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Heron shakes his head and kindly returns her smile, "No need to beg for my forgiveness Miss, it was an accident. And why the sad expression? Did you lose something?"

He looks her over, disappointed that she is wearing a travelers cloaking and hiding what could very possibly be a gorgeous body. Internally he wishes that there were some way to get a little more time to spend with this woman.

[o.O I'm not exactly sure how to post to two different posts ^^' with one character]

"N-no." she cast her eyes down away from Heron. "It's just well, I seem to be in." she stopped a moment when she realized Faust had been speaking to her. "P-pardon?" she stammered looking to the man. "S-scrolls? O-oh no, these aren't mine, they're his." she gestured kindly to Heron.

She was slightly at an awe that she hadn't even realized Faust had been speaking with her. But of course not many would speak with her due to her quiet nature and her ability to blend into a background, if you could call it an ability at all. She frowned though at the mere thought of having neglected to take notice of him, thus making her feel a tad guilty. "I apologize." she began looking to Faust. "I must admit, I had not notice you were speaking to me." she added.

Heron gives the strange cloaked figure a bewildered look. Oh, how badly he wants to freeze the toad where he stood, turning any part of his body that held moisture into a hideous ice sculpture. Not because he finds the man dangerous, but because he was interrupting Heron's "game."

Though at the mention of the two of them being a couple Heron couldn't help but like the stranger for that. "Well, pft...y'know how it is." He says with great confidence and bravado.

It is then that it dawns on him. He thinks to himself, "He had asked about the tower, it'd better not be the old lady's tower."

"Say there sir, what tower are you talking about and why would I want to go with you?"

Heron looks directly into the man's eyes as he draws himself closer, and does not flinch as the man brings his talon's below his chin. As Faust continues on with his rant, Heron shifts the parcels from both arms to the left one. In his mind he could feel the temperature of his right hand begin to drop. In reality it wasn't, but this was how Heron envisions his freezing. A cold hand, a good grip, a frozen limb, then the rest of the body if nothing interferes.

When Faust drops back, Heron relaxes though still watches him with caution. Faust asks Heron if he can hear the call of adventure. The elf raises an eyebrow at him and says, "All I hear is your strange banter." He looks at the young lady and smiles sweetly, then looks back to Faust readying a witty quip, "Now Mr. Cacada was it? I can say with certainty that the Kae'dryn probably doesn't have any interest in adventuring. Now if you'll excuse me I must assist this poor lady as she was about to tell me something important before you so rudely interrupted." He turns his attention back to her and smiles again, "I do apologize m'lady, what was it you were about to tell me?"

Faust listened with crossed arms, his rippling metal chest clinking as he shifted. Faust grinned, then turned sharp, venomous eyes toward the boy. "Boyfriend. Pah!" Faust let loose a sharp crackling laugh, like rain on a metal roof. Faust then turned a fair hand to the girl. "I know this tower you speak of..Cyrillia? Yes that's it. I was on my way there not but an hour ago." Faust ruffled his books back into his hidden knapsack, his robes a gust of quick movements. "I forgot..my..thing.." Another movement, and Faust shoved a paper in front of her face. It was a rather old parchment, smelling of strange spice and magic. Upon it an ink blot sketch of a ring, simple but runic, lay upon it's front.
"Seen it anywhere? I've a mind to check the inn but.."
Faust seemed suddenly saddened, and his face screwed up under his hood. "It's most likely gone."
Faust was silent a moment, the crowd's heavy laughter and words rolling over him and his conversation like a stampede. A lapse in conversation, then he seemed to cheer up, almost ecstatic in his hand motions, waving about like an auctioneer. "But yes, the tower you seek is off away from this market!"
Faust gave her another strange look, then bent low to her level, like a father to a child, "You smell like elven magic. The taint of mint..Healing magic aye?" He smiled to himself, gloating inwardly at his advanced knowledge of magic.
He was always a show off for such exchanges.

The hand on his chest was one thing.
"Sniffing? My word.."
What came next out of the boy's mouth settled it.
---
An aura, faint but true, began to shadow Faust. It seemed the very air whispered, danced with a dark fragrance as Faust cocked his head to the side. "You...I have told you my name.." Faust whispered something sharp under his breath, something wretched and vile, something that caused his hands to shake and to rattle harshly.
Faust repeated the words.
"Raku'dellin."
The wind picked up sharply, sharp enough to fling Faust hood back, and his eyes, his once blue eyes..
They were jet black.
"You have 20 seconds. 20 elf. 20 to run away. 20 to look back and never run your eyes over me. 20 to flee for your life." A sharp twitch, and tiny burst of metallic spark twisted off of Faust's fingers. The market time air became heavy, too hot to breath in.
Faust began to repeat his words, his fingers clacking in tune.
He was beginning a destruction ritual.
Elves from the market square turned and stared, stared as the air became too insubstantial, too little. So heavy one could nearly cut it with a blade, around Heron.
"Raku'sallir."
10 seconds had passed.

Separated by meandering market dwellers and vendor stands, Aerith watches Heron interact with the golden haired maiden and the rather eccentric looking man. Azure eyes staring out from beneath her hood absorb the entire exchange, and as it plays out before her, a sneaking suspicion grows... one that tells her things are about to go horribly wrong. She rolls her eyes faintly when Heron pulls out the chivalry card, briefly contemplating the possibility that Heron's IQ actually drops with every bat of those fair, innocent eyelashes.

The thought is suddenly quashed, however, when she notices his hand connect with the rather odd character he seems to be arguing with. The darker robed man, who even from a distance seemed markedly unstable, appears to take the unwanted contact as an excuse to reek havoc upon the marketplace. Recognizing the shift in the weave as the spell forms, Aerith is surprised that the gentleman would try such a brazen attack in the middle of the Kael'doren market. Deciding she isn't interest in waiting for the authorities to subdue the situation, Aerith quickly slips her bow out from beneath the folds of her cloak. She cocks a particular enchanted arrow, saved specifically for occasions such as this, and aims for one of the ancient totems towering over the marketplace. These intricately carved pillars are dispersed throughout the city, and unbeknownst to most, are the hosts for much of the land's defenses.

Letting her quiver fly, it takes only a second or two for it to reach its mark. The tip makes contact with the runic engraving and a contingency flares to life; the arrow quickly reduced to ashes. Suddenly the entire marketplace is subjected to a powerful ripple of energy, the spell undulating through the crowds, dispelling any magical effects in its path. Abruptly the air clears as both the caster's rituals are unexpectedly negated. Faust finds the crackling at his fingertips fizzle even as the wave of frost coming towards him vaporizes into a harmless mist. The void created through the dispelling effect lingers in the area for some time, eliminating any possibility of getting another spell off any time in the recent future.

Content that the chances of a spell casting duel is now out of the question, Aerith's bow disappears back into her cloak and she moves into the rather disoriented crowd. The market springs to life with sporadic shouts for the city guards and the angry cries of the few unfortunate merchants who were using magics to maintain their more perishable goods. Carefully making her way through the mild chaos, she heads for the robed man and her retreating ward.

Cyrillia felt the sensation of a magic-reducer effect. The air and all its energies were swept from the area without so much as a trace, she could feel the strange and exotic chills from the spell the moment it set into motion throughout the small part of the Marketplace.

She shivered slightly from the feeling and held her cloak closely to her, hoping the feeling would change soon. She looked to Heron about to ask him what had caused the spell when Faust had shoved the old parchment back into their faces. She looked more closely to the ring and took some notice to it, it looked vaguely familiar. "I've seen that ring before." she pointed to the paper lightly.