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TOPIC | [TCC] Mayhem at the Market (CYOA)
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[i]Drat. I totally forgot to fill in my form on Day 2 so now I'm behind. OH WELL, catch-up RP coming up for my own (silly) story purposes ...[/i] [br] ----- [br] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5443143] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/54432/5443143_350.png[/img] [/url] [b]> Follow Andraste[/b] Stark had to admit that he was genuinely impressed by Andraste's ability to put together some kind of explosive device from bits of pilfered scraps while on the run - he would never admit it aloud, but in the privacy of his own head, he didn't think [i]he'd[/i] be able to do that. However, his plan to get more information out of the Skydancer had failed spectacularly - all he had learned was that there was a "Captain Serious Face". Worse, now he was on his own, looking for some dragon called Enzul, in a rather disreputable-looking bar. The looks on the faces of the patrons weren't particularly friendly, and the Ridgeback's honey-smelling blue mead just looked downright suspicious. Stark once again found himself regretting that he had never got around to installing more advanced sensors in his golem companion. If only Jarvis could have scanned the drink and told him it was safe (or not) ... but it was no use dwelling on what-ifs. Plus there was the fact that he still didn't feel quite [i]right[/i] after the whole touching-the-bracelet, getting-the-tattoo debacle. Pelting through the streets and almost getting blown up hadn't helped his ringing ears and throbbing head much either. "Uh, no," Stark said, faking regret as best as he could under the circumstances. "I [i]don't[/i] think so." [br] ----- [br] [i]((I really wanted to drink the mead, but I think Stark wouldn't so here we go.))[/i] [br] ----- [br] [b]> Don't drink the mead[/b] Stark was really getting tired of all the fleeing he was being forced to do because of the stupid bracelet-now-tattoo. The Ridgeback had let him go easily enough, to his intense relief - he wasn't up to fighting a bar full of dragons in his current condition. However, his situation had gone from bad to worse when a member of the Reclamation Bureau caught sight of him. The fact that they ended up in the sewers thanks to the clumsy Mirror was just the icing on the cake. Taliesin, as he introduced himself, looked like he wouldn't be much of a match for Stark's technology-augmented magic and armour, so he could fight his way out of the sewer ... but he was an official. While Stark wasn't an enormous fan of authority, but he couldn't very well start attacking people who were just trying to do their jobs. However, he couldn't guarantee that Taliesin (or the Reclamation Bureau) would listen when he said that he hadn't done anything wrong. Well. Apart from [i]technically[/i] shoplifting the bracelet, but it hadn't actually been his decision to leave Curious Curios in the first place - and he'd happily return the bracelet (with no small amount of relief!) if someone could just figure out how to switch it back from being a tattoo! Presumably Enzul could do it, if he ever found him? No, his only choice was to make a break for it.
Drat. I totally forgot to fill in my form on Day 2 so now I'm behind. OH WELL, catch-up RP coming up for my own (silly) story purposes ...





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> Follow Andraste

Stark had to admit that he was genuinely impressed by Andraste's ability to put together some kind of explosive device from bits of pilfered scraps while on the run - he would never admit it aloud, but in the privacy of his own head, he didn't think he'd be able to do that.

However, his plan to get more information out of the Skydancer had failed spectacularly - all he had learned was that there was a "Captain Serious Face". Worse, now he was on his own, looking for some dragon called Enzul, in a rather disreputable-looking bar. The looks on the faces of the patrons weren't particularly friendly, and the Ridgeback's honey-smelling blue mead just looked downright suspicious.

Stark once again found himself regretting that he had never got around to installing more advanced sensors in his golem companion. If only Jarvis could have scanned the drink and told him it was safe (or not) ... but it was no use dwelling on what-ifs.

Plus there was the fact that he still didn't feel quite right after the whole touching-the-bracelet, getting-the-tattoo debacle. Pelting through the streets and almost getting blown up hadn't helped his ringing ears and throbbing head much either.

"Uh, no," Stark said, faking regret as best as he could under the circumstances. "I don't think so."




((I really wanted to drink the mead, but I think Stark wouldn't so here we go.))




> Don't drink the mead

Stark was really getting tired of all the fleeing he was being forced to do because of the stupid bracelet-now-tattoo.

The Ridgeback had let him go easily enough, to his intense relief - he wasn't up to fighting a bar full of dragons in his current condition. However, his situation had gone from bad to worse when a member of the Reclamation Bureau caught sight of him. The fact that they ended up in the sewers thanks to the clumsy Mirror was just the icing on the cake.

Taliesin, as he introduced himself, looked like he wouldn't be much of a match for Stark's technology-augmented magic and armour, so he could fight his way out of the sewer ... but he was an official.

While Stark wasn't an enormous fan of authority, but he couldn't very well start attacking people who were just trying to do their jobs.

However, he couldn't guarantee that Taliesin (or the Reclamation Bureau) would listen when he said that he hadn't done anything wrong. Well. Apart from technically shoplifting the bracelet, but it hadn't actually been his decision to leave Curious Curios in the first place - and he'd happily return the bracelet (with no small amount of relief!) if someone could just figure out how to switch it back from being a tattoo!

Presumably Enzul could do it, if he ever found him?

No, his only choice was to make a break for it.
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[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=25652537] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/256526/25652537_350.png[/img] [/url] Tempest was annoyed at the whole situation. He didn't want to have to start over and find another lead, so the Pearlcatcher decided to run the quick errand for the Fae. It was probably a bad idea and he only hoped it wasn't anything illegal, but he didn't have a better plan.

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Tempest was annoyed at the whole situation. He didn't want to have to start over and find another lead, so the Pearlcatcher decided to run the quick errand for the Fae. It was probably a bad idea and he only hoped it wasn't anything illegal, but he didn't have a better plan.
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[url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/14#post_34419470][previous post][/url] [center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=43537071] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/435371/43537071_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] Well. That was...unpleasant. Volt shook her head, trying to clear the lights from her eyes. At least, she hoped her eyesight was just hazy, and not that the tattoo was giving off..sparks? Trying to shake off the unease that the dizziness spell left in its wake, Volt set off for her destination with grim determination. Yes, these guys were really giving her the runaround, but she had a strong suspicion that that cranky old Fae did indeed have the information she needed. So, [b]she'd get his mysterious 'package'.[/b] It was the best 'lead' she had, given she had no other clues and wasn't about to start wandering from store to stall asking if anyone had ever heard of an ancient, mysterious Guardian wandering the market. Especially not with this tattoo apparently deciding to start [i]spreading[/i] out of nowhere. Besides. Worst case scenario, she'd keep that crotchety old Carrock's package until he told her what she needed to know. [right][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/24#post_34464825][next post][/url][/right]
[previous post]

Well. That was...unpleasant.

Volt shook her head, trying to clear the lights from her eyes. At least, she hoped her eyesight was just hazy, and not that the tattoo was giving off..sparks?

Trying to shake off the unease that the dizziness spell left in its wake, Volt set off for her destination with grim determination. Yes, these guys were really giving her the runaround, but she had a strong suspicion that that cranky old Fae did indeed have the information she needed. So, she'd get his mysterious 'package'.

It was the best 'lead' she had, given she had no other clues and wasn't about to start wandering from store to stall asking if anyone had ever heard of an ancient, mysterious Guardian wandering the market. Especially not with this tattoo apparently deciding to start spreading out of nowhere.

Besides. Worst case scenario, she'd keep that crotchety old Carrock's package until he told her what she needed to know.
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[url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=5142552] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/51426/5142552.png[/img][/url][item=coppercoil creeper] Sprocket’s crests slunk. Clearly she had not found an old denizen. She reached into a different coat pocket to pull out a metal tin. It was shallow, but fairly large at three of her hand spans across, with a surface worn and scratched in testimony of how long she had been carrying it. The fae unlocked the tricky little mechanism holding it shut in one quick movement, then placed her candied scorpion in it beside other tightly wrapped bundles of food. No point in wasting something she had paid for. The tin closed with a tiny click and she shoved it back in her coat. She looked at Carrock skeptically as she hopped off her stool and flapped over to him. She was large for a fae, and by the looks of it she easily outsized him. Chances were that he hadn't been around here any longer than the pearlcatcher, but he was the closest thing she had to a lead. “Carrock?” Sprocket roused the other fae with copious amounts of nudging and a few light sparks of electricity. Her crests sank even lower when he shoves her a slip of paper. Did everyone here expect bribes for even a small amount of help? She left the restaurant in low spirits, and followed the instructions for lack of a better place to go, whistling a few calls for Cogger as she went. Suddenly a burst of pain forced her to the ground. The itching, aching feeling trails up her body and pulls at her skin until she’s huddled over with her eyes squeezed shut. By the time she regained her senses Cogger was there. The creeper inspected her with a new fervor, his eyepieces flickering as they went through various different lenses. “I’ve gotten myself into something serious this time, haven't I, dear? I wish I could see what you do right now.” Whatever this bracer was, she wanted it off of her. Stat. But how to do so? The likelihood that Carrock actually had information useful to her was chancy at best. Time spent hunting down his package could well end up wasting what time she had left before she was caught or killed by her new decoration. But so could time spent asking around at random, and as she’d concluded earlier the more dragons she asked the larger trace she left behind. The fae arched her neck and drew her crests our narrowly, trying to pull together a new surge of determination. She’d fetch this package of his, as quickly as she could without drawing attention, and afterwards if Carrock continued to treat her with so little courtesy he was in for a fae-sized throttling. Maybe [i]that[/i] would clear his memory.

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Sprocket’s crests slunk. Clearly she had not found an old denizen. She reached into a different coat pocket to pull out a metal tin. It was shallow, but fairly large at three of her hand spans across, with a surface worn and scratched in testimony of how long she had been carrying it. The fae unlocked the tricky little mechanism holding it shut in one quick movement, then placed her candied scorpion in it beside other tightly wrapped bundles of food. No point in wasting something she had paid for.

The tin closed with a tiny click and she shoved it back in her coat. She looked at Carrock skeptically as she hopped off her stool and flapped over to him. She was large for a fae, and by the looks of it she easily outsized him. Chances were that he hadn't been around here any longer than the pearlcatcher, but he was the closest thing she had to a lead.

“Carrock?” Sprocket roused the other fae with copious amounts of nudging and a few light sparks of electricity. Her crests sank even lower when he shoves her a slip of paper. Did everyone here expect bribes for even a small amount of help?

She left the restaurant in low spirits, and followed the instructions for lack of a better place to go, whistling a few calls for Cogger as she went. Suddenly a burst of pain forced her to the ground. The itching, aching feeling trails up her body and pulls at her skin until she’s huddled over with her eyes squeezed shut. By the time she regained her senses Cogger was there. The creeper inspected her with a new fervor, his eyepieces flickering as they went through various different lenses.

“I’ve gotten myself into something serious this time, haven't I, dear? I wish I could see what you do right now.” Whatever this bracer was, she wanted it off of her. Stat.

But how to do so? The likelihood that Carrock actually had information useful to her was chancy at best. Time spent hunting down his package could well end up wasting what time she had left before she was caught or killed by her new decoration. But so could time spent asking around at random, and as she’d concluded earlier the more dragons she asked the larger trace she left behind. The fae arched her neck and drew her crests our narrowly, trying to pull together a new surge of determination. She’d fetch this package of his, as quickly as she could without drawing attention, and afterwards if Carrock continued to treat her with so little courtesy he was in for a fae-sized throttling. Maybe that would clear his memory.
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[b]Username:[/b] Stormdragon [b]User ID:[/b] 5665 [b]Dragon Name:[/b] Echo [b]Dragon Picture:[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=19951008] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/199511/19951008_350.png[/img] [/url] [font=ocr a std]DATA LOG: JULY 25 OF 2018. THUNDERCRACK CARNIVALE. LOCATION: THE BAZAAR. BEGIN TEXT. I SIGH. LOOKS LIKE I'M REALLY WRAPPED UP IN WHATEVER NONSENSE THAT IS HAPPENING AROUND ME BECAUSE OF THE CURSED ARMBAND. THE DROUGHT WAS TASTY, AND I SAT AT THE BAR SIPPING IT AS I WAITED FOR AN ANSWER FROM THE BARKEEP. HE FINALLY TURNS HIS ATTENTION BACK TO ME AND INTRODUCES HIMSELF. I CAREFULLY EXPLAIN THAT I'M LOOKING FOR SOMEONE; AN OLD DRAGON CALLED ENZUL, IS ALL I COULD DECIPHER FROM MY FRAZZLED MEMORY. HE DIRECTS ME TO THE JUNKYARD. HOW POETIC, I THINK, THAT I BEGIN MY HELL OF A DAY IN A JUNK STORE, AND NOW I'M HEADING TO THE PLACE WHERE JUNK IS SUPPOSED TO BE. IN THE TRASH. BEFORE I CAN EVEN START ASKING QUESTIONS YET ANOTHER OVERLY EXCITED, TALKATIVE DRAGON SHOWS UP AND INTRODUCES HERSELF AS SPARKPLUG, THE EXACT DRAGON THE BARKEEP HAD RECOMMENDED. I WAIT IMPATIENTLY UNTIL THERE IS A SLIGHT PAUSE IN HER SPEAKING AS SHE RUSHES FORWARD AND TRIES TO GRAB "ONE OF ANDY'S PROJECTS" THAT IS NOW ETCHED ONTO MY ARM. I AM LOOKING FOR THE OLD DRAGON NAMED ENZUL I SAY QUICKLY, AND RATHER LOUDLY. A WRY SMILE SPREADS ACROSS THE NOCTURNE'S FACE, SHE CLAIMS SHE ALWAYS KNOWS WHERE ANDY IS, IF I DO A TASK FOR HER. THE TASK IS TO FIND AN OLD PIECE OF MACHINERY LOST IN THE JUNKYARD... SHE THANKS ME AND BOUNDS OFF WITHOUT AN ANSWER FROM ME. I GUESS. WHATEVER I NEED TO DO TO GET THIS THING OFF ME AND HAVE THESE STRANGE DRAGONS LEAVE ME ALONE. THERE ARE TWO PATHS THROUGH THE JUNKYARD THAT I CAN EASILY PICK OUT AND WALK THROUGH, ONE THROUGH THE MIDDLE AND THE OTHER ALONG THE FENCELINE. I CHOOSE THE EDGE ALONG THE FENCE. IF WHATEVER I'M LOOKING FOR IS REALLY LOST I THINK THE LESS-TRAVELED PATH WOULD BE THE ONE TO WALK ALONG. LESS EYES ON THE SURROUNDING ITEMS I SUPPOSE. I TURN TO THE LEFT AND WALK ALONG THE EDGE. END TEXT.[/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/15#post_34429789]<--- PREVIOUS ENTRY[/url] [right][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/23#post_34456755]NEXT ENTRY --->[/url][/right]
Username: Stormdragon
User ID: 5665
Dragon Name: Echo
Dragon Picture:
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DATA LOG: JULY 25 OF 2018. THUNDERCRACK CARNIVALE.
LOCATION: THE BAZAAR.

BEGIN TEXT.
I SIGH. LOOKS LIKE I'M REALLY WRAPPED UP IN WHATEVER NONSENSE THAT IS HAPPENING AROUND ME BECAUSE OF THE CURSED ARMBAND. THE DROUGHT WAS TASTY, AND I SAT AT THE BAR SIPPING IT AS I WAITED FOR AN ANSWER FROM THE BARKEEP. HE FINALLY TURNS HIS ATTENTION BACK TO ME AND INTRODUCES HIMSELF. I CAREFULLY EXPLAIN THAT I'M LOOKING FOR SOMEONE; AN OLD DRAGON CALLED ENZUL, IS ALL I COULD DECIPHER FROM MY FRAZZLED MEMORY.
HE DIRECTS ME TO THE JUNKYARD. HOW POETIC, I THINK, THAT I BEGIN MY HELL OF A DAY IN A JUNK STORE, AND NOW I'M HEADING TO THE PLACE WHERE JUNK IS SUPPOSED TO BE. IN THE TRASH. BEFORE I CAN EVEN START ASKING QUESTIONS YET ANOTHER OVERLY EXCITED, TALKATIVE DRAGON SHOWS UP AND INTRODUCES HERSELF AS SPARKPLUG, THE EXACT DRAGON THE BARKEEP HAD RECOMMENDED. I WAIT IMPATIENTLY UNTIL THERE IS A SLIGHT PAUSE IN HER SPEAKING AS SHE RUSHES FORWARD AND TRIES TO GRAB "ONE OF ANDY'S PROJECTS" THAT IS NOW ETCHED ONTO MY ARM. I AM LOOKING FOR THE OLD DRAGON NAMED ENZUL I SAY QUICKLY, AND RATHER LOUDLY.
A WRY SMILE SPREADS ACROSS THE NOCTURNE'S FACE, SHE CLAIMS SHE ALWAYS KNOWS WHERE ANDY IS, IF I DO A TASK FOR HER. THE TASK IS TO FIND AN OLD PIECE OF MACHINERY LOST IN THE JUNKYARD...
SHE THANKS ME AND BOUNDS OFF WITHOUT AN ANSWER FROM ME. I GUESS. WHATEVER I NEED TO DO TO GET THIS THING OFF ME AND HAVE THESE STRANGE DRAGONS LEAVE ME ALONE. THERE ARE TWO PATHS THROUGH THE JUNKYARD THAT I CAN EASILY PICK OUT AND WALK THROUGH, ONE THROUGH THE MIDDLE AND THE OTHER ALONG THE FENCELINE.
I CHOOSE THE EDGE ALONG THE FENCE. IF WHATEVER I'M LOOKING FOR IS REALLY LOST I THINK THE LESS-TRAVELED PATH WOULD BE THE ONE TO WALK ALONG. LESS EYES ON THE SURROUNDING ITEMS I SUPPOSE.
I TURN TO THE LEFT AND WALK ALONG THE EDGE.
END TEXT.


<--- PREVIOUS ENTRY
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[center][url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/15#post_34428442]Previous Post[/url] - [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2487827/25#post_34466011]Next Post[/url][/center] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=35045691] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/350457/35045691_350.png[/img] [/url] [item=rusty golem] Emera felt a bit bad about waking the Fae, but he seemed to be her only option. Gingerly, she shook him awake. Though it took a few shakes, she was relieved when he finally awoke; she was honestly getting kind of worried that he wouldn't wake up, because that's usually a bad sign. When she told him about Enzul, and he told her that he'd only tell if she picked up a package for him, she felt more than a bit miffed; honestly, first she had to buy a very unappetizing scorpion - which she forced herself to eat anyways, since she was pretty starving - and now she had to go grab a package, and she's gotten all of nowhere. As she left the restaurant - taking care to check that no one was specifically watching her - she was about to give the directions to Hyperion when she felt the strange, static-y pain lance through her. First it was there, all encompassing, and then... it was gone. Blinking, she glanced down at herself, sucking in a breath when she saw the tattoo peaking out of the collar of her coat. She swallowed; she glanced down at the directions, and despite her misgivings about it, she felt she had no choice. After all, it was just [b]picking up a package for the Fae[/b], it couldn't be that bad, could it? Not that she had much choice, unless she just wanted to wander around uselessly and hope Enzul would turn up... Carefully placing the paper through the specified slot on Hyperion's back, she waited for a moment as he processed the information before following him down the road towards the market, hoping this wouldn't take up too much valuable time.

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Emera felt a bit bad about waking the Fae, but he seemed to be her only option. Gingerly, she shook him awake. Though it took a few shakes, she was relieved when he finally awoke; she was honestly getting kind of worried that he wouldn't wake up, because that's usually a bad sign.

When she told him about Enzul, and he told her that he'd only tell if she picked up a package for him, she felt more than a bit miffed; honestly, first she had to buy a very unappetizing scorpion - which she forced herself to eat anyways, since she was pretty starving - and now she had to go grab a package, and she's gotten all of nowhere.

As she left the restaurant - taking care to check that no one was specifically watching her - she was about to give the directions to Hyperion when she felt the strange, static-y pain lance through her. First it was there, all encompassing, and then... it was gone. Blinking, she glanced down at herself, sucking in a breath when she saw the tattoo peaking out of the collar of her coat.

She swallowed; she glanced down at the directions, and despite her misgivings about it, she felt she had no choice. After all, it was just picking up a package for the Fae, it couldn't be that bad, could it? Not that she had much choice, unless she just wanted to wander around uselessly and hope Enzul would turn up...

Carefully placing the paper through the specified slot on Hyperion's back, she waited for a moment as he processed the information before following him down the road towards the market, hoping this wouldn't take up too much valuable time.
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|| She/Her || FR+3/+0 || INFP || Demi x3 || Lore Clan || Eternal Acolight ||
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[b]Username:[/b] rubyredtan [b]User ID:[/b] 340 [b]Dragon Name:[/b] Tigris [b]Dragon Picture:[/b] [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=6020150] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/60202/6020150_350.png[/img] [/url] Tigris was grateful that that the drink wasn't poison and it ease his feelings it only for a moment. He followed the bartender's instructions to the letter only to be met with another favor another. Dragons loved to make request to strangers that they just met here. Any who, he decided to take the middle path. If something is missing maybe that is because it got struck here.
Username: rubyredtan
User ID: 340
Dragon Name: Tigris
Dragon Picture:
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Tigris was grateful that that the drink wasn't poison and it ease his feelings it only for a moment. He followed the bartender's instructions to the letter only to be met with another favor another. Dragons loved to make request to strangers that they just met here. Any who, he decided to take the middle path. If something is missing maybe that is because it got struck here.
[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=41666693] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/416667/41666693_350.png[/img] [/url] [/center] Pinwheel hurried out of the bar, hoping to find someone a little more knowledgeable and willing to talk without doing pointless favors. He was making his way through the stalls and buildings when a voice caused his heart rate to skyrocket. Wasn't Andraste supposed to hold them off? He hadn't been in the bar long—or did every officer in the Emporium know to be on the lookout for him now? The thought was terrifying, and Pinwheel did the first thing he could think of—he ran. Darting through the stalls, Pinwheel did his best to try and slow his pursuer down. There was no point in being subtle if people were already on the lookout for his strange tattoo. He needed to get away and find Enzul as fast as possible, or this wouldn't just be his last time he visited the Emporium, it would be the last thing he ever [i]did[/i]. He only had a split second to try and stop himself before he fell into the pitfall, but Pinwheel was quick; he skidded to a halt, then started to move in the other direction... Only for the Mirror to slam into him. Together they fell down, rapidly becoming engulfed by the foul scent of sewage. As he stood the Mirror introduced himself, but Pinwheel wasn't going to stick around for anything more than that. Despite the warning, he turned tail and [i]ran[/i].
Pinwheel hurried out of the bar, hoping to find someone a little more knowledgeable and willing to talk without doing pointless favors. He was making his way through the stalls and buildings when a voice caused his heart rate to skyrocket.

Wasn't Andraste supposed to hold them off? He hadn't been in the bar long—or did every officer in the Emporium know to be on the lookout for him now? The thought was terrifying, and Pinwheel did the first thing he could think of—he ran.

Darting through the stalls, Pinwheel did his best to try and slow his pursuer down. There was no point in being subtle if people were already on the lookout for his strange tattoo. He needed to get away and find Enzul as fast as possible, or this wouldn't just be his last time he visited the Emporium, it would be the last thing he ever did.

He only had a split second to try and stop himself before he fell into the pitfall, but Pinwheel was quick; he skidded to a halt, then started to move in the other direction... Only for the Mirror to slam into him. Together they fell down, rapidly becoming engulfed by the foul scent of sewage.

As he stood the Mirror introduced himself, but Pinwheel wasn't going to stick around for anything more than that. Despite the warning, he turned tail and ran.
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Ray / FR+3
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[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=39927928] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/399280/39927928_350.png[/img] [/url] [size=2][i]Reynaldo in his...festive frock.[/i][/size][/center] Reynaldo felt much better after his little snack. In truth, swallowing the scorpion was the hardest part. Although he was acquainted with the candied delicacy, it appeared that he hadn't acquired the taste for the Shifting Expanse's variety. In any case, he had a lead. Reynaldo counted a few coins out of his treasure pouch at his side and gave them to his host. After nodding a farewell, the Skydancer slipped away to the corner of the dingy room, where the din of the restaurant was softer, but the aroma of food was strong as ever. The Fae wasn't quite himself, Reynaldo knew that much. Whether it was the warmth of the room or the number of refreshments, he wasn't sure, but Reynaldo hoped this Carrock fellow would be open to conversation. Reynaldo squatted on a stool next to the Fae, back against the wall, watching the customers enjoying themselves at the restaurant. "The Pearlcatcher fellow up front told me you knew someone I'm looking for." He paused, glanced at the Fae, and took a double take. The little dragon was drooped more than usual. In a fit of impatience, and Reynaldo seized his shoulders and shook hard until Carrock came to. "I'm looking for someone," Reynaldo repeated simply. He cast his gaze at the ceiling, closing his eyes. "Enzul...a funny name for a dragon..." One eye opened and peered curiously at the fae for his reply. But he did. Reynaldo politely smiled as the Fae shoved a piece of paper at him. He accepted the parchment quietly. It was the usual business. A favor for a favor. "Well, I must be going out. It appears I have business in the market to attend to. Farewell." Reynaldo ducked out of the inn and was picking through the road, thinking it might be time to read the instructions on the parchment, when his body attacked him. Well. It was really the armband. But when one is attached to the other, the lines between the two become blurred. Something like an electric current ran through his arm, numb, aching at first, but quickly building to little stabbing knives piercing up his arm, his shoulder, across his chest. The tattoo spread with it. Alarm shone in Reynaldo's eyes but he tried his best to act calm. He tugged at the cloak clasp in an attempt to cover a small portion of the tattoo that the disguise failed to cover. The sooner he found Enzul, the better. Reynaldo would [B] find that package,[/b] or die trying.

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Reynaldo in his...festive frock.

Reynaldo felt much better after his little snack. In truth, swallowing the scorpion was the hardest part. Although he was acquainted with the candied delicacy, it appeared that he hadn't acquired the taste for the Shifting Expanse's variety.

In any case, he had a lead. Reynaldo counted a few coins out of his treasure pouch at his side and gave them to his host. After nodding a farewell, the Skydancer slipped away to the corner of the dingy room, where the din of the restaurant was softer, but the aroma of food was strong as ever.

The Fae wasn't quite himself, Reynaldo knew that much. Whether it was the warmth of the room or the number of refreshments, he wasn't sure, but Reynaldo hoped this Carrock fellow would be open to conversation.

Reynaldo squatted on a stool next to the Fae, back against the wall, watching the customers enjoying themselves at the restaurant.
"The Pearlcatcher fellow up front told me you knew someone I'm looking for."
He paused, glanced at the Fae, and took a double take. The little dragon was drooped more than usual. In a fit of impatience, and Reynaldo seized his shoulders and shook hard until Carrock came to.

"I'm looking for someone," Reynaldo repeated simply. He cast his gaze at the ceiling, closing his eyes. "Enzul...a funny name for a dragon..."
One eye opened and peered curiously at the fae for his reply.

But he did. Reynaldo politely smiled as the Fae shoved a piece of paper at him. He accepted the parchment quietly. It was the usual business. A favor for a favor.

"Well, I must be going out. It appears I have business in the market to attend to. Farewell."

Reynaldo ducked out of the inn and was picking through the road, thinking it might be time to read the instructions on the parchment, when his body attacked him.
Well. It was really the armband. But when one is attached to the other, the lines between the two become blurred.

Something like an electric current ran through his arm, numb, aching at first, but quickly building to little stabbing knives piercing up his arm, his shoulder, across his chest. The tattoo spread with it.

Alarm shone in Reynaldo's eyes but he tried his best to act calm. He tugged at the cloak clasp in an attempt to cover a small portion of the tattoo that the disguise failed to cover. The sooner he found Enzul, the better. Reynaldo would find that package, or die trying.
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Collecting moth food and familiars.

Have a great day!
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[center][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=15418829] [img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/154189/15418829_350.png[/img] [/url][/center] With a grumble, Fuse starts off down the path that leads through the center of the junkyard. This day is becoming more and more troublesome as it goes on. Being passed around from dragon to dragon, with not a single answer [i]yet[/i], is highly frustrating. And that strange tattoo seems to be glowing brighter and covering more of her hide every time she looks at it. At least she's not likely to encounter any overly-curious, or overly-[i]dangerous[/i], sorts out here in the junkyard. Kicking a bent old pipe out of her way with perhaps unnecessary force, Fuse swings her head from side to side, scanning the heaps for the piece she's looking for. Going around would be a waste of effort; the thing you're looking for is always right in the middle of the pile, in the most inaccessible spot possible. If this latest task doesn't finally lead her to some answers, she's gonna have to start biting.

With a grumble, Fuse starts off down the path that leads through the center of the junkyard. This day is becoming more and more troublesome as it goes on. Being passed around from dragon to dragon, with not a single answer yet, is highly frustrating. And that strange tattoo seems to be glowing brighter and covering more of her hide every time she looks at it. At least she's not likely to encounter any overly-curious, or overly-dangerous, sorts out here in the junkyard.

Kicking a bent old pipe out of her way with perhaps unnecessary force, Fuse swings her head from side to side, scanning the heaps for the piece she's looking for. Going around would be a waste of effort; the thing you're looking for is always right in the middle of the pile, in the most inaccessible spot possible.

If this latest task doesn't finally lead her to some answers, she's gonna have to start biting.
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