[ In the back of his mind, he'd known when he set himself on this course that it was a fool's errand—he has no idea of the manner of his father's death, or whether he survived the calamitous final clash of the three dragons some hundred years ago now, and tracking the location of something as small and inconspicuous as a ring after this much time feels almost impossible.
He'd inquired with the records keepers in Thalassa during his brief visit there, but they'd yielded little information on what became of Regis Lucis Caelum after the war. He'd inquired with those who worked with the salvagers after in the city, and they had pointed him to a warehouse in Atromitos, where a near-ancient elven salvager who'd been a child at the time told him about his mother, who'd sold a handful of magical relics recovered from the battlefield to a collector in Krimnos.
As it turns out, said collector had passed some time ago, and his possessions had been auctioned by his children, or worse, stolen, dispersed like chaff in the wind into the city's bustling economy. Which brings him here, to the chaos of the markets, the murmur of the crowd and the shouting of hawkers leaning over their counters to try and entice him to buy some dusty book or copper trinket they swear he needs.
He's not sure what it is about him that makes them so unwilling to talk about the city's more underground markets, but they'll give him an appraising glance at beast before waving a hand and shooing him off down the street, laughing at him.
Which is how, after a few hours of fruitless inquiries in the sweltering heat, he bumps into a familiar face wandering the streets, same as him. He blinks, taking a moment to confirm he's not just imagining things, and then huffs quietly, almost laughing, sidling up beside Alucard and nudging him with an elbow. ]
Didn't expect to run into you here. You don't strike me as the type of person who likes to go shopping for fun.
no subject
He'd inquired with the records keepers in Thalassa during his brief visit there, but they'd yielded little information on what became of Regis Lucis Caelum after the war. He'd inquired with those who worked with the salvagers after in the city, and they had pointed him to a warehouse in Atromitos, where a near-ancient elven salvager who'd been a child at the time told him about his mother, who'd sold a handful of magical relics recovered from the battlefield to a collector in Krimnos.
As it turns out, said collector had passed some time ago, and his possessions had been auctioned by his children, or worse, stolen, dispersed like chaff in the wind into the city's bustling economy. Which brings him here, to the chaos of the markets, the murmur of the crowd and the shouting of hawkers leaning over their counters to try and entice him to buy some dusty book or copper trinket they swear he needs.
He's not sure what it is about him that makes them so unwilling to talk about the city's more underground markets, but they'll give him an appraising glance at beast before waving a hand and shooing him off down the street, laughing at him.
Which is how, after a few hours of fruitless inquiries in the sweltering heat, he bumps into a familiar face wandering the streets, same as him. He blinks, taking a moment to confirm he's not just imagining things, and then huffs quietly, almost laughing, sidling up beside Alucard and nudging him with an elbow. ]
Didn't expect to run into you here. You don't strike me as the type of person who likes to go shopping for fun.