Marcus looked around him, taking in the sight of the bustling streets with people hurrying from one place to another. There were some chickens scurrying on the street, looking for bits of food dropped by the passerby. Merchants were loudly recommending their own wares, it seemed like the main road functioned as a market place too. Or at least now, with all the travelers in the city and the coronation coming up. All kinds of strange folk were in the city, Marcus recognized some men from Oragos dressed in their traditional robes. The smell of spices from far lands filled the air and people were dressed in brighter colors than Marcus had seen in years. He also took notice of a man seemingly in his late twenties, clad in armor who looked around, taking in the scenery as though he was a ten year old visiting a city for the first time. It had been about six years ago since Marcus had last been in Amaryth and he couldn't really remember what the city had been like back then. He had really just been a boy and it had been the first Othean city he had laid his eyes upon. Besides that, he had only stayed for a few days before he had continued his journey

But, priorities firsts. Marcus reminded himself that he wasn't here for sightseeing. He had to go check upon those rumors. Smalltalk wasn't really Marcus' forte, but he decided to talk to one of the merchants. Who else would be more willing to talk to a stranger about strangers? Well... an innkeeper most likely. But since it was just around noon, Marcus decided that he'd try and find one of those later. As he continued walking down the main road, passing through the crowd like a fish going upstream, he smelled a delicious smell. A loud rumbling sound reminded Marcus that he hadn't eaten since this morning. When Lance and his family had separated from him to find some relatives of theirs in the city, they had given him some more provisions. But Marcus would rather save those for later.

Following the delicious smell, Marcus came to a stand surrounded by a small crowd where a fat mustached man was selling some sort of fruit tarts. After haggling about the price for some time, Marcus slid the cloth covering his face down and took a bite. Utterly... delicious. This tart was no doubt the best thing he had eaten in months, no, years! The fat pastry man's wide smile grew even wider when Marcus told him just that. "Well young lady, the secret! The secret is in the dough! I have some especially secret ingredients that I use for that, and oooh the baking is such a delicate process, it's as though I create a little work of art every time again. And then I haven't even started about the fruit, I can ensure you ladies and gentleman that only the best..." The man didn't seem able to stop talking but the first thing he had said was what had shocked Marcus the most. Lady? "Ehm... sorry to interrupt, but I'm actually a man..." He said, unconsciously letting his voice drop a bit. "Oh.. Well forgive me kind sir, I just thought...with such a lovely face.." The mustached man seemed sincerely sorry about his mistake. Marcus quickly covered the bottom half of his face with cloth. He couldn't really blame the man, after all at the age of 22 he still wasn't able to grow facial hair and he had been told before that he had a girl's face. Thus he wove the man's apologies away and mumbled something like 'Tís fine. The smile on the merchant's face reappeared as quickly as it has faded. "Well no doubt the ladies find you quite attractive still, right young lady there. I saw you looking, did I not. Oh don't be shy! Isn't she lovely ladies and gentlemen? How about you buy this beautiful young lady a tart then, my fine gentleman. For the sake of young love!" A young girl glanced his way and quickly turned her head, giggling with her friends. At that point, Marcus had had about enough and turned around, trying to get to another stall as fast as possible without running.

The nearest stall that looked interesting was owned by a huge man, covered in tattoos, selling wood. Marcus quickly recognized oak, birch and something that looked like fir. There was one particular trunk that caught Marcus' attention, very small compared to the rest the man was selling and it wasn't like any wood Marcus had ever seen before. And that meant a lot, coming from someone who had spent about a third of his life the woods. "Sir, what kind of wood that is? I've never seen anything quite like it." He said, pointing at the log of Mystra.