew up to his mouth, and he just sort of — stared. After everything. Here. Now. And Dhaunmyr had started to scold him. It seemed like that was the natural order of things, these days, though.
He brought the hand down from his face, and he waved, just slightly, before it dropped back into his pocket. “Well! Fancy that. I’ll be stuffed — you didn’t... it’s you. You’re... here.” Dhaunmyr supposed he hadn’t been terribly talkative before, even if it was for the reason that he was on the verge of a panic attack pretty much all night, so it wouldn’t be too out of character for him to struggle again. Should he leave it like that? After all this? Probably not. But he’d give Malakbel a chance before he flew into dramatics. Should he do that? Maybe he should act like he hadn’t cared at all. Was it too late for that?
