Mizuko... didn't understand. Dead? But... Oh, certainly she knew of undead, they existed, but to be used a simple laborers that just walked around... it was confusing to her. She had never heard of it before. She was far more familiar with ghosts in any case... and so this sight was truly, truly confusing. Weren't there some undead that ate, anyway? She wasn't familiar with that at all, either... Did the Grey Guild simply hire undead that didn't need to eat? Mizuko was thoroughly confused.

The fish sizzled on her hot plate.

"Don't... some undead need to eat too ~degeso?" she asked, inclining her head to the side. Certainly, she thought the ones that would be safely interacting with the regularly-living would be able to respond, as well...

Sniggit frowned. Did undead need to eat? As far as she knew, they didn't need anything. She couldn't say for sure, since she wasn't part of the maintainance crew, but then again the laborers probably had all of their orphices sewn shut for a reason. "Not laborers. Just moving dead-dead, need nothing. No eyes, no teeth, no brains, no soul. Just laborers. Like... strange word... like gol-em-s? No food for golems."

Sniggit gave the girl in front of her a searching look. Had she understood? Despite having lived in Karstberg her entire life, Sniggit was rubbish at Common (like most ratkin). It just didn't fit her mouth properly. Her nostrils suddenly caught the tantilizing smell of cooking fish, derailing her train of thought. Her belly rumbled audibly.
"Now, how much for fish and rice, fish girl?"

Ysabelle Hajna - Same alley as Tanya

"Oh my, I would have thought you'd be used to such things..." Ysabelle smirked. It was so amusing to see Tanya so flustered. "After all, the Church of Lillies is infamous for being little more than a sapphic coven, is it not?"

Well, it was true that there were rumours about the Church of Reon... After all, a religion whose two primary goddesses were lovers did tend to attract certain types... Not that she really cared either way. All that really mattered was annoying the paladin as much as possible.

...To teach her humility, of course. Not because she just liked messing with people, no, not at all.

"Oh my, but do go on. The only god that I worship is the coin, but there's a slim chance you might be able to convince me to convert. A very, very slim chance, but still..."

Quickly turning to Thane, Ysabelle curtsied and smiled, her fangs visibile for the briefest of moments. Intentionally, of course; whilst she didn't mean him any harm, it was always amusing to see how the commoners reacted to her condition.

"Ah, you misunderstand," she said with a giggle. "I was simply stating a few rumours I had heard, nothing more. We're all friendly people here, aren't we~?"

"... M-my... th-the Church of Reon... h-h-how... how d-dare you say something like that?!" snapped Tanya, taking a step towards the girl, completely furious. Oh, she knew what... foolish, stupid people would say. Those who didn't understand the Light of Reon. But she never, ever wanted to hear such foolishness, such insults! Flustered and infuriated, Tanya could barely find words to articulate her anger at the girl. Who was she, anyway? Who would teach such a young girl to say such... such things about a respected belief?! Trembling, Tanya struggled to calm herself. She... she should not act so angry, not at such a young girl... wait... wait, she was... she... That certain shade of pale skin, those eyes, that... A paladin was trained to recognize undead. And while it seemed that only the girl's tongue was wicked...

"... Hmph, you speak of rumors like you don't have any leveled at even the most civilized of your kind," Tanya said, folding her arms tightly across her chest, "Vampire."

The word was practically spat. Tanya... while she could accept civilized undead as part of society, that didn't stop her from feeling some animosity towards them. While it may not have mattered in most situations... at a time when she was already angry, she couldn't help herself. "At least it explains why you appear as a child, and yet you speak about such things. Does it make you feel more mature in spite of your body? Does acting like you're so concerned with money make you feel like an adult even though you're stuck as a little girl?"

It was... about then that she realized there was a third person nearby. Damn it! Of course, this vampire comes out of no-where and insults her and the Church and there's an audience!

Jace had almost fallen to sleep with the relaxed air around him. It was when he smelled food that he jolted up and grabbed a place of the food. He beamed lightly as he stared at the delicious food before him. He didn’t really recognize the food before him. For the last few months, he had lived on fish, bread and on very rare occasions strawberry jam. Jace loved strawberry jam, and was determined to get some with the money from the ring. But sadly, his plans had been put on hold for now. With a hearty thank you to the cook, Jace started to eat. With an amazed expression, a single tear went down his face. He scoffed up the food as fast as he could, barely stopping to take a breath. He finished off his plate of food and took a massive breath, having almost passed out. He walked to the stall, dropped to his knees and put his head against it.

“You are the best cook ever!” He said with a smile as he rubbed his face on the stall. His attention was brought back when he overheard the conversation with…Sniggit? Yea, Sniggit, the rat-kin. Anyway, he heard them talking about something dead. He glanced up to see a pair of people standing there. He then made the connection that they were undead.

“Aah! They are really undead?!” Jace said as he jumped up. He was a little scared, having encountered a few undead before and almost being taken out by a few of them. He was a little skeptical that they would be allowed in the city, but relaxed a little as she described them like golems. “Ooh, so they are basically slaves” He said as he stood up and walked over to them. With a half weary stance, he waved his hand in front of one of their faces, curious to if they would react.

“This is some pretty cool magic. I didn’t know the dead could be raised like this” He said as he looked down at the little rat-kin. “Surprised they actually let them in the city to be honest, I would be a little scared if they lived in my city” Jace said as he glanced at them. He then remembered he didn’t have a home city. He decided not to mention that though, it would just take away from his point.

Lakan Ting

"My offer is quite simple, young lady! As both a performer of and a patron to my Art, I merely wish to see more of your brilliant acting and perhaps give you the chance to become quite successful as well! You see, there is a certain enviably, almost obscenely wealthy theater-goer who will be in attendance at one of my shows a little time from now. He uses his money foolishly and I've witnessed him to be a vain and tyrannical man to all those unfortunate enough to be in his power." At this Lakan blurred a hand in front of his mask, and it changed from half comedy half tragedy to a full on frown.

"A decent trick by a young and upcoming talent like yourself might very well teach him both a little humility plus the value of his money while being quite profitable for you! I would take the time to humble him myself but there are other things that may need my attention. Besides, you could make much better use of the funds he's parted from, perhaps to the extent of setting you up for quite some time if not for life!" As he said this, the mask was replaced almost invisibly quickly with a smiling, comical mask.

"So, if the offer interests you, come to my show and seek out a man who dares to wear a grossly foppish, towering white wig and do to him as you will! Don't reveal your scheme to me as it is both safer and more entertaining for it to come as a surprise." He swiped his hand across his face again and replaced it with the tragicomic mask, though this time one eye was winking. "Who knows, if I find your performance thrilling enough, you may even gain me as a true patron in the future! In any case, kindly consider my offer!"

Mizuko

"... But you... use the dead to..." Mizuko trailed off. She didn't really understand it. Wasn't there other ways to do this then disturbing the dead...? It was so very... confusing to the girl... but... it wasn't her place to question this at the moment. When she wasn't working, that was when she could try and figure things out about that later. For now, she was a merchant, and a merchant was supposed to sell her wares to whoever approached her. And... well, there was no... smell or anything so the undead seemed clean at least... "... I... see ~degeso..."

Pricing was easier, at least. Balanced for this country's currency(or at least she thought so), it was a simple matter to give out the price. "The meal is one gold and five silver ~degeso."

As the man complimented her cooking joyfully, Mizuko cheerfully turned to face him, thankful for an opportunity to turn her focus away from the undead for a moment. She still wasn't sure how to react to that... "Thank you ~degeso! I learned everything I know about cooking from Okaasan!"

---

Emi

Emi wasn't unused to theatrics. A number of her schemes relied on them, to draw attention away from the fact that she was swindling everyone else involved. So it wasn't the most impressive thing when she saw the switch between masks. There was some trick to it somewhere. The masks were up his sleeves or something, she knew that had to be the case. But his offer... his offer was definitely an intriguing one. Some rich tyrant who was loose with his money and cruel to his employees? Oh, this was definitely something that deeply interested the nem girl. She could earn so much... and get a show on top of it! Oh, it was going to be a great deal of fun.

Emi grinned. How could she pass up an opportunity like this? Not that she wasn't without caution, but... from what she knew of Lakan Ting, he wasn't exactly the type to go telling the Watch all about some con artist siphoning money off of people who could afford it.

"Kindly consider? I believe I've already considered it plenty," said Emi, "I'll be there, Mister Ting. I'll be there for sure."

The show wouldn't be for a while, so that gave Alena at least a little margin for breathing room before the performance took off, not to mention the arranging of a contract with who but her sworn nemesis, that dreadful, corrupt fiend of a businessman Venius, who so viciously usurped the very throne Alena so rightfully had passed down to her, and she was left with nothing but blood money to her name, a name that was very much obscured from the books of this city, but rather she would keep it that way for now, seeing as revealing that she was alive and well would cause quite a stir amongst Karstberg, and according to Matthias, may certainly lead to the woman's imminent demise at the hands of Venius. The Dream District, it was so lovely in the evening light, and this was about the very time this collection of clowns, jesters, and brilliantly talented people of all sorts would spring to life in song and dance, a jolly and jovial parade about the flickering, dim glows of the oil-fed street lanterns, masked and costumed figures bearing the brightest and most wonderful of colors hollering and cavorting about the cobblestone roads, some carrying lit sparklers in their hands and twirling them around, others juggling bright orbs of reds, greens, and blues. It brought a smile to the woman as she tarried unto the district, crossing the stone bridge adorned with ivy and lilacs that stretched over the small canal of emerald green water.

The sounds....they reminded her so of when she first came to the Carail Theatre with her father. She was but a child of maybe six or seven, come to see her mother perform in one of her most dazzling of plays, a classic of Carail's namesake, and her mother, she shined above other actresses, wearing the most elaborate costumes, and exhibiting such amazing talent that Alena dreamed of someday having, then after that night, her family brought her to the street vendors during the after-party, where the young lass had her first taste of strawberry gelato, so sweet and so heavy upon her tongue. Such delight she had during that moment....but now here upon the grounds of her most cherished memories, she was to make the most dubious of deals with the most nefarious of her demons. That little thought robbed a small portion of her joy as her smile slightly curved in a bit of a frown before returning. For the Coven....I must. She kept reminding herself. Ugh! Why did Matthias have to choose this contract for her out of all?

All while she roamed silently down the streets, her face concealed behind the mask Matthias bestowed upon her and a dark, hooded cloak draped over her beautiful red gown, Alena's ears caught the sound of what she concluded as a sort of unscrupulous arrangement, though she couldn't say much since she was here upon the same business. She turned to look to the two plotters. The first was a man, who seemed to Alena to be able to wear many masks at once. Talk about a split personality, but it sure showed the lad had quite the talent for his expertise. The other, well she was...not exactly a child, but she certainly had the stature of such. To Alena, it looked as though the young girl's height could barely reach her upper thigh, let alone her hip. Quietly, the woman stood stoic and eavesdropped upon the scheming duo. Their mention of a wealthy tyrant sparked her interest indeed. She had to wonder, These chums, do they speak of Venius? Hmm...it would seem I'm not the only one after the bastard, but they talk more of stealing his gold than stealing his life.

"Not slaves, human", Sniggit said to the man, "People come sell their flesh to Guild. We pay gold, take body when dead-dead. Their choice. Laborers not let into city. Laborers from city."

She turned to the girl, who still looked confused. Sniggit felt obliged to help her understand; she didn't want people to fear or hate the Guild. The Guild was good for Karstberg, but strange to people because of the whole business with the corpses. She was surprised, however, to find that neither the girl or boy had heard of the Guild before. They had been in business for quite a while, after all.

"Use laborers for filthy or dangerous work. Bad for living to get hurt or sick. Dead-dead can't get hurt or sick. Cheap, safe and clean. Good for city. Here's coin for food."

The ratkin produced two gold and put them in the girls hand. "Keep change" she said and went over to a nearby bench, leading her two laborers with her.

Dalvorin cracked his hammer into the blazing metal, swing after swing. The fly of sparks danced on his beard, glowing in his eyes. A couple of customers examined his walls, examining the tools and blades he had in store. The flames danced before him, the metal resounding again and again. He paused his swing, setting the metal into the blazing flame of the forge. He felt it dance across his hands, his arms. "Excuse me, sir?" Dalvorin nodded. "A moment, if you will," he responded. He smoothed the metal, danced the flame across it. He felt the metal warp into place, felt the flames curve into the metal. He removed the metal from the heat and cracked his hammer down a few final times, each hit resounding like thunder in the shop. "Sir?" Dalvorin crashed down upon the metal, halting his strikes. It was a good blade. He wiped his hand across the face of it, setting it to cool. He didn't believe in cooling metal with water. It worked too quickly, didn't allow for his final marks.

The powerful dwarf turned and stepped up to the stone counter, brushing a couple of tools aside. He should clean some of this up at some point. He peered at the man before him, standing perhaps a head taller than Dalvorin. " What can I do for you?" Dalvorin's voice boomed in the shop. It allowed him to drive off any fools who might want a "free" piece or two. Speaking of which, this man didn't seem to pleasant, who squinted at the dwarf. "I was told that you can craft certain... specialty goods?" Dalvroin scratched his beard, considering for a moment. "If you refer to my Magicsmithing work, than yes, you were informed correctly." He tapped the counter. "I should say that it is a good gold more than any ol' metal you'll get." The man glared at him, seeming to consider something. Dalvorin exhaled heavily. It always ended the same way with these people. Someone got word of it, and figured they wanted it enough to try to take it. Either that or they wised up and either bought it or left. The other customer caught his attention in the corner of his eye. They were about the same height as the man before him, perhaps a little bulkier. The grip they had on the handle was rather purposeful, it seemed, and they had been holding it for much longer than they should. If he was interested, he would have approached the counter by now.

The man in front of him nodded very slightly, so much so that Dalvorin almost missed it. "What are your wares priced at, then?" He reached to a pouch at his side. At the same time, the second man shifted toward the counter. Dalvorin frowned, just in time to receive a face of powder. "Because we'll take what you g-" The man's determined statement was interrupted by a swift uppercut to the jaw. Dalvorin's eyes erupted into flame, burning at the powder that blinded him. Before he recovered, he second man charged forward with a roar, giving Dalvorin the cue to duck down. The blade smashed against the stone counter, with enough force that Dalvorin was sure it was unsellable now. He opened his eyes, the flame flame dissipating and his eyes stinging. Tears left him half blind now, the powder only mostly burnt away. He stood again, his hand engulfed in flame, and gripped the man by the scalp, pulling it swiftly to greet the counter with a crunch.The blade fell to the ground with a clatter as the man fell less ceremoniously. The first man stood in the corner, staring and gripping his jaw, before running out swiftly.

Dalvorin closed his eyes, reigniting the flames, and turned from the counter. He reached the wall he was looking for and pulled the rope hanging there, ringing the bell for the authorities. He had experienced enough stupidity from people like this that he had requested it to save time. They would arrive within a few minutes, requesting a story. It would be the same as always. Some fools thought they would try to steal some metals that he didn't even have prepared. He stopped keeping them in stock after the first few incidents. Dalvorin wiped at his eyes, the flames dancing lightly. His eyes were clear now, and he could see that, indeed, the blade was unusable now. Recalling his previous activity, the turned to the metal he had been smithing, and found it far to cooled now. The event had taken just too long. He sighed and tossed the metal to the side. He needed a moment after that. He crossed to the door, setting the sign to "Back in a moment." He walked into the street, feeling the sun fall on his fire-worn face. The crowed was slightly dispersed around his shop, but many of them were used to it. He stood for a moment and waited for the authorities.

In the midst of all the commotion, Little Zee scurried throughout the crowd to get a good idea of what had just occurred. Brushing through the many citizens of the town he overhears something of a scuffle and continues dashing through the crowd to get a better look. As he approaches the scene, he takes note of a bulky old dwarf outside of a shop seeming somewhat tense. At times like these Zee would usually take advantage and try to make a quick steal- but there didn't seem to be any room for him to make a clean getaway. From the distance he could then hear the approach of the town authorities. "Well this is just great.." he mumbles to himself.

Dalvorin raised his hand against the sun, watching some local guardsmen approach, alert but not worried. He hailed them as they approached, eying the crowd as he did so. He couldn't see the man who had gotten away, though a few people were apart from the crowd to see what the mild commotion was. "Got another one to deal with, eh?" The guards stepped through the crowd, halting just before him and his shop. He nodded, exhaling lightly. "Yeah, you know how it is." He gestured back to his door. "I have one inside for ya. The other got away, who I assume was the one aiming for the grab." He breathed in, finally pulling a pipe from his smithing apron. He brought it to his mouth, snapping a fire to light it. He breathed the smoke deeply, before exhaling it through his nose slowly. The guards gave him a moment; they were used to it. When he nodded, the front guard gestured for the others to enter the shop, so as to apprehend the fallen would-be thief. Once they had entered, he nodded to Dalvorin. The dwarf puffed the pipe for a moment, before beginning the short reciting of the event.

There was a somewhat audible sound of a sharp inhale from the red-haired young man after he had caught glimpse of a pair of teeth a little too sharp and a little too long. Though that slight gasp might have been unnoticed among the breathing his physically worked body was doing. Sure, he had an encounter with a vampire at least once before on one of his delivery runs, but there was always something about the concept of an undead, blood-sucking creature of the night just there, minding their own business and not attempting to rip out anyone's jugular or anything. To be honest, Thane didn't know if he'd feel better if she had tried to attack him instead of curtsying politely and making small talk.

"R...Right..." Thane said half-heartedly, unintentionally stumbling over his own words, before giving a good roll of the eyes to silently express his distaste after having processed that the 'young lady' could very well be older than he himself. Either way it was quite apparent that the courier didn't at all believe the vampiric lady's claim of just stating the rumor or, if he did, still thought that the disgruntled paladin deserved an apology at the very least. While he wasn't really a religious kind of person, he knew he'd be pretty mad if someone said something like that about his religion of choice. Especially if he were to dedicate his life to it like the paladin trying to convert people on her patch of street. "Still think you should apologize," he commented off to the side.

"Why don't we all just calm down and settle our differences over some food or something," the courier sarcastically joked to himself, unaware that his volume was quite a bit louder than he had intended for it to be.

That... well... that... sort of made sense to Mizuko, she supposed. But something about it seemed off... she had never before heard of such practices before coming to this land. This was the first time she had encountered such things even after arriving in the city. She simply hadn't previously noticed these... laborers. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. Her parents had tried to make sure she wouldn't feel too... distraught by anything unusual she saw in Almara. It was a strange and unfamiliar land and they wanted to make sure she was prepared for it.

This... they didn't seem to know about this, though, and Mizuko wasn't sure what to say.

However, at least the rat-person was very generous. Mizuko happily took the gold, her smile returning. "Thank you, valued customer!"

She quickly tucked it into the coin chest beneath her desk.

Lakan

"Excellent. Now, I have business to take care of, mysterious things to do, rumors to become the basis for, that sort of thing. Feel free to use the extra ticket to bring a friend or go to a free show, or even sell them off for some extra money if you like"

With that Lakan walked off into the crowded street, somehow finding another ragged cloak and transforming just as the bustle of the crowd blocked him from view so that it would hopefully seem he had vanished into the bustling throng of the city itself. He did have a reputation to maintain, even if he was revealing a good deal about himself to the con artist girl.

Now all that of that was settled it was time to hopefully find something interesting to do.

Emi watched as the man vanished into the crowds. Well, this was an opportunity the nem girl was not going to waste, not at all. Really, her chief concern was planning her con. How, exactly to handle all this... how best to secure this man's money for herself. Not all of it. She wasn't the type to swindle someone out of everything they had. She was. however, the type to take from rich people who could afford it. The tiny girl stretched her limbs and thought it over for a few moments. She'd have to quickly construct an identity, too... and perhaps buy a dress for the event. Smiling to herself, she turned on her heel, ready to head off to a nice shop... and paused.

... That... was certainly an odd sight. A woman in a cloak and mask, hanging around nearby? How... strange. Emi inclined her head slightly to the side. Well, she was certain nothing strange had been heard... and if it had, well, Emi was certainly capable of deflecting suspicion from herself or obscuring her identity. It was how she lived, after all. No, her thoughts mostly drifted to what kind of dress she should by. She had plenty to afford a decent dress, though nothing too expensive, so she had a lot of choice.

She began to head on, her thoughts wandering.

"Ah, where to buy a dress..."

Emi did do her best to be wary even as she headed onward, though.

This little girl, she certainly garnered the woman's attention with this most conspicuous of plans made collaborating with that mysterious actor fellow, who seemed to have disappeared from Alena's scrutinizing gaze in a matter of seconds. Still she had to wonder, were those two speaking of Venius being the brunt of their mischievous plot to rob blind a wealthy but tyrannical patron of the Theatre Carail? Alena believed it so, but then again the assassin may have been jumping to conclusions, to early to tell and too vague the amount of information she was able to filter from her eavesdropping of these two. If it were so, then perhaps Alena could seek the aid of this young lass for her own nefarious plottings against the damned wretched fiend who begrudgingly was her uncle. No! Again why would she consider such loathsome curs as he to be family?

Quietly, she sauntered behind the little one, stalking about the streets as a phantom clad in her shadowed cloak and her rather spooky but hauntingly beautiful mask. Certain was the master assassin that this girl would not be able to deduce someone was following her, for her footsteps made not a sound. Perchance she can get me close to Venius, close enough for me to stab him in the gullet when he least expects it.

Emi continued onwards. She headed for a crowd. If there was any unusual attention, they'd have to make a scene to do anything if she went into a crowd... and the district was not exactly empty at any time during the day. What she was looking for now, of course, was a dress shop. Oh, where to go... not everywhere carried dresses tailored for nem, it was true. They had to be sized for girls who were as large as human children but tailored for girls with bodies that were... well, not the bodies of children. It was really a matter of locating a tailor who had experience with different races, and in Karstberg that was not too big of a problem. It was more finding the shops that carried them...

Emi paused outside of the shop. Ah, perfect! Lorelei's! It was run by a very passionate young woman who sold only the finest of dresses... the building itself was elegant, fine glass windows, a cheerful sign marked with a depiction of Lorelei herself, white pillars holding up an overhang at the front of the shop... glass displays showing off the most expensive dresses... it made Emi want to be as successful as possible conning this rich tyrant. She wanted to buy one of them. The wonderful frills, the bow adorning the waist... half the fun of conning was the reward! The other half was... conning some rich idiot.

Without further hesitation Emi hurried into the shop.

As Dalvorin finished his tale, he glanced about the crowd one more, noting an individual who seemed to be walking quite to fast, gripping their jaw. He pointed him out for the guardsmen. "That's likely your man there, one with a newly crook'd jaw." The guard followed Dalvorin's gesture, narrowing his eyes when he saw the fleeing man. "I'll mind him in a moment; shouldn't be hard to find with a jaw like that." He eyed Dalvorin for a moment on saying that, but made no further remarks, turning to the shop to assist his comrades. Dalvorin puffed his pipe for a moment, before waving the crowd away and setting out down the street. It was a good day, and even he didn't want to waste it sitting by the furnace.

After walking along, Dalvorin noticed a small group, and an odd one; that is, until he noticed the paladin. He sighed. They always seemed to start - or finish - the oddest things. He sighed. He should likely step in, for one reason or another. He changed his path and moved toward small group. As he did, he tried to see what has already occurred. The paladin was very upset already, as well as looking angry. Another passerby seemed to also be attempting to intervene... no, a courier of some sort? He spoke as Dalvorin approached, sounding worried. Noticing that, he saw that the focus of both the courier and paladin were on the third individual, though he was behind them currently. He stepped up directly behind the third individual, eying the other two, before asking quite simply, "What seems to be the problem?" He gave a curt nod to the paladin and added, "Miss."