Fate - First Reply Interior Decoration

[Valkanthrandilax]

The winter months were as good a time as any for Valkan to get out of his lair. More importantly, it needed to be spruced up a bit, and Ragash's reputation for fine textiles drew his attention. A wiry black draconian weaved through the crowd, towering over the humans, sand elves, and beastmen who mostly either glared at him, turned or bowed their heads to avoid meeting his gaze, or stared at him in fright. Even in the more diverse Grand Bazaar, a draconian was an odd sight. Many preferred to bump up against each other to avoid him even in the packed bazaar. Some still had to dodge the long, thin tail that swished and waved behind Valkan.

He stalked the stands and stalls, a long, delicate, clawed finger tapping his thin lips as he inspected their merchandise. Instead of hawking their wares like they did with human passersby, most glanced nervously at the draconian. It was hard to tell where those pupilless purple eyes were looking. Finally, he came upon what he was looking for. He stopped and nodded, head turning slowly to look directly at each rug hung up before him.

The weaver fidgeted as Valkan scrutinized each rug. The draconian simply hummed quietly in thought as he compared them. Oh, perhaps his lair could do with multiple rugs. He could certainly afford it.

“These two,” he spoke in Kaliti as he pointed at the rugs, prompting the weaver to quirk a brow. Valkanthrandilax tilted his head. “Would you prefer I speak in the trade tongue?”

The draconian didn’t even allow the weaver to answer before he continued. “How much for these two?”

“Two gold each.” Valkan’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m well aware of the market here, particularly for these.” His voice lowered as he switched back to Kaliti. “I’ll pay—”

He was boring holes into the seller when he felt his tail crushed against the stone. He hissed and whirled around, wings flared open.

“Are you drunk or simply daft?” Valkan snarled. The glowing violet runes running down his sides pulsed.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

"This is amazing!" Igni said to her halfling companion, Pilly, who walked beside her litter. The Grand Bazaar was a melting pot of cultures, creatures, scents and sights which dazzled all of Igni's senses.

Pilly's eyes were likewise as wide as saucers. On her right walked Merina, a human lady, whose demeanour was much less enamoured.

"You don't like it, Merina?" Igni asked, shifting in her litter as it was carried by several of Gerra's strongest servants.

"It's... overwhelming, my lady," Merina said. "And very chaotic."

"It is that." Igni wondered if the two warriors Gerra had provided her with would be enough protection if there was an assassin present. Igni could protect herself, of course, though if she was taken by surprise, all her magical powers might be for naught.

One of the servants stumbled, and Igni had to grab the post of her litter to stop herself from falling out. There was a hiss beside her as two dark wings opened up.

“Are you drunk or simply daft?” Valkan snarled.

Igni's first instinct was to laugh, and laugh she did at this creature's display. But he was glaring at one of the strong men carrying her litter. Now matter how strong a human was, it was hard not to be intimidated by a draconian. Especially one that big and that glowed in the dark.

So Igni sat up in her litter.

"Is that a mating display, draconian? Or do you always glow like that when someone touches you from behind?" she said, hopefully drawing his attention away from the sweating servant. Igni pulled herself to the edge of the litter and looked down, guessing what had happened. "Perhaps more care with your tail is warranted in such a crowded place?"

Perhaps not the wisest choice of words, but she couldn't take them back. The guard before her had dutifully readied his spear, though even he looked terrified. She wondered if someone's blood was about to be spilled.

 

[Valkanthrandilax]

Expecting the comment to be ignored or for the offender to simply scurry away, Valkan initially turned back to the weaver, who shrank back in his stall after the draconian lashed out. The runes dimmed down to a faint glow, but they were still easily visible. However, his attention was once again ripped away from the rugs. He turned back around to see that he’d snapped at one member of a posse transporting a rather rotund woman. Valkan cocked a brow.

“I’m flattered that was the first thing you thought,” he laughed. “However, I must suggest you visit a brothel if that’s the first thing that comes to mind.”

He looked at the guard readying his spear, but he simply sighed and waved his hand dismissively before crossing his arms. Aside from the white cloth wrapped around his waist and a few bags hanging from a leather belt, there wasn’t a weapon in sight anywhere on him. Valkan’s tail curled loosely behind him. With his back to the weaver’s stall, this time it was out of the way of most traffic.

“I did move it specifically to avoid having it stepped on,” he said. He tapped his foot against the stone, his claws producing a distinctive click each time. “Perhaps your servants ought to take greater care to watch where they step. Or should I put on a light show so they can see? Or perhaps a pair of spectacles is in order?”

One particular rune started glowing brighter than the rest. The draconian snapped his fingers, and with a flash of light and a puff of smoke, said pair of spectacles popped into existence right in his claws.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

Igni's eyes widened.

"Ohh. I thought you meant a spectacle. Meaning an extravagant display of some sort. But you actually meant spectacles." She looked over to Merina, who looked, to Igni's surprise, rather terrified. For her sake she said, "And yes. I suppose I could say the blame lies with my servant. But to say so would be to incur his master's wrath, for the house of Gerra has an... unhealthy relationship with perfection, when it comes to his servants."

Merina twitched visibly, and Igni knew she had already spoken to freely.

"But perhaps I can make it up to you, and nothing more needs be said. I am Igni, a merchant from Alliria, trading in spices, gems and precious metals. Perhaps I can purchase something for you?" She waved to the weaver's shop, then stepped off her litter - far too easily for someone of her size - quickly standing beside the draconian.

 

[Valkanthrandilax]

Valkan just stayed stone-faced at the mention of Gerra. He didn’t know how he managed to get another dragon to agree to torch Ragash and its surroundings, and he also didn’t know if said dragon was still in his service. These servants seemed terrified enough, but as mighty as Valkanthrandilax fancied himself, he preferred not to tangle with people in power, especially if they had a greater power backing them. As for the rug, his greed and his pride were at odds with each other.

“Your generosity is much appreciated, Ms. Igni,” he replied. “I must decline your offer.” He paused, then cleared his throat.

“Perhaps an exchange instead?” he continued. “I am Valkan, and I am an artist by trade. I paint, I draw, and I sculpt. I can offer a painting three feet in height for the price of one of these rugs.”

He eyed the weaver.

“Which would be one gold and five silver.” The shopkeeper vigorously nodded. Valkan turned back to Igni. “I work quickly, and the piece will be finished with an enchantment to make it last a human lifetime at the very least, unlike these spectacles.” Said spectacles disappeared in a smoky cloud just the same as when they’d appeared.

“You could even watch if you so wish. I simply need a piece of wood to start to convert to a proper canvas. That would likely be the most time-consuming part.”

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

Igni looked up impressively at Valkan's display of creative power. "You are an artist indeed!" she said, a little enviously, but waved Merina and Pilly back with her hand in case trouble was brewing.

"A piece of wood should be easy," she said. "Merina, would you please purchase something made of wood for my new friend?" Merina bowed and scurried off, quickly. Igni realised she could have had one of the soldiers relinquish his spear shaft. But she didn't want to force them to turn in their only weapon. Speaking of which, they were still standing defensively, so she put her hand on one's muscular shoulder. "Be at ease. He won't hurt us."

I think.

A moment later, Merina returned with a small carved wooden figurine of a goddess - an idol of some sort. She handed it to Igni with a little bow, who then turned and handed it to Valkan.

"Will this suffice?"

 

[Valkanthrandilax]

His eyes followed Igni's servant as she left and then returned. Ah, how useful it must have been to have one at your beck and call. Valkan hummed as he inspected the figurine. Bark was the best due to its shape, but he had the skill and energy to mold this into a canvas. He'd done far more complicated things over the centuries.

“Quicker than I expected, truthfully. Yes, this would work.” He replied with an affirmative nod. He did quirk one brow as he inspected it, though. Gods, he hoped he some acolyte didn’t catch him committing blasphemy against their deity. “Now, let's get out of the crowd for a moment.”

He took the idol in his long, spindly claws, then spread his wings to wave off any passersby who wandered too close. At least no one was going to be stepping on those. Valkan moved toward the wall of one of the buildings. While there were still walkers, most tried to stick toward the center of the bazaar as they crowded around merchants’ stalls. All the while, his claws dug into the wood and carved out thin ribbons. The lines formed runes that began to glow faintly as he finished them. The idol began to deform, creaking as it thinned and spread into a flat surface before the wood turned to canvas.

The draconian hung it on the wall, light flashing from underneath it as it stuck. Tiny cracks threaded through stones underfoot as he drew energy from the earth to power his magic.

Although Valkanthrandilax tried to separate himself, curious shoppers still stopped at a distance and stared at the magical display. They didn’t step any closer, though.

Sweeping his claws across the canvas took the place of real brush strokes. Igni’s face quickly began to take shape on the blank canvas as he worked.

“Do you have a preference for background?” the painter asked.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

Igni was impressed, though she tried not to gape in awe. "Huh. Err, the skyline of Alliria; the city that made me rich?"
She studied her own face in the painting, a little shocked at just how round she had become. Of course, she saw herself every day in mirrors, but seeing someone create a drawing or painting (or creation, at least) of they saw her only served to drive the point home.

"You're very good at this," she said, not taking her eyes from the painting as it formed before her. "You must have a wonderfully-decorated home."

She looked over to Valkanthrandilax's reptillian face, hoping for a sign of emotion as he worked, but the faces of scaled dragons was too hard for her to read. Instead she examined his body language, his pose as he practiced his craft, the quiver of his talons as they manipulated the runes.

"You're very passionate about this," she surmised.

 

[Valkanthrandilax]

“Ah, grand Alliria,” Valkan mused. He hummed as his claws swept across the canvas, with bright blues and pastels bleeding out across the white surface to fill in the morning sky. “I find the light of dawn to accentuate subjects well, but do let me know if you have a different preference.”

Broad strokes brought silver spires and domes to form, that same light illuminating them. The straits that contributed to the city’s individuality were awash with color, sparkling under the light.

“Your compliments are much appreciated, milady,” Valkan replied. Though he was limited in his expression in a draconian form, a faint smile still tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’ve painted locales in my travels and hung them up at home. They evoke fond memories of those visits. Though I use magic here, it is merely a means to an end. An artist still needs to understand the principles of composition.”

As if to illustrate his point, he began working on finer details of his subject: the lady who stood before him. She was the centerpiece, after all, and while he hoped to capture some of Alliria’s splendor, it was not the focus of the piece. It could not draw attention away from Igni. With the background in place, he could work some of the details into his portrait of Igni, namely the lighting. The morning sun illuminated her hair with a soft golden light. A violet silk dress with gold accents flowed out from the tips of his claws like water. Valkan leaned forward and squinted, trying to get the fine details just right, particularly Igni’s eyes. They were everything, after all, the features that could make or break an image. With small details, he only touched the canvas briefly, often little more than a prod, much like how a painter would dot the canvas with a fine brush.

“An excellent location to start one’s mercantile pursuits,” he continued. “How did you get started in this business?”