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Then again, by his statement. All magic was little more than pipe dreams. Which said something for his interest in the magic of the region he was going to. However if she didn't question it, he wasn't about to bring up that flaw. Merely look for a way to rationalize it when he had time.

"Entirely correct." Only she could decide what she wanted, so obviously it was the conclusion to make. At least she was on the correct track at this point, even if it was a rickety, broken, and questionable track. It was her's to desire. "Be sure to gain something from your work." He added as a final note before thinking perhaps their conversation was done.

And then came her next comment. A friendly one wasn't she? Not that being polite was a bad thing. He frowned at the question, musing over it as he added the bit of information that was her name to memory. "Molan." He didn't have a lot to say to it, but it did seem the proper response. Along with... a 'nice to meet you~' chimed after. He wasn't so sappy that he was going to offer such up. Really, names weren't that interesting, just decorations to describe people. And greetings where frivolous things to make people think they liked one another or had something in common. Something to fill space.

"You say you have been lost in fantasy, Mayaa. What sort?" At least that topic was more intriguing that empty chatter. What did other's dream of? Desire secretly more than anything else?

Harland Belle was distracted by his thoughts, and nearly did not realize that the stranger was, in fact, addressing him. He didn't always work with gold clasps; he was a goldsmith, and a leatherworker. His favourite, really, was working on fine and sturdy leatherwear accented by gold. Occasionally he'd team up with a jeweler, to provide even more lavish accents.

Not that there was often a need for such things. "Thank you kindly," Harland replied, with a gleam of a smile that matched his clasp, "It'll go on a fine leather garment I only just finished. The cherry on top."

"My name is Harland Belle," he introduced himself, getting up and heading over just close enough to offer a hand in greeting.

As a side note, in the interest of friendly chatter, Harland moved back to his station but asked: "What is it you've got there?" As he talked, he folded his own wares up just as he was thinking about finding Alastair.

"Please forgive me for being so rude, but I am about to find my-- Alastair, I need to see about ambassador positions. Would you like to accompany me?" Harland extended an invitation to the new acquaintance.

[[OOC: Harland was already on his way to see Alastair, but if you'd like, Crispin is naturally welcome to come along!]]

[ Entering ]

It was the Market Day again, Arynek made a long sigh before setting up her little stall. The girl runs a small jewel shop which wasn't a great success because of her shyness. Her parents asked her out to train her social skills, although the girl has good insight over gems, she hardly made any businesses. Looking at the lovely gemstones shinning on the velveteen stand, she was a bit sad. "You should deserve a good owner, sorry....." A bit of tears coming out from her eyes, she was so sorry for the unsold beautiful jewels. Arynek really needed some money to feed her cats. Yes, the girl kept a group of stray cats. She used the money she earned to bring cat foods for them. Cats were meowing around her, tried their best to comfort the sad girl. "Thank you guys." The girl used her sleeves to wipe away the tears.

Like another Market Day, the girl decided to open her stall at the morning and close it at noon, switched to do some musical dance performances with her cats. When sunset, she will open her stall again to let the jewels shine up, hoping to attract more customers. She sat inside her little stall, listening to people's gossips about the kingdom. Something like their king is dying or already died and all different kinds of rumors were filling the air.


Her eyes rolled left and right as she heard that from a pedestrian. A beast underground? That would be a bit terrifying......She rested her head on her hands, she'd better ask her parents were they even true?

As a wild card, it was their responsibilities to earn their own living but Arynek probably not good at that. Being a jewel seller, it's her job to stock up small ores from those miners. The miners didn't have good knowledge on which ores can sell better which doesn't. They just sell them in bulk together, letting you pick what you want. So she needed to utilize her abilities to distinguish precious gems from cheap one. Cracking the ores won't be her jobs, but her parents. They would break the ores Arynek brought back and gave the girl the polished gemstone to sell on her tiny stall. Over-protecting wasn't their style, they let the amateur girl to fail and learn from mistakes. As what their king used to say: adpatation is key. The training started when Arynek was still a little girl, at first, her parents would like her to be jewelsmiths like them, however, when they discovered the girl's talent over designing, they let Arynek to open a stall and sell her own jewel design: bracelets, necklaces, headpiece, rings and even small pins. She was enthusiastic towards her work, jewels are always why the Neas proud of themselves.

Throughout the whole day, she did sell out one or two, however, the public obviously enjoyed their musical shows much more. She decided to close the stall a bit earlier today since there seemed won't be customers anymore. She tidied up her belongings, polished her shinny jewels a bit before closing the stall. Arynek made a big yawn as if she was a big kitten. It's time for a walk for the long work.

Ashamed of her doubts, Mayaa was staring down, hands absently picking at the basket. She heard a soft sigh, and looked up to see his head turn, looking away.

Oh dear, it seemed she was inconveniencing him, though his reply made her offer a small smile, even if he seemed unconvinced himself.
"I guess you're right. I shouldn't just assume."
She still felt uneasy, but at least she should learn to discover the truth with her own eyes. She wouldn't rely on rumours to confirm their kingdom's fate, and more than anything, she WANTED to believe the kingdom was fine, she wanted to-

At the sound of clattering pots and pans, she let out a small "eek"! and turned to see... a walking pile of trash? No wait, that was... the infamous Trash king? She hadn't seen him all that often, but had heard of him, and only watched him with wide eyes as he reprimanded some on their kingdom choice, and was shoved about by merchants.

Speaking of which, where WAS the king? And... what was so important that he needed to tell her something? What did he mean by suffer? And then Molan's question made her turn back towards him.

"Mad? I don't..."

There were so many questions going on in her head and she offered him an apologetic smile.

"I think I'm going to take some more time to see which kingdom I'll go to. I have some ideas, but I want to be completely sure, so I guess I'll go around to see what other information I can dig up. I hope you'll find what you're looking for in the Gold Kingdom!"

Clutching the basket close to her, she scurried off into the crowd.

Rosmiera been so busy looking for someone, she not only was startled by the clanking of pots, but she nearly bumped into a random person. With a small 'sorry', she turns her eyes on the infamous Trash King as he spoke out loud. What was he going on about today, and was he talking to something just now in his palm?

It was his final shout that made her arch a brow though.

What was the crazy man going on about, that they would all suffer?

Part of her was curious, but everyone knew Trash King was just a crazy person. Nothing he had to say really made any sense anyways, right? So why did his last part unnerve quiet a bit? Turning her eyes, she search the crowd, looking for another that had the same perplex look as herself.

Her eyes fell to one that spoke out, something about wanting to see evidence, and she had to agree with him on that matter. Only problem was, what if Trash King did have some? Closing her eyes, she chews on her bottom lip before opening again just in time to see Trash King sulking off.

"No...don't do it." she reprimanded herself softly. If she went towards Trash King, she knew it would mean problems for herself. Maybe she could just casually follow him for a moment? Just to see if he had anything to offer more?

Glancing around once more, she decides to slink through a few people, making her way towards the direction Trash King was heading. The whole time, acting as if she was looking at some of the items in a few stalls close by.

Alastair looked up from his stitching at the sound of a loud voice that might have been directed towards him. He blinked at the Trash King and watched with a curious look as the stooge began... talking into his palm? Alastair still wasn't certain if the Trash King was trying to get his attention or not, and tried to convey his confusion with the subtle tilt of his head.

"I was wondering if anyone's seen our King around, I have some important matters to dis-"

No, the King is not around. The King failed to show up for her Market Day speech, and is apparently dying if he bothered to believe the rumors. Alastair couldn't manage a response before the Trash King was practically trampled by hasty merchants, drawing a frown from the tailor's typically contented expression. When the Trash King recovered, it was clear that he was upset, but the next words that spilled from his face were rather strange. The words of a madman or a genius in disguise. Whatever the case may be, Alastair decided against perusing his curiosity with more questions. That hunt would doubtlessly turn up fruitless.

A familiar voice caught his attention and Alastair was distracted from his work once again. He looked up to see Harland accompanied by a stranger. An amused and mischievous smile writhed across his face, exposing fangs to give him an almost predatory appearance. "...The weather?" Alastair glanced around towards the windows and the atmosphere they revealed and then again at Harland, a subtle suggestion that he should already know the answer to that question. "It was raining the very moment before you arrived." An obvious lie delivered in a voice that would convey an exaggerated feeling of awe. It was meant to be a playful response, but could easily be interpreted as rude in contrast to Harland's polite demeanor.

Alastair casually leaned back in his chair again and turned his eyes to the shirt he was stitching. "Cut the fluff." He glanced towards the man in front of him expectantly. "You didn't come here because you were curious about the pattern of the winds." He then set his gaze on Crispin with the raise of his brow. "And who's your friend?"

Searching did him little good, if you could call it that. Mindlessly wandering the market was hardly searching. Unless you wanted to liken it to a needle in a haystack. While the Trash King stood out like a sore thumb, he was obviously moving. He'd long since deemed it a lost cost and merely wandered to clear his mind, listening to the conversations as he passed.

Something about pheasants, bread, armor? He wasn't at all interested in any of that. They were purchases for late in the day, when people were aiming to be rid of wares. Food items specifically were an easy buy later on, they didn't last long and no one would want something cooked today tomorrow. Or days later if one was traveling abroad. A wise man knew to hold his chips until later in the day.

He wandered past, finding nothing of rumors as he did, a false sense of security establishing itself once more with the silence. What people chose not to speak of was certainly false. It was merely the unease caused by the ever empty throne of sorts that once held the beacon of their prosperity. Once the King returned no one would speak such words again. Truly, it was nothing. Certainly.

He sighed lightly, closing his eyes as he took a few final paces and paused as he found himself nearly running into a table of neatly lined clothing. Things that suited their world so well, goodness knows some things made his own clothes seem gaudy in comparison. Though, at the same time some brilliant gold thread running along another set caught his eye, drawing a stare.

He was going to the land known for it's extravagance to an extent. Perhaps he should follow suit to a degree. Even if it was not to the same level. "Influenced by the other kingdoms then?" He commented, glancing for the keeper of the of the stall and spotting her after a moment.