The Penniless Prince (closed)

[Helo Tarran]

The Elf who had gotten off the wagon with him had pursed his lips and simply said: "Filthy", when they had arrived at the famed City of Three Beacons: Fellsgard.

Helo, however, saw opportunity. There were so many people! Yes, it wasn't as scenic; there were no mighty trees, Fae flitting here and there, and there was the absent of the Ajteire fireflies (something he didn't realise he would miss as much as he did). But this was the place he knew he need to be. Ixaziel had been with him when he had studied the maps back home, and he was sure that this was exactly where he should be.

Now all he needed was coin.

Shouldering his bag, Helo moved through the crowd. The way people shoved and gave little way to others took some getting used to, but it soon became a game. He was quite lithe, and he soon found it fun to flit this way and that as the folks of the city made their unerring way about their business.

It was because of this air of self-importance and determination to get where they were going, that Helo saw more than one chance to 'lift' a wallet or two, but he held back for the moment. The timing and opportunity had to be perfect. He didn't want to spend his first (or last) day in prison now he had finally reached Fellsgard.

A while later, Helo took a bite out of the seeded bread he had fished from his pack, still exploring the city. He had enough food for another two days, and could always hunt when he changed forms. But a roof over his head for the night would be a nice start.

As he pushed past an elderly woman, to whom he dipped his head with a "Sorry, ma'am", he spied a potential target.

Standing talking to a vendor was a woman not far from his own age. She was a pretty thing, wearing well made clothes and, most enticingly, several tools at her belt which he believed he could easily lift. He felt a pang of guilt at taking from a pretty young woman, but by the looks of her clothes, he surmised that she might be help him - even if she did so unwillingly.

Taking a step forward, he moved to her side and looked over the wares of the merchant, he gave her a glance and smiled (he was handsome, and he made sure to use it (his mother said his smile was the only thing that had saved him from living in a cage)). With a nod of his head, touched his brow. "Good day, miss. And a fine one it is, now that Ixaziel has led my eyes to you! How goes your day?"

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Belia was in the market bazaar looking for scrap pieces to train her mending. She’d come straight from the morning chores at the leatherworker’s, still even carrying her borrowed tools, because she was due to fix dinner before the sun touched the lighthouse. The Altev’s were coming over and it wouldn’t do for them to find an empty table and her working away at a nightgown. Besides, she couldn’t imagine letting Thomas see her undergarments after she’d just turned him away the week prior. Honestly, the boy seemed to think just because their families were close that he had a right to her.

She’d been about to start talking to the clothes peddler when a rather dashing man with a lithe figure sidled up beside her. He then spoke words dripping with compliment. The suddenness of his appearance, his words, and his figure all set Belia on edge. He was likely some kind of popinjay from the north side looking to slum with the common folk, or a thief with a handsome face.

“It is a pleasant day, did you need something, or are you in the habit of simply lavishing every woman with such words?” she asked him back, a faint tightness to her voice as her hand drifted down to cover her tools. If he took one of those she’d be out of coin for weeks and she rather start a scene than let someone ruin her hard work these past months.

[Helo Tarran]

Helo's eyes flicked to her hand, but he ensured his smile stayed on his face. He put his hand to his chest, as if struck. "Dear lady, you wound me!" He said, shaking his head. "Of all the dour flowers I have past, how could I pass such a beauty and not stop and remark upon you radiance?"

He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other, his hand flicking out to snatch a pair of gloves - nothing that would earn him much, if anything, but needs must.

He bowed his head. "The name's Helo; I just arrived from Ajteire and admit to being completely lost. Perhaps you could tell me where I might find a place to rest my weary head? Or perhaps just a walk, if you're not too busy?"

She was too guarded; stealing from her wasn't going to work - unless he snatched and grabbed, but that felt too crass, even for a thief.

He took a moment to glance over the stall. He gave the vendor a grin. "Nice stuff." he said, offhandedly, before turning his smile to the woman.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Belia felt a twinge of guilt after the man’s second compliment was followed by him revealing he was just arrived. She remembered her own family’s arrival in the city from their small distant village. They’d come off the wagon covered in dust like he was and with hardly any money to buy a shared bunk by the dockside. She considered for a moment, deciding she could do a good deed with the time she had.

“I could show you some good places to get your feet I suppose. I’m Belia, leatherworker apprentice,” she said lifting one of her hanging tools. “Do you have a place to stay?” she asked, giving Helo a kind smile that elevated her rather regular features to match her well made dress. She turned slightly away from the vendor, the cloth scraps forgotten as her lifelong drive to help took over.

For his part the clothier cleared his throat and adopted a scowl. “If you’re not buying, clear my shop. You’re taking my space that good paying folk need,” he said before crossing his arms and leveling his glare at them each in turn.

Belia blushed and nodded her head in apology before moving away from the market stall with a mumbled apology. “Come along then, let’s show you to the sharehouse and you can tell me what you’re good at. We’ll get you something so you don’t need to fight the rats for an alleyway.”

[Helo Tarran]

Helo bobbed his head to the vendor, and turned to walk in step with his new companion. "It's a singular pleasure to meet you, Belia." He said, as he followed along in the crowd.

"As to your question; no, as of yet I am without a place to rest my weary bones. I arrived here with some vague details about an Elven tavern, and little else." He explained. The streets were a marvel to him; so many people! Mostly Human too. It had a ... grey quality, so different from the almost ethereal feel of Ajteire.

Helo liked it.

"What am I good at?" He mused aloud. Turning to give her a quick grin. "Picking the prettiest guides?" He shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure what I could be good at. In Ajteire I cooked well enough, and my studies always went well. Though I'm not sure how far either will take me here."

He needed to make connections; he had heard all sorts of stories of shady underground organisations which regulated the thieves and such of the city; he didn't want to step on any toes. "You said thieves were common?" He mentioned conversationally. "Is it true there are groups who rule the city from it's deepest depths? And the king is a fat old cat covered in jewels?" He smiled along with her, but in his own way, he was gathering what information he could.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Belia shook her head slightly and blushed faintly as Helo continued to shower her with compliments. Despite this she remained mindful of what he’d said. “I’m not sure I know of an Elf tavern honestly. Though I imagine it’s somewhere in the East District given the troubles they seem to have in the city,” she said screwing up her mouth in thought.

“As for thieves, of course. Just like anywhere I imagine. Though I don’t think I’ve heard of any jeweled gang lords since I avoided my chores as a child. There’s the vipers that come round sometimes, but I don’t talk to them. Master Thames doesn’t appreciate the looks they gave his last apprentice,” she said as she weaved through groups of people before breaking out into a slightly less crowded street. “Oh, maybe the stories about the blackbird, he shows up from time to time, sweeps a girl off her feet or snags a pile of stolen goods they say.” Belia gave Helo an amused grin. “All tales of drunken sailors who spent their coin I imagine.”

“Wait, you’re a good cook? Can I bribe you with a meal if I have the ingredients?” she said suddenly, an evil grin forming on her lips. She could do the right thing and offer a meal, and maybe get Thomas to back off with a handsome face making the meal.

[Helo Tarran]

Where there's a tale, there's usually something warranting a grain of truth, but who knows?" He gave her a smile and a shrug. "I'm just a weary traveller and at the mercy of your - well, ... mercy!" he gave a small laugh. "I admit to finding the people of Fellsgard friendlier than I had been led to believe. But maybe that's just you."

When the opportunity to cook, he could hardly pass up the chance. The intent had been to get to this Elven Tavern he had been told to go straight to, but Helo had never been one for the straightest path. "My lady!" He said, with some mock surprise. "If you asked me for the moon I doubt I would sleep until it was in your sweet hands! But cooking I think I can manage! Lead the way and my other commitments can wait their turn. Who am I to turn down the request of a woman of such substance and wit?"

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Belia gave herself a tiny shake as her mouth twitched into a faint frown. Helo continued with his honeyed words and they were beginning to lose their luster as he spoke more of them with every chance. “I’ve been told I had more kindness than care on occasion, but I’d rather help someone who needs it than see another family like my own forced to steal just to eat until we could find work proper,” she said as another bright smile filled her features.

When Helo practically recited a poem at the chance to cook her reserve broke and she let out a hearty laugh before her hand could cover her mouth. “I’m beginning to think sir, that you’re professions of beauty and wanting are not unique to me,” Belia said giving him a shake of her head. “But yes, there’s dinner to be made and we’ll have plenty. Plus with this I can work on my cloth before the Altev’s arrive.”

With that she headed down several side streets and into the edges of the South District before finally stepping out into a small dirt and cobble yard with homes on all sides. There was a small gnarled tree, it’s leaves a pale yellow in the grip of autumn, surrounded by a number of young children who were in the middle of a game of tag. One of them, a pale boy ran to hide behind the much taller adults. “Now James, I don’t have time to play and it’s not fair to harasses others either,” Belia said to the boy before giving him a gentle pat and continuing to a faded heavy wooden door.

“Come on in, let me put these away and I’ll show you what we have to work with,” she said to Helo as she moved into her family’s modest home. The place was cozy but not cramped, with well carved but undecorated heavy wooden furniture and a well stocked kitchen settled around a crackling hearth. Belia moved over to the hearth, and grabbed a stone mug from a small shelf before filling it with an aromatic tea and setting it on the kitchen table. “Sit, I’ll be back in just a moment,” she said before moving deeper into the home.

There were several moments of clinking and shuffling of fabric before she returned without her tools and in less heavy clothes. “So, we’ve got a good mix of vegetables, a pair of large wheat loaves, and some fresh fish from this morning. There’ll be seven counting you, but it doesn't need to be done when they arrive, so do what you think is best,” she said offering him another smile. “All the tools and cookware are right where you can see them, but if you need something I’ll be right here,” she added before settling in at the table and laying out a small pile of fabric scraps.

[Helo Tarran]

Helo stripped down to his shirt, letting his things fall where they may as he moved to the cooking pot. So far, his adventure had not panned out how it should, but there was comfort here. And he liked Belia.

As she pointed out, he took stock of what he had to work with, and son got down to it. He hummed a an Ajteire song as he placed things near the fire or in the pot. When he was satisfied with what he had created; roasted vegetables and fish grilled as best he could without spice, he stood back and clapped his hands. "What I can do, I have done, and may it serve you and yours as best it can." He said, almost musically.

He gave Belia a broad, genuine smile. He had enjoyed this; it reminded him of home. "I hope pleasure can be taken in what I have prepared, would you like the first taste, my lady?" He said with a dip of his head to Belia.

[The Unreliable Narrator]

Belia watched Helo work with an interested eye, her mind only barely paying attention to the cloth she was stitching together. This earned her more than a fair share of pricked fingers and work that would need to be redone but she found she couldn’t help herself. He was certainly handsome, and his motions as his went about cooking a sumptuous smelling meal were certainly pleasant to watch. There was just something about a man with skill putting it to use that had Belia thinking of ways to convince Helo to stay around.

There were plenty of things that could be done around the house, with no son the family had often lamented Belia’s lack of pursuers. She’d yet to tell her parents that was because a tradeswoman, one unwilling to dally her time when there was work to be done, seemed to drive away the interested men as if she were stricken with plague. When he clapped she half jumped, realizing she’d been staring at the back of his head unmoving for several long moments.

The kitchen smelled wonderful, the scent of roasted vegetables providing an earthy undertone to the tang of freshly fried fish. Belia covered her mouth when she realized with horror that she was drooling. “It smells lovely, what did you do to get the vegetables so fragrant?” she asked as she placed her clothwork on the table and moved over to look at the array of foods. “What am I to be tasting then? I won’t hold back on my opinions,” she added with a smile after a moment of simply enjoying the smells and sights of the food.

There was still a good hour of so before her father and mother returned home, she'd need to make certain they didn't walk in and assume anything untoward. She had enough trouble with the increase in orders at the shop without her parents badgering her about men tonight as well.