The soft breeze caressed the womann’s face, almost seducing her robust figure with the scent of efflorescing buds that had been brought from all corners of the land. Blackheart’s Flower Festival was, as always, to be filled with celebrations, beauty, fashion and competitions to reward those who produced the most formidable blossoms. Her gaze darted from one side of the street to another while she used the dorsum of her gloved hand to cover her nostrils. To her chagrin, carts pulled by both, peasants and beasts, kept bringing flowers in a never-ending wave. “My lady” someone whispered from behind. Cursing under her breath, the womann took a step forward and turned to face he who had sneaked behind her ear. “Lord Xarnata” she nodded slightly upon the visage of the purple and black robes, the golden chains and necklaces around his neck, the accounting books and the pampas white hair easily recognized from a mile away. “Ah, I see that you recognized me?” he feigned surprise. “Please, call me by my birth name, I am not Lord” “If Her Majesty calls you ‘Lord’ why would I not recognize you as such” “Simply because I do not hold the title, perhaps” “A title does not always come in the form of a document, it is sometimes simply recognized, Lord Xarnata” she proceeded to cover her nose once again.

“Allergies?” he asked. “Distaste” she quickly responded. “Ah, I see. So, you do have a weakness. I will make note to carry a bouquet if the time ever comes when I must duel Ashildr Darkholm.” Xarnata said in jest. Her yellow eyes squinted at the mann, who offered a purple handkerchief to cover her lower face. “Here, it smells like old parchment, it might help” he tied it up behind her back while still standing before her, seeming interested in the shapely, black leather bodice she wore.

“Now, to the matter at hand, my dear Lady Ashildr. And while I am aware you do not like to be called ‘lady’, I guess you and I have this common denominator, titles and what we wish to be known as…” the merchant lord chuckled. “Oh, for the sake of our people, I cannot begin to understand how diplomats can speak to you for more than one minute. No offense, Xarnata, but can you simply speak what you will and must and get it ‘over’ with?” the Darkholm womann slightly turned her head to gaze at the mann from the corner of the eye as they both walked past what would become, in a day, a large flower arrangement competition’s station. “You are right, Lady Ashildr. I have a proposition for you which can save you from this tedious and ‘distasteful’ job of overseeing the preparations today. You see, this merchant group from across the land wants to open up commerce routes that can…” “I do not deal with merchant matters” she interrupted firmly. “As with many things, my Lady, I am aware of that” Xarnata grinned as he feigned taking notes on his book, thus misleading anyone who could be following the pair. “These merchants have, in their possession, an old scroll that was found on an expedition a few days before their arrival here.” “And how do you know this?” Ashildr questioned. “Well that is my little secret. Just know that it comes from a trusted source, and your Master of Lore would surely love to have this book in his hands. As a matter of fact, I happen to know where they are residing, which is different from where they claim they are staying” the mann raised his eyebrows while he approached a flowering bud to sniff it, nodding at the young adolescent who was tending it.

“My lady” after walking several blocks a handsome young man, clad in fine chain mail armor walked towards them, his blue cape trailing behind. He held a tulip in hand, offering it to Ashildr. “I need some counsel regarding an important matter”. “Thank you, Kasabaru, but Lady Ashildr is rather allergic to…” “I am not allergic” she interrupted Xarnata’s words. “distaste…” he smiled. “I actually do not mind the smell at all” she added. “You are a most terrible liar, and actress, I may add” Xarnata’s smile widened. “Not really” the Darkholm lady untied the purple handkerchief and offered it back to the merchant lord “I simply pretended distaste, you even offered me this”. “Because you are a terrible actress. You lips move too much, and they can be read from a Kingdom away.” At these words, the merchant’s smile did not fade a single bit. “What is the location?” Ashildr asked before taking her leave. The man turned left and right, almost mockingly “Location? My lady, your allergies must be affecting you. I must take my leave now” he bowed as he stepped back. Irritated, she half turned to Kasabaru Kross, her dark leather a contrast to his almost shining metal. “I can understand why people dislike this mann. How can I help you, Kasabaru?” “We will just take a walk” the young mann responded, following with a whisper “I have the location”.