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 Posted: Tue Dec 02, 2008 2:29 pm
She did intend to be true to her word, her mists gradually unweaving themselves from Mikaril's cloak until the only mist left was to keep track of him until they left the next shop. It wouldn't make sense to her for him to betray her just as she was letting him go, but then, she often didn't get why some people betrayed others in the ways they did.
His return apology only confirmed what her opinion of him had been turning towards, unless of course he decided to betray at the last instant as she was beginning to fear. No one thought of any others but themselves in the world of Drow, no matter what her mother had taught Valin to act like and how she had taught Valin to think, the rest of the world would not change. If Mikaril really meant what he had said and was not planning anything...
"Thank you," she said, straightening her shoulders and trying to retain her 'spoiled female' posture. The last thing she needed was to finally get somewhere only to ruin it by her own yet to be completed device. She cleared her throat and looked around, trying to pick out which would be theives' shops and which would have swords or weaponry in them. It had been years since she had really looked at the marketplace in any other direction other than provisions and open smithy wares. This ruly was practice for her, "Have you found a shop that might be what we're looking for?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 04, 2008 9:33 pm
Mikaril shrugged absentmindedly at Valin's thanks, trying to make it seem as though it wasn't that big of a deal. Truth be told, he was surprised by it; it wasn't often when he heard a female apologize for anything. He saw her assume her role as pampered and picky rich female and was quick to lapse back into his own role of stoic bodyguard.
He looked around and saw nothing that suited him; frowning, he continued to walk deeper into the marketplace until he was almost ahead of Valin, but not enough to make it seem as though he was more than a guard. Finally spotting a shop that seemed to consist of a hodgepodge of weaponry laid out willy-nilly like a forgotten game of sticks, Mikaril stopped and nodded, whispering to Valin out of the corner of his mouth. "This one has many weapons with no semblance of order to the selection; always promising."
He stood there and waited for Valin to take the lead, genuinely curious as to what she would tell the merchant, whom he saw lurking behind the table with the weapons, as though he were afraid of any customers that might venture a look at his jumbled wares. Either that or he was one short drow.
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