Parleydin shrugs is massive shoulders. "I'm 'fraid I don't know anything about invokers. As fascinating as Lillith's shenanigans are to Kayn here, They always blew right over my head. I just tend to the beasts here and sell them to the right buyer."

Entering Parleydin's home, you see that the main level is set up like a shop, and a stack of brochures about his various creatures scattered on the floor. He bends over to pick them up and places them back on the table near the entrance. "I'm grillin' the steaks out back." he says as he motions to the back door. Moving through the door, you see the back of his house has a large balcony built, which grants a stunning view of the red and white mountains which his house rests snugly against. Below, you see a handful of creatures: lagacs and hurdas, which graze or hunt across the large plains, and a ventcrawler huddled up against the base of the mountainside. In the air, a pair of griffins soars through the skies, their brown and white feathers reflecting the suns' light from above, returning to a nest built into the mountain. Seeing the group eye the griffins, Parleydin speaks up, "I've had those two for about two years now. The price of them is high, and on top of that, they're picky about who they let ride. They've already bucked off several interested buyers while in the air, only to catch them and fly them back to the ground before taking off again... kinda like felidar [massive horned cats who exemplify white mana]. But one day, I think it'll work out. They seem to like being here though."

"Oh!" he shouts out, laughing. "They even bucked Kayn off one time when he was a little.....er goblin. I'll never forget that day."

The griffins were two of the most gorgeous creatures Vesra had ever seen. "Do you think I could try?" Vesra asked, eyes wide. "To ride one?"

Parleydin laughed some more. "I've never seen 'em accept a rider for longer than five minutes, but I suppose it won't hurt." He pulls out a large horn off of his belt and blows into it, the sound echoing on the mountainface. In response, the griffins cry out, swooping back around and heading towards the group.

Vesra took a deep breath before casting Speak With Animals on herself. Hello friends, my name is Vesra, she said to them. What are yours?

One of the griffins lands on the balcony itself, while the other circles around in the air above, creating a moderate wing. The griffin on the balcony shrieks in response. "Parleydin calls me Softfeathers and him Sharpbeak. You're the first who's actually been able to speak to us."

What would you like me to call you? Vesra replied, walking over and bowing her head as she approached. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and get to speak to you.

"Griffins don't have names. We know each other for who we are within," the one Parleydin called Softfeathers said. "If there was a name to call me, it would be Judge, for I see others for who they really are."

What do you see in me, Judge? Vesra asked, her curiosity piqued. 

The griffin stared straight at her, looking into the druid through her eyes. "Hope. Kindness. Doubt. Confusion. These ideals seem to personify you."

I've definitely been confused the past few days, Vesra laughs. I have a favor to ask, if you don't mind too much. I was wondering if you would take me up flying? It's alright if you don't want to, I just thought it never hurts to ask.

"You wish to soar through the skies? Why?" Judge asked her.

It looks so beautiful, so free. Vesra replied honestly. And it is something I've never done before.

"So to pursue new heights, is that it? A fair enough reason." Parleydin looked back and forth, confused, until Judge lowered his head and shifted his body down, allowing Vesra to climb onto him.

I'm warning you, I'm not always the best on my feet, Vesra said as she clambered onto his back. How do you want me to position myself so it's most comfortable for you?

Judge squawked in what sounded almost like a laugh. "Just hold onto my neck and if you fall I'll probably catch you." With that said, he flapped his wings and went into a sprint, quickly taking off into flight, with the other griffin close behind him. Within seconds Vesra was soaring through the air, granting her a fantastic view of the vistas and beauties of Akoum. The sun glistens with the waves of the sea, Affa itself becoming a smaller and smaller city as you soar higher and higher. The red and white rock is vibrant, encompassing her entire view as she looked north.

Kayn is all smiles as he enters the house, "Do you think Lillith will mind if we poke around upstairs? There's a couple books I'd like to borrow." 

Kayn remembers that time on the Griffon, it was exhilarating! He thinks the griffon bucked him off because he was screaming his ass off mid-flight. It was great! The smell of the steaks waft through the air and both Kayn and dog-Kayn begin to drool. He tries to focus on business at hand though, "She won't even miss them!" 

Watching Vesra in the sky was amazing.  She rode the griffon like a pro. Vashie should have been here to see it. He made a note to tell her when they saw each other again.

Kayn laughs audibly and the dog next to him snickers. He invites Vasha into the house and points into the sky out the back door. "They never let people ride. She did it first try!" He exclaims. "Come in, have some steak. It's fresh!!" 

Kayn watches in amazement at the aerial performance. She was kissed by Zendikar, that's for sure.

All throughout the dinner Veythe focused mostly on the food and drink, her exhausted mind incapable of even saying anything to Vielara at this point. Instead she watched the table explode, watched Vasha and Vesra, watched Kayne, and a part of her wanted to interject as well--to tell Vielara off because what did the women expect? She hadn't seen the way Orel acted, she hadn't been in those caves. If anything Veythe understood Vasha and respected her for the death of the fool. While yes it was a little frustrating that she apparently slit the man's throat after knocking him unconscious, but it was a better death in the end. Veythe doubted drowning would have been any fun.

With a tired sigh she kept her mouth primarily shut. The details about the three 'tests' they survived, and then this sprung upon them 'fourth' -- coupled with the actions of the day, left her mentally exhausted as well. Veythe grabbed the coin, and when they were offered guidance to their rooms she continued to follow in silence. Later, Veythe decided, she would seek out the sisters. While she wasn't certain Vasha needed any more confirmation that her deed was right, and Vesra could handle her own despite being cute, Veythe wanted to at least get to know them better. She touched the flower nestled behind her ear.

They were so interesting.

In the morning, Veythe promised herself, in the morning. Once back into her "rooms" so to speak she settled down for a nice bath to clean away the grit and grime and feel of salt along her. She didn't rest at first, instead pulled out each of her children and tended to them--washed away the stains of salt and then frowned. She'd have to go and get some proper materials for care--a few oils for the wood, some rags--since apparently she lost those at some point. Ah, well, shopping in the morning. Maybe a good drink.

Or a good time. Either worked.

When morning finally dawned, Veythe fully rested, it becomes quickly obvious that compared to the rest of the party she'd slept in. Nasty habit, should work on that. She ate quickly, probably not her best and brightest idea but she wanted to get out a little. Have some fun. Relax. Relaxing sounded wonderful. Once she'd had some food Veythe slipped away and headed towards the bazaar.

When she arrived Veythe spun in circles, a wide smile on her face. Oh what a wonder this was! Veythe bounced with excitement. She should definitely be able to find some decent oils to tend to her instruments, perhaps a few new strings as well for Resonance, the dulcimer, Reason, the lyre, and Rhythm, her lute. She also looked around to see if she could find someone to sell her old armor to--no reason to keep it when Orel had something perfectly fine for her to use and it wasn't like he was using it anymore, anyway. Plus she needed something...else. Something she could throw or fire--perhaps a crossbow, a few more daggers to join Angel within her arsenal if possible. So she searched out an armorer and any place that sold weapons.

Veythe also kept an eye out for the others of the group, especially Vesra or Vasha. She'd even made sure to place the flower back where Vesra had given it to her last night. She quite liked the flower. If she happened to run into Ato as well Veythe wouldn't mind--the mer himself was interesting. Perhaps even Ellangil would be nice to talk to; she didn't get quite a good feel for him yet and she'd rather learn what she could of the man who helped protect their backs.

After breaking away from Kayn and Vesra, Ato allowed himself to... melt into the flow of the city and feel it's rhythm. He hadn't had much chance to get a sense of the place before Vielara's tests, and to accomplish what he had in mind, he'd need to take it's pulse. Affa wasn't his city, he'd found his true calling in Nimana and knew it better even than Sea Gate, where he grew up. Nonetheless, a city was a city, in many ways, so similar when you got into the dark corners.

As he wandered, he watched, seeing how things were here, asking a question of a begger here and a street urchin there, greasing the occasional palm until he'd ferreted out what he needed. Rumors of Vielara were everywhere, of course. The trick was always separating the gold from the dross. She was a power-monger, beyond doubt, ruling by way of fear more than anything else, through a well-earned reputation as well her prestige in the city and by her vampiric nature. It was difficult to get people to talk - far too many who'd gotten on her wrong side ended up missing, dead... or worse. Most feared she had eyes and ears everywhere. Not only here in Affa, but the word was her that her web covered far more: Sea Gate, Zulaport, Nimana, Malakir. Part of that at least, he knew for fact.  He'd heard of her in Nimana, of course, and had travelled here as a result.

Ato spoke to those who knew of Parleydin, Lillith, even Kayn surprisingly, but heard nothing which caused him any worry. Parleydin was a strict taskmaster, drove a hard bargain, but by all signs was a good and honest man. Imagine that, and still a successful businessman!

In a dingy, dirty dockside tavern he finally learned the last few bits of information, which let him put it all together. In his mind, it made sense. All the pieces fit too neatly. He'd heard rumours, legends really, of the mythical figure known as the "Black Baron." Anyone who'd ever spent any time at sea, or even just in a port town had. His "organization", the Blackfeet, was ruthless, and well-known for leaving a black footprint near their victims, just to be sure everyone knew who had claimed the kill. It appeared that the mysterious shadow figure behind it all, the Black Baron himself, may be none other than Vielara.

His newfound sources seemingly exhausted, Ato felt satisfied with his days work. The suns were getting low on the horizon and it was time to rejoin the others at the Teklentar Expedition House and find out just what their new employer had in store for them all.

Flying was exhilarating, one of the greatest feelings in the world! Vesra was ecstatic to be able to feel the rush of wind through her hair. By some miracle, she was able to hang on, never even beginning to slide off. The druid took the time to talk to Judge, who was a very wise creature.
After ten minutes of soaring through the skies, Judge took her back down to the ground. "You have a pure heart, Vesra, a rare quality in Zendikar," he said to her as she slid off him and onto the balcony. "Keep it pure and others will see so in the future."

Thank you, Vesra smiled, patting Judge on the head. I appreciate your wisdom and advice. She looked up, glancing about to find her sister had joined their little party. "Vashie!" She exclaimed, running over to give her a big hug. "I'm so glad you found us. Why are you on the floor?"

With her shopping finished—two new wonderful daggers and a crossbow, Veythe needed to think of a name for them; she’s sure it’d come to her; plus she’d gotten the oils and strings she needed!—and her old armor sold at a frustratingly low price, Veythe scanned the crowds, searching for Vesra, Vasha, Ellangil, or Ato. Any one of them would do. She also wondered, briefly, where the adorable little goblin went off too—probably with Vesra? She couldn’t be sure. She’d barely interacted with him, and she honestly wasn’t sure how to talk to him either.

After a moment Veythe spots the kor twins and Kayn over at Parleydin’s and she starts to head in that direction when she notes a pickpocket grabbing at a bag of coin. Well that just won’t do, Veythe thinks to herself. Thieves—Veythe couldn’t quite stand them. She understood the need, and if the need was true she’d offer up her own coin, but she’d rather not have them pickpocket some poor bystander.

Veythe steps up calmly next to the pickpocket and places a hand on his shoulder. She leans down and says, "Now that's not very nice, is it?" quietly.

He jolts, dropping the bag of coin, and tries to run away.

Veythe reaches out to grab him before he could escape, reaching for his arm, but he brushes her aside and runs off. Veythe races after him. She runs at him, intending to knock him to the ground, and she watches as he tumbles down.

He looks up with fear in his eyes, his voice shaking, pleading "Puh... please don't hurt me! I.. I'm poor and need the gold!"

Veythe kneels down beside him and looks him over. He’s lying, obviously.

"Psh, pull the other one," Veythe says with a grin. "It's got bells. Real reason, now, if you please."

"Wh... what? I've been living in these streets my whole life! Ain't nobody gonna hire me for working on them docks o'er there. Thievin's all I got, ma'am."

"Oh come now," Veythe pats his cheek. "Even I know that can't possibly be true! There's begging, and then plenty of work elsewhere aside from the docks I'm sure. So...as I said...real reason, please." Her tone is a bit harder on the please.

"The M... Maggot! He makes us get coin and do stuff, and then gives us a place to sleep. If I don't bring him coin, I don't get to sleep."

Veythe smiled prettily at him. "Now...was that so hard?" she drawls. "Tell me...where and when do you meet this 'maggot' of yours?"

"Heh." he laughs nervously. "You'll be meeting him soon enough, it look like."

Veythe frowns, not quite sure what he means, and she feels the bite of a dagger into her back. She hisses and whips herself into a position where she could see the bastard who dared to stab her while her back was turned. That just wasn’t right, damn it all. She dodges the next strike with a huff. Oh perfect.

The guy she knocked down pulls himself to his feet while she’s distracted and lunges at Veythe with his own dagger. Thankfully Veythe’s dodge works to her favor and he misses.

Veythe huffs in annoyance. "Oh you little shit." She slams her hands together. A loud, booming sound of thunder bursts from her hands; it shakes the ground for a second, rattles  through the area, but the two scallywags don’t even flinch. Well that didn’t work. They shift to attack her again, and Veythe snarls when she feels the bite of a dagger again.

Veythe dodges the other and quickly hooks his blade between hers. With a vicious grin she pulls him into a grapple. In her other hand Veythe pulls out her oldest, trusty dagger angel while she grapples her new human meat shield still. "Let's...think on this, shall we?" Veythe snarls. "I stab, or you stop." She makes a quick motion and prays the spell connects. When she feels that snap she grins.

 "Drop you blade, run into that wall."

Without even thinking the second scallywag drops his blade and quickly runs into the wall fifteen feet away. He stumbles, head bleeding, and turns back around.

A group of two women and a man come to see the noise. Seeing the lot of you fighting, one of the women screams and runs in the opposite direction, the other two continue to watch, terrified, yet entertained.

An audience, wonderful. That limited her spell choices. Veythe caught sight of the second scallywag grabbing his dagger again, and the first that she had in her grip tried to stab her. Veythe tightens her grasp and twists the blade a little to stop the attack. No more daggers, *******.

"Oh come now, I just made you run into the wall," Veythe said lightly. "If I wanted to I could have you run off a cliff, or into the crowd, or into the ocean. Do you really want to continue trying to kill me?"

The bleeding man snorts. "Child's play, your little magic games are."

"True enough," Veythe sighs. She makes a quick gesture, drawing out the needed components, and utters, "Sleep." She watches as both of the men drop. With a sigh she relaxes her grip and murmurs softly under her breath a little song.

“Oh my momma once said don’t worry baby. It’s just a scrape, don’t worry baby.”

The screaming woman returns with the guard. The guard, seeing your daggers, commands you to drop your weapons.

Veythe calmly drops her weapons. "I was stabbed in the back when talking with this dumb shit. He tried to rob me."

The guard clearly doesn't believe you, and advances toward you with his spear branded. One of the bystanders, seeing all of this, speaks up, "Tis true, sir! She kept on telling them to leave her alone!"

The second woman nods her head in agreement. "Aye, I saw it too."

The guard looks back and forth between the now-gathering crowd, yourself, and the thugs. He sighs, bringing his spear upward and nods his head. "Fine, fine. Your witnesses check out. Would you like to file a report or press charges against them?" He gestures to the two sleeping men.

"I'd love to press charges," Veythe says with a sigh. "Honestly can't a woman walk around without someone trying to steal her purse and stab her in the back?"

He shrugs, "Very well. If you'll come to the garrison we can fill out the paperwork there."

"Of course sir," Veythe says. "Whatever needs be done, I'd be willing to do." She'd rather kill them and be done with it, but using the law was good enough for now. "Please, lead the way. And can I pick my daggers back up, please?"

Before Veythe leaves with the guard, two more guards replace the guard who arrived and quickly arrest the two who attacked her. Veythe feels a thrum of satisfaction at that.

He nods his head, guiding you to a garrison stationed just on the opposite side of the Open Flame Bazaar, nestled amongst the buildings. Two guardsmen are stationed on either side of the gate, and a pair of crossbowmen patrol from the flat roof of this two-story building. Nodding to the guard, they open the wooden doors of the stone building. Walking inside, you follow closely behind the guard, noting the numbers of soldiers. You count about 18 guardsmen within the building as you make your way through to the back corner, where a small room sits with a desk and a pair of chairs. He offers for you to take a seat, leaving for a moment and returning with a small stack of papers. "Here in Affa, we are focused on providing quality care to both those who visit and those who live here." You sense that he's droned on with this speech dozens of times, as if it was some rote memorization. It carries on for a good minute before he asked you to describe what happened.

Veythe explains how she'd just finished up her shopping and was going to join her companions at Parleydin's when she noticed the first one try and grab her purse. She stopped him and asked him why he thought stealing was a smart idea, and while she was preoccupied with berrating the man the other showed up and stabbed her. She explains the fight, is fairly honest about everything that happened, and her tone is annoyed--she's frustrated that the guy got the drop on her, and frustrated that she'd expended her spells trying to stop them. She makes sure to tell the guard she did not attack them, merely tried to incapacitate them.

He writes down notes, repeating bits of what she says in a monotonous tone. Nodding his head once he finishes, he asks, "Their public execution will be held in the Pits of Cakorot in two weeks time, if you would like to watch. All Affa Watch-sponsored events are free to the public."

"Thank you," Veythe said amicably. Well they were going to die then, alls well that ends well, she supposed. "If I may leave? I want to make sure I catch up to everyone before they disappear on me again. I woke up late."

"Sure, you're free to go, ma'am." He escorts you back to the bazaar, where he awkwardly salutes you before returning to the garrison.

Veythe turns her attention toward Parleydin’s, seeking out the kor twins she saw earlier. She arrives just in time to see Vesra land from the back of the griffin and glances to Vasha. Did she honestly ride that thing?

“Well that’s…something,” Veythe says. She doesn’t know how to feel. Why in the hell would the girl ride a griffin of all things?

"That was amazing Vessie!" Kayn says as she rushes over to Vashie. Hearing a noise behind him, he turns and sees the bard in the front doorway. "Oh...? The bard is here!" He exclaims, happy to see that more than half the team came to visit his home. He never got the bard's name, she very rarely interacted with the goblin. The sight of her favoring one side makes him curious, and he notices the slight spattering of blood on her leathers. "I think she's injured," he adds, looking over at the two Kor. That's when he notices Vashie's hands, bandaged as they were. Both are injured, maybe.

There wasn't very much he could do with an injury, but he was curious nonetheless. Kayn invites the bard to sit down and calls over to Parleydin, "It looks like two of my friends got hurt in the city," he says, "Do we have anything that might help them?" Normally Parleydin would pull out the cider when one of them got bit, kicked, or trampled by one of the newest pets they were training. Usually accompanied by Parleydin announcing, "Walk it off!" while handing them a huge mug full of it. For some reason that always seemed to help. 

"Hands," Vesra said sternly, unwilling to wait for her sister to ask for help on her own. Her sister reluctantly complied, and she began to unwrap the messy bandages currently wrapped around them. "Oh, Vashie," the druid gasped, gazing down at the bloodied knuckles.

Why were you punching rocks? She signed, her brown knit with worry. The older twin didn't wait for an answer, instead pulling out herbs and fresh bandages from her own pouch. I'm sorry, this may sting a bit, she signed again before applying a poultice to her sister's knuckles and then wrapping them with care. It wasn't great, definitely a rush job, but it was better than before.

"You're not a failure," Vesra whispered. Unfortunately, this was another talk for later. Vasha had left the Guild, something Kor rarely do. She had said that she would never go back, so why now? Vesra shook those thoughts away, knowing that Veythe was a slightly more pressing problem. 

"Alright, what happened to you?" The druid asked, almost jokingly. Her expression suddenly became more serious as she noticed the blood. "Oh Veythe," she murmured, placing a hand gently over the wound on her back. She took a deep breath before tapping into the mana, the heart, of Zendikar, and casting Cure Wounds on the bard. After the spell had been cast, she felt dizzy, drained even. "Better now?" She asked, her hand not leaving its spot on the human's back. 

"Just a spot of trouble with a pick-pocket," Veythe said with a smile when Vesra asked. "I handled it pretty well, all things considered." She was still a bit annoyed about getting stabbed in the back. Veythe needed to work on her awareness--that just wouldn't do.

When Vesra touched her back, Veythe blinked in surprise. She honestly didn't expect the girl to heal her--although she should have, now that Veythe thought about it.

"Much, thank you." Veythe looked over towards Vasha. "Is she...is she ok?"

"Why do you all keep on getting into trouble when I'm gone?" Vesra said lowly. She looked back over at her sister, concern written all over her face. "Physically, she'll be fine..." While the druid happened to quite like Veythe, she wasn't about to go telling someone else Vasha's whole life story. It was up to Vasha to decide who knew what about her.

"Thank you for the help, Parleydin, Judge and I had such a wonderful time," Vesra left Veythe's side to thank their host. "Do you have any food left?"

Parleydin shrugs his shoulders. "Eh, she probably would, Kayn. But that's never stopped you before, right? With you going off on your expeditions, I think she's planning on upgrading her housing. She's slowly been clearing her stuff out, so you'll just have to see what books are still remaining." He scratches his head in confusion, revealing a bushel of armpit hair, and adds, "You wizards certainly are an ambitious lot. You come and you go when the wind takes you to different vistas, leaving behind the ones who brought you to those heights.... I suppose it's the cycle of life here in Akoum. It can only offer so much."

Parleydin was about to offer some cider and classic dad-advice, but seeing Vesra quickly tend to both of their wounds, he shrugs and turns his attention to Vasha. "Baby hurdas?" he asks quizically. "Why in the blazing suns would you want one of those? ... Eh, regardless, no, not yet. I got a mama hurda who's pregnant and pretty temperamental right now, but they won't be coming out for about five more weeks."

He returns to finishing cooking up the lagac. "Steaks are finished!" he calls out, bringing over a sizzling plate of pinkish-purple, scaley steaks, and plops them down on the table. "Oh..." he remembers, "I should probably get some plates and utensils. Kayn? You wanna handle that?"

Kayn hops to it, about to send dog-self out to carry them all back. But then he sees Vasha through its eyes, smells sadness on her, and stays, waiting for her approach. He's sure to let out a sigh as well as she pets him. 

Gathering up the plates and utensils was no easy task. Kayn had to hop up on a stool, dig into a cupboard for the plates, then search around for the utensils. He also produces a large steak-knife for Parleydin. He sets the table up, trying not to get any drool on the plates when he sees the steaks, and places the utensils next to each setting. "We'll only be there for a moment," he says as he sets up Parleydin's place, "And we'll leave a note saying exactly what we borrowed. I doubt she'll miss them!"