53rd of Ymiden, Arc 717
This was the place. Kura had informed him as much, though he'd not been able to find it easily. Scalvoris Town was perhaps the only place on the island of any structural complexity, with a much larger density of people strewn about through the capital. There were homes and places of industry everywhere, running on for some time, not dissimilar from Andaris. Most notably was of course Scalvoris' campus of the University of Viden, but he found that attempting to use it as a point of reference in his directional search had only let him astray. Inevitably, he ended up at the ass end of nowhere, with several shanty looking individuals staring him down.
One of them, a woman of long and frizzy ginger hair and clothes that barely seemed to want to stay on, called out to him in an accent that made the mage visibly cringe.
"Ey, ya fancy lookin' nutta," she called out to him, parting her lips to reveal rotted silver-crusted teeth. "Ye come here fer me savices, man? Gots ta get 'ome to me kids, soon, but fer double price I'll treat ya," she whispered, raising her head and - by her standards - seductively placing one leg before the other. Alistair, avoiding eye contact, shook his head.
"No, that will be quite alright," he replied. "I'm looking for Cally's. Do you know where it is?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Ey mate, ya think I'mma tell ya shit fer free?" she asked, turning to one of her male friends and laughing. "Feck off, ya foreign shite," the woman cursed. Alistair rolled his eyes and turned around, yet again lost in the search. As he did, however, he noted something standing beside what appeared to be one of the city guard. A map! Oh, gods. He'd been looking for one of these!
A smile consuming his face, the mage stepped over, scanning the parchment with his eyes before nodding once and setting off to find Cally's, not all too far from here.
The restaurant - though it was more complex than just that - seemed to be in a middle ground between the bourgeois and proletarian, in an area likely on the edge of each respective community. It did not surprise him that Faith would not totally surrender her roots as a common woman, if not lower than that, a slave. She did not fear, perhaps, the thought of sharing land with those many might consider fearsome and undesirable.
Alistair stepped forward, and through the doors of the restaurant. It was a fine enough establishment. While it did not yet resemble the majesty of a posh eatery in Sabaissant, the mage knew that Faith cooked better than practically any of the fanciful men and women of his home city. She'd get there, before long. He could already see that the place was packed, only lucky that a small table in the far corner of the restaurant seemed currently vacant.
Stepping towards a woman who appeared to act as a hostess, Alistair put on a charming smile, and she did in turn... and then some. Her eyes actually appeared quite flirty, but the mage ignored whatever gleaming look she was trying to offer him.
"What can I get for you, sir?" She asked, her voice an attempt at coy. Alistair sighed. Did everyone have to make advances on everyone else, outside of Rynmere? If there was one thing he missed about numbering among the nobility, it was the respect and dignity that others offered him.
"I'd like to be seated," he stated, "just me. Your owner, uh - Faith Nardovino. Is there any way I could request her as my server?" the noble questioned.
Trudi quirked her lips, and looked towards him once. "I'll be right back with that answer," she told him. "Until then, be seated in the corner. I should be back with you shortly."
Alistair nodded, walking towards the table in the corner of the room, freshly cleaned off by a young man with long brown hair. Smiling quaintly at the younger gentleman, the tall nobleman took a seat, staring at the menu before him.
"Ruby, Onyx, Diamond..." he whispered, flipping through the well-crafted pages.
This was the place. Kura had informed him as much, though he'd not been able to find it easily. Scalvoris Town was perhaps the only place on the island of any structural complexity, with a much larger density of people strewn about through the capital. There were homes and places of industry everywhere, running on for some time, not dissimilar from Andaris. Most notably was of course Scalvoris' campus of the University of Viden, but he found that attempting to use it as a point of reference in his directional search had only let him astray. Inevitably, he ended up at the ass end of nowhere, with several shanty looking individuals staring him down.
One of them, a woman of long and frizzy ginger hair and clothes that barely seemed to want to stay on, called out to him in an accent that made the mage visibly cringe.
"Ey, ya fancy lookin' nutta," she called out to him, parting her lips to reveal rotted silver-crusted teeth. "Ye come here fer me savices, man? Gots ta get 'ome to me kids, soon, but fer double price I'll treat ya," she whispered, raising her head and - by her standards - seductively placing one leg before the other. Alistair, avoiding eye contact, shook his head.
"No, that will be quite alright," he replied. "I'm looking for Cally's. Do you know where it is?" he asked, getting straight to the point.
"Ey mate, ya think I'mma tell ya shit fer free?" she asked, turning to one of her male friends and laughing. "Feck off, ya foreign shite," the woman cursed. Alistair rolled his eyes and turned around, yet again lost in the search. As he did, however, he noted something standing beside what appeared to be one of the city guard. A map! Oh, gods. He'd been looking for one of these!
A smile consuming his face, the mage stepped over, scanning the parchment with his eyes before nodding once and setting off to find Cally's, not all too far from here.
The restaurant - though it was more complex than just that - seemed to be in a middle ground between the bourgeois and proletarian, in an area likely on the edge of each respective community. It did not surprise him that Faith would not totally surrender her roots as a common woman, if not lower than that, a slave. She did not fear, perhaps, the thought of sharing land with those many might consider fearsome and undesirable.
Alistair stepped forward, and through the doors of the restaurant. It was a fine enough establishment. While it did not yet resemble the majesty of a posh eatery in Sabaissant, the mage knew that Faith cooked better than practically any of the fanciful men and women of his home city. She'd get there, before long. He could already see that the place was packed, only lucky that a small table in the far corner of the restaurant seemed currently vacant.
Stepping towards a woman who appeared to act as a hostess, Alistair put on a charming smile, and she did in turn... and then some. Her eyes actually appeared quite flirty, but the mage ignored whatever gleaming look she was trying to offer him.
"What can I get for you, sir?" She asked, her voice an attempt at coy. Alistair sighed. Did everyone have to make advances on everyone else, outside of Rynmere? If there was one thing he missed about numbering among the nobility, it was the respect and dignity that others offered him.
"I'd like to be seated," he stated, "just me. Your owner, uh - Faith Nardovino. Is there any way I could request her as my server?" the noble questioned.
Trudi quirked her lips, and looked towards him once. "I'll be right back with that answer," she told him. "Until then, be seated in the corner. I should be back with you shortly."
Alistair nodded, walking towards the table in the corner of the room, freshly cleaned off by a young man with long brown hair. Smiling quaintly at the younger gentleman, the tall nobleman took a seat, staring at the menu before him.
"Ruby, Onyx, Diamond..." he whispered, flipping through the well-crafted pages.
