#hawren

While designing a bird for Great Haven, this boy was created with the help of some of my friends.

At your request, Maya sets you on the desk. You start by telling him how it has followed you your entire life, from birth, bringing bad luck to not only yourself, but all those around you. But before you can even get into the details, he interrupts you. "You should know, there is no such thing as 'luck,' right? At least not in the truest sense. No such thing as fate, no such thing as luck! Only good or bad ciscumstances!"

...Well, then you begin to tell him about your old family, and how they learned to never trust you with anything important, and how you eventually had to remove yourself, for your own sake. Hearing it makes Maya more than a little uncomfortable, but fortunately, this Aloysius finds the perfect place to interject. "Well, that's unfortunate and all, but I am a magician scholar, not a therapist! I wish you well with that, but nothing you've said so far screams 'curse' to me, don't you know? If there is one thing more curse-ly about a curse than magic, then we would all be in the dark about curses, yes? You would say a curse is inherently magic above all else, yes?" ...You slowly nod your head. "Then, tell me about your experiences with magic! Tell me, tell me please!"

[tronn: You generate sparks of electricity spontaneously]

In that case... you tell him about your unusual ability to throw sparks, and immediately he is intrigued. "Sparks, you say? I've never heard of a hiir that could throw sparks. But do go on."

So you tell him how it often gets the better of you, as was the case with Mort and before that, several... family members.

"Is that all?" He asks.

"I guess so," you reply.

"Good." He grabs what you can only assume is one of those counting devices from the desk, and begins twisting it in various ways. "Now, I have a good suspicion on what this ailment of your might be, but in the name of EMPIRICISM, I can't exactly confirm it until we can test it."

The rozo secretary expresses her concern that she was still writing the previous numbers down. "Mochi's results aren't all that important, they were rather mundane," he says. "This is going to be far more interesting. That is, if you would give me the pleasure of testing your abilities, mister... what was your name again?"

You almost give him your old name, but remember to correct yourself and say Raoul.

"Raoul! I'm not certain I can rid you entirely of this 'curse' of yours, but I can almost certainly help you learn more about it! I might not even charge you; I only welcome the opportunity to see your potential."

As your mind poorly handles all these new sights and sounds, you make a beeline for the nearest thing of comfort as if by instinct, and that thing happens to be the caravan driver. Also, you just kinda want to get away from that guy. The first thing he does in response is push you away with his cylindrical foot. "No, no no no, please, I can't be... you shouldn't be getting too attached to me." Its a bit troubling, but soon enough you come to your senses.

[Crowstone: >Ask what's going on :O ]

"...At least tell me what's happening here," you request.

He's glad to explain. "I'm... simply having the caravan searched and inventoried. I've got to figure out who stole my sparsenore... or to be more exact, where Mort put it. Its stupidly obvious he did it. When Maya and I carried him in, I saw the burn marks on his hands.... and look at him now, even."

The dude does look pretty ill. The narcotics must have built up over time, however dumb way he was handling it.

"...In any case, the only thing left to do is prove it to the authorities, so you're free to g-"

"I'm going back to the barracks." The Hawren from earlier storms himself out of the caravan, bleary-eyed and trying to hide his face.

The other one follows right after him. "Hey hey, Don't be like that, c'mere."

"....As I was saying, you're free to go after all the paperwork is done, but since I'm sure neither of us want to deal with your apparent lack of citizenship, you could just leave now while they're distracted." He leans down to grab the gadget that the hawren dropped, and starts twisting little dials on it. "...I'm pretty sure I can do a better job than the government, anyways."

"...Is that legal?" you ask.

The driver doesn't skip a beat in answering. "Of course it is! If you have any stuff left on here, though, you'll have to come back and get it later. I need to find out where this guy is hiding what he stole. He probably dropped them in one of his brandy bottles. So, uh.. I'll be in the market, alright? Now go."

Which is all very helpful information to know when you know nothing about the city. The only possession you really have to get is your satchel, which, last you knew, was in Maya's possession. Which means you'll have to get it back from her. Before you set yourself loose, you ask the Sparsen one more question, namely, wherever that blue shelled individual might be. He answers, with a rather blunt "I dunno, kid."

Seems you're on your own, then.

[tronn: >Scamper off!]

Wherever you are, there are lots of neatly lined up cars here... and a bunch of buildings in the direction opposite of the wall. There are a few street vendors lining the streets, which seem to radiate out from the massive gate that probably serves as an entrance to the city. Between the vendors, there are some more major operations, and though you can't really read the signs, you can see some clear symbols... they include one elaborate and broad diamond shape, a rectangular sign with loads of stacked triangles, and... a bank. You'd recognize that anywhere, even if you've never properly used one. In between it all, there's a small plaza-like area that people are frequently walking through, and in the distance, you can make out some kind of tower... though it looks pretty far.

You have no clue what he (or she, it's a little difficult to tell from behind) could possibly be up to. Are they some sort of brigand who took hold of the caravan, simply not noticing you there? Are they making that unsavory gesture on purpose?

They... DO look like they're on official business, though, as they aren't rapidly tearing down the place... only carefully checking each item in the car and muttering under their breath. Maybe... maybe they own the caravan, now? And Maya left you in its cargo? But that's ridiculous, all these scarves are still in here, and those bottles over there belonged to that certain rozo.

Maybe they're some sort of inventory checker? Be it professional, or... not so professional, possibly hired by a larger band of highwaymen who decided they needed someone to keep track of their quarry. They don't look too happy about being here, anxious, even... like they don't have a firm handle on what they're supposed to be doing. It could be that they're being forced... by what? The threat of death?

...You're overthinking things again. What kind of a band of thieves would force someone else to take inventory for them? Not even your own clan did that; inventory was always taken by the head; it was a much more efficient and reliable way of knowing what went where. Nobody could forge numbers to get out with a better sha-

"Atchoo!" Thinking about clan storage reminds you of the amount of dust that was in there.

The hawren turns around to look at you almost immediately. They hadn't seen you beforehand.

"Aaaahh... H-heeelp!" He cries out in a mild but growing panic. His face looks more afraid of you than you are of him.

[Whimbrel: Sneak out.]

So, you're not gonna waste any time before getting out of his way. You hop right to your feet and scurry towards the back door, leaving the dude to have a panic attack on his own in here; its freaking you out, too. You can tell from the light outside that it's no longer nighttime, or even snowy.

Your little legs plop you right onto the ground outside, where your eyes are assaulted with an assortment of color and activity. It's nothing new... but instinct is telling you not to be out in the open. You're in a city plaza, and it's a lot bigger than the one back where you are from. The tile beneath you is warm... which is strange for winter. And there are hawrens everywhere. It almost makes you want to back up under the car again. Nearby you see the driver and a lady similar to the hawren you saw inside... and Mort, who looks incapacitated and otherwise crazy. Just like you remember him.

The driver clicks his arms together a few times in impatience. "...Sorry about that. Maya didn't want to move him," he says. "Are you sure he's going to be alright on his own in there?"

The hawren in red's voice is much more stiff. "...If I do anything, I'm probably going to have to let him calm down first." Her wings clutch into fists behind her back, and she takes a deep breath. "...Do you... have papers for this fourth passenger?"

"I don't, but.. I'm not sure if he had any to begin with. He joined us mid-voyage."

"Eeh..." He apologizes. "Sorry if this is only making you spooked. Try and get some rest, alright?"

That would be ideal. You don't waste any more time on making that decision, and climb up and over the sparsen's arm, hopping off to the wagon floor.

[tronn: >Hide under a bench until you arrive at the city.]

Hightailing it to the nearest hiding spot, you bury yourself into Maya's pile of yarnwork, leaving the gentle rumble of the wheels and floor as the only reminders of your inexperience riding in these contraptions. And sheesh, it sure beats the hell out of that other blanket you were hoveled up in! You have to ask yourself why you didn't dive in here earlier. You hope she doesn't mind...

Judging by the fact that she was just giggling at you, she probably doesn't. Which is nice, since you would certainly mind having to leave. The pile mostly composed of scarves and hats... and a sweater or two. It's all very meticulously crafted.

[Spira-Virgo: > So Maya where are ya traveling to?]

You don't really have anything to do on your own after you reach the capital. Of the three other people on this thing, you'd think Maya would be the only one to let you stick around. The driver doesn't like curses, and Mort... is a jerk.

"Aah... Maya?" You begin to ask, "What are you gonna do when you get to Arioch?"

She's hesitant. "...Why you askin', little guy?"

"To... tell the truth, I don't really know where I'm going. I'm lost."

There's a few more moments of silence before she starts to speak again. "...Well, after this job is finished and I have my payment for the season, I'll have enough money to head back to my hometown and raise my children."

"You have children?" You ask.

She nods, and that's the end of your conversation. You keep quiet for the rest of the trip, as its probably not your place to be asking about her family matters. Before you know it, your exhausted body is asleep again.

  ______