The afternoon sun burned gloriously in the cloudless azure sky. The air was warm- a bit weighted by the sea's humidity, but still easy to move about in, which was just what a cluster of children near the Standing Tree monk Li Hama was doing. One, bedecked in a long white linen cloth and armed with a battered sunflower, was chasing the others down the narrow Westgate alley ways, all laughing, shouting, teasing and screaming at each other. Adults who unshuttered their windows or peeked out of doors either egged on the hunt or tried to compel the children to stop for a moment to rest and sip a bit of wine-splashed water.
Li Hama walked slowly along, only partially because of the struggle to remember street names and directions in a land foreign to him. He was busy allowing himself the small delight of watching the children's play when an armored figure interrupted his focus.
"Might you need some direction?" the person asked with an unusually buoyant tone.
Li Hama turned to see someone completely covered in boiled leather armor, and wasn't sure whether he was addressing some kind of militia figure or an actual Westgate city guard.
"I hope I'm on the right path, ser- I'm headed for East Market Street," he confessed easily.
"Ah, yes; you're going the right way," the armored man nodded. "Just a few more steps the way you're going, and you'll have it. Any particular place on it?"
"The tavern with the sash over the entry, if you're familiar with it," Li Hama admitted with an uncomfortable smirk.
"Oh, the Blue Banner? Of course I'm familiar!" the armored figure laughed. "Always out of cider before I can get down there after my hours are up, but otherwise a nice place. Great food, better entertainment, and I'm not talking about the bard, either."
Li Hama gave a short, but genuine chuckle. Behind him, the sudden swell of laughter and shouting indicated that the children had begun to chase each other again. He looked over his shoulder down the street, but had no real hope of seeing them.
"Gotta envy their energy," the man chuckled. "Wish you could bottle it, don't you?"
Something about the way the man spoke began to light a flare of concern within Li Hama, but he kept his face plain. "Is today some sort of feast day, ser?" he asked as he returned his attention to the person in front of him. "Those children ran out of a temple, I believe- but I'm not familiar with the gods of this land."
The person gave a huff. "It's a Netherese feast day, sure, but none of ours. It's a shame that the families in this neighborhood have let their children pick up the bad habit of conflating Lathander with Amaunator. But a few people around here are real and true worshippers of the latter, and I suppose it's just about impossible to keep kids from wanting to do as their friends do, isn't it?"
"Especially when it looks and sounds like such fun," Li Hama noted. "When they are older, they will hopefully hold more closely to the teachings of their own homes."
"That possibility certainly exists." The armored person turned their back on Li Hama without ceremony. "I'll let you be on your way. Take care; there've been some unfriendly incidents around the area of the Blue Banner these past few weeks."
"I'll be careful; thank you," Li Hama replied with a slight bow.
The person had already begun walking back in the direction from which they must have come. Li Hama, realizing that names hadn't been exchanged, hoped that he wouldn't have to call for help, or that someone else was near enough by to lend aid if it became necessary. While he felt confident about his ability to defend himself against one or two cutpurses, he wasn't sure how many combatants constituted an "unfriendly incident".
Accompanied by these thoughts, Li Hama breathed deeply as he turned out onto East Market Street. The smell of the food- which was indeed good- greeted his nose and prompted him to close his eyes for just a moment, remembering home. As he did, a voice called out to him in a happy tone that somehow still bordered on menacing.
"Khuṇ phr̂xm thī̀ ca tạkbātr læ̂w h̄rụ̄x yạng?"
Li Hama opened his eyes and turned around, only to see the person with boiled leather armor again, this time with a half dozen friends. The helmet was off and under one arm, revealing a shaved head, warm brown eyes, lightly browned skin, and a very self-sastisfied smirk on the firm lips. The compatriots to the man in leather armor fanned out behind him, and all of them looked like people who had seen some real fights. Li Hama was sure that his own was the only nose in the gathering that hadn't been badly broken, and managed to find some strange mirth in that thought.
"I can share whatever food or drink is offered to me by those who have mercy on me," the monk began, trying to address the leader just as calmly as he had before.
"It's fitting that you'd stick to speaking Common," the person scoffed. "You, a so-called brother, stand poised to prey upon estranged family members who already have so little. Why don't you go beg on the other side of the bridge, where people can afford to throw their coin into the midden?"
Li Hama found righteous indignation beginning to burn within himself just when he needed it least. With a deep breath, he tried to speak comfortingly. "Now, brothers, I was sent for a particular purpose, and don't intend to hurt anyone in its carrying out. Please reconsider any violent actions, as they will have negative effects on your souls and fortunes."
"I make my fortune- I had to, just like everyone else here. Look at yourself. You can say you don't mean harm all you want, but you are harming the people here, with your mere presence. Do you see anyone dressed as you are dressed, going about doing as you're doing? No. Just your being here, acting and speaking as you are, is a reminder of the old ways- the behaviours and customs that were of no use to anyone even back in Kara-Tur. Or did you forget how and why the Tuigan ripped us out of that land, which forced us into slums like this?"
A very loud and incomprehensible song suddenly rolled out of one of the side alley ways behind the person in boiled leather. Anaeriel, swinging and swaying into view just moments after he made himself heard, tumbled sideways and landed heavily on the threatening person who was closest to that alley. Apparently jostled by the fall, the Elf sucked in two deep hiccups and belched out an air so foul that Li Hama cringed, even from a bit more than ten feet away. The person pinned beneath Anaeriel had no chance against the noxious fumes, and immediately began heaving.
"Oooh, ooh, oooh, my deep-hic! Mmmnn, sorry- my deepest apologies," Anaeriel just barely pronounced, getting up with a speed and dexterity that made Li Hama suspicious. "Tha- that is- hic!- phew, quite a stink- but, this, this here, is my Friend Tree! You've found him; that's sooooo good. So good, so good, so good. Hic! Now, I wonder how long- lookit, lookit, I'm serious- how long would it take us, my Friend Tree and I- hic!- to have you all on your backs? It's an excellent position for rutting, the back. Friend Tree mustn't rut, so I do. I reeeally do. Enough for both- hic!- both of us. That's balance, right?"
Anaeriel leaned on another group member and laughed conspiratorially, as though the idea that his promiscuity made Li Hama's vow of celibacy possible were some kind of inside joke. In the blink of an eye, the casual arm draped over the group member became a choke hold, and the Elf turned himself in some indescribable way that did indeed put the group member squarely on his back.
Anaeriel opened his arms grandly as though he'd performed a magic trick, then unceremoniously plopped himself down onto the man's crotch and thighs. Absolutely everyone else gave a shudder as the man beneath Anaeriel groaned in pain. "Aww, you're no fun; you weren't hard at all! Now, who's- hic!- next? Ooh, hang on, I gotta- oof! Means I gotta get off 'im, du'nit?"
As soon as the Elf had lifted himself off of the man whose crotch he'd just slapped himself down onto, the leader in the boiled armor nodded to the rest of his gathering, whose looks had changed.
"We'll be off, Friend Elf, but you're keeping dangerous company," the leader growled, clearly annoyed. "He owes us-"
"Never you worry; I'll be good for whatever you're owed," Anaeriel grinned widely.
Anaeriel's remark was met with such concerned grumbling and shuffling from the ne'er-do-wells that Li Hama was forced to understand it for what it was- a threat.
With masks of barely contained fear and disgust, the four untouched crew members hoisted their two stricken friends, and all of them- accompanied by the occasional sound of retching- nearly fled down another side alley.
Anaeriel hocked and spat, thumped his chest a few times, and let out another resounding burp. "Ah, 'not yet' indeed, Pap," he admitted, shaking his head. "But if you'd been-" he stopped himself and shrugged.
Li Hama found himself nearly afraid to get any closer to Anaeriel, but resolutely closed the distance through force of will. The faintest whisper of the bad odour arose only from where Anaeriel spat, to his great relief. "I'm not sure what you did, but thank you."
Anaeriel turned a bemused look down to the Shou that stood nearly an entire foot shorter than he. "You know exactly what I did; you watched me do it. You've come back to me, so you must be thirsty."
"How could I be after any of that?" Li Hama couldn't help but laugh. "But, Hai Shui certainly sent me back to you to 'drink mud'. I... believe something- about my message, or perhaps even about me- must have displeased him."
The mirth common to Anaeriel's face fled it at once, leaving the well-trained Dalelands scout he once was. Just as in times past his eyes could, from twenty paces, identify and understand how to unmake a bird trap, they bored into Li Hama as though the knots of personality within him that only deep introspection might begin to untie were plainly visible. Li Hama was just about to comment on this miraculous focus when Anaeriel turned his head and puffed a silent burp into his fist.
"Are you-"
"I'm always thirsty," Anaeriel said in answer to the question that Li Hama had absolutely no intention of asking. He smiled gently, turned away, and began slowly walking toward the tavern without any trouble at all. "Let's get a pair of watery Ny's Wilds into you, and we'll talk twigs in the morning."
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