[Mythender]

[sadladsalad]

Eunæstae. The land of victory.​

Or so it seemed. Between the other civilizations and empires, this town was no different. If anything, it was rather sad.


At a glance, it almost appears as though the town was prospering, as it's tangerine and other citrus groves were growing well. The kids escape the closure in their homes in order to entertain themselves by throwing sticks or playing tag. And the adults would resume to working their merry way as always.


Yes. This is a town. A miserable town. Why? Can you not feel it? The oppression, the madness and overwhelming power of a god with an iron fist ruling over it? It is just... Insane.


So why would you come to such a damned place?

 

[sadladsalad]

Chrona furrowed her brows. The stench of myths were heavy, thick with miasma, though she could also pick up the scent of citrus not far off. The two scents would mix together to make an intoxicating concoction of a sour smogginess. She couldn't exactly say if she disliked it or not.


"..."


She glanced at the map one more time, in order to make sure she was the right place. Though there was a few subtle differences, she still couldn't say at all. Rendering it useless now, she folds the papyrus map properly and returns it in the belt of her pocket.


So this was Eunæstae, huh? It's more of a village than a town to be honest. A beautiful place as well. The hills rolled with the landscape and the sky was without a single cloud. Chrona walked along the dirt trail down to the area.


With each stride she took closer to the town, the sound of her heavy plate armor would clink in a steady rhythm. Chrona no longer notices such sounds, as she was attuned to them, however she cannot say the same for everyone else. As she passes through the streets, she finds the people around her eye her, whether it was mere curiosity or contempt. Perhaps a little bit of both.

 

[Gitmuny]

Emerging from the shadow of an alleyway, Willem fondled a coin purse in his pocket. The job was done, and oh boy did it pay nice. The task was simple, he wasn't sure why the pay out was so handsome, it was just another hit. He didn't bother to question it though, he had enough assets to his name to never have to worry in his life again. He had been doing these "jobs" for quite some time now, and was definitely good at it, perhaps, the best. He built a good reputation on himself, no one dared to even try and compete with him in this town.


He was hungry, and an orange stand was nearby, a perfect snack. Paying for something as simple as an orange just seemed silly to Willem. With ease the orange was in his possession, despite the rather busy streets at this time of day, no one would have noticed it. He brought out his blade, Nemesis, which he had holstered on his right hip, and cut the orange in two. Sheathing his dagger, and throwing the orange peels to the curb, he tugged on his mask just enough to expose his lips, and bit into a slice of orange.


Whilst walking his ears trained in on the sound of clanking. He looked up and noticed the rather large, gallant looking woman. Her armour was stainless, her cape flowed through the wisps of air as if it were waves. Noble, was the only word in Willem's dictionary he could use to describe such a sight. An idea proposed itself in his mind. Someone with attire of that caliber would obviously not have came from somewhere poor, and she definitely was not from around here. She was here for a reason, probably something of importance, and that meant she had a price.


He was quick to act, reaching her within a matter of seconds. Purposely bumping into her he acted a bit offended, "excuse me?" he said, in attempts to aggravate her, and take her mind off the fact that he just tried to pickpocket her, regardless if she noticed it or not. It was a waste of time. either she had her possessions tucked away someplace safe, or she had nothing on her besides some sort of paper. This individual seemed interesting however, perhaps they were in need of a shadow.

 

[sadladsalad]

The nerve of some people, honestly.


She didn't really expect much though, from a town like this. Perhaps others would have blindly ignored it, and others would have done something for the act of justice, but for her she merely followed an orange peel trail to a fruit vendor.


"Would you like some tangerines, Madame?" A frail old man asked.


Her maroon eyes studies him, he was indeed frail, almost in his near sixties. Other than his long white beard, one could tell he was completely bald under his cloth cap. His stall looks like it was repaired fourscore and two times plenty. Chrona is surprised that such a stall was still standing.


"These are not oranges?" She asked, holding a single tangerine up.


"No, these are tangerines grown in my son's mangroves," he answered, "Though people mistake them a lot for oranges, I understand."


Chrona observed the orange fruit in the palm in her hand, "What's the difference?"


"It's sweeter," he paused,"And small and easy to peel."


She tossed it in the air for good measure, "How much does it cost?"


"One coin each."


She kneels and reaches into her metal shin guards, and places some silver coins onto the flat surface of the stall. The old man thanked her, but notices something as she was about to leave.


"Madame, you paid me two coins? I only need one."


She continues walking, giving a simple wave to the man behind him, "I have paid for someone else."


He looks slightly confused, but shrugs anyway.


She tossed the tangerine in the air as she walks across the market. And old man selling fruit of all thing in the seedier part of town. But isn't sort of funny, though? Not one imperfection was seen on any of his stocks, yet he had such rickety stand and cheap prices.


Anyway, Chrona stops and smells the air. Miasma. Oranges. Smoke. And.... Ahah... She spots the familiar sweet citrus scent from earlier. Tangerines.


Like a rat, he blends into his surroundings well. If it were not for this sweet smell, it was plausible for Chrona to have never spot the rat again.


She quickens her pace, the clinking of her armor follows.

 

[Gitmuny]

Willem kept his distance, the woman still in sight. Trying his best to blend into the crowd of passersby. However, something triggered this woman into quickening her pace. What was a leisurely a stroll quickly turned into a somewhat panicked scurry after she had paid for some fruit at that same stand he had just burgled.


The fact that she knew he was tailing her didn't settle well inside Willem. Who exactly am I dealing with here? This just further added to the reasons why he needed to follow her. She definitely wasn't just an adventuring tourist.


Willem knew the streets of Eunæstae like the back of his hand. This was the one clear advantage he had over this person of interest. He disappeared into the shade of a nearby alley, and would surface later down the road, there was only a few possible places she could be going from her current position.


((short post is short, sorry aha))

 

[sadladsalad]

((It's all good, bro.))


His scent. It wasn't just a small sample of tangerines. His scent was unusually strong. Sweet like ambrosia, the drink of the gods. Yet, just as lethal. Chrona furrows her eyebrows in confliction. She reaches her hand out to grab his shoulder as they entered the alleyway, understanding whom exactly who this person may be.


Yet, he was gone. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he almost seemed to disappear in the shade. Like he almost became the shadow of the ally. Not a single trace of him was left behind. Not even his scent. Goddamit. She grit her teeth, balling her fists until it turned red.


She whispers incoherent mumbling, yet for some reason the words were loud and crystal clear.


"παύση"


Without warning, she strikes the cream colored walls with a completely black sword. Creating glowing sparks against the walls, she walks, pacing along the wall in a steady manner. It is a wonder how she was able to stand the sound of metal scratching without flinching. It was terrible and made it easy for one to grind their teeth.


"Come out!" she commands.