(120-10-24) Street Talk
Street Talk
Summary: Plying an urchin with coins for information, Aeron ends up getting a meal out of the transaction.
Date: 24/10/2013
Related: None

Harbor Street

A narrow cobblestone street overlooking the Docks, snaking upward into the heart of the city. Lined with aged stone buildings, these support the weight of timber-framed over-hanging houses that look not too steady. The dockside can be seen quite clearly from the street, with the Whispering Sound in the far distance.

The shops here deal with the business of the sea. Fishmongers with carts and stalls, heaped full with fish of all kinds, cry their wares. Taverns and brothels await the coin of sailors fresh from the docks.

An array of strange temples, with stranger gods depicted upon them, are tucked away at the far end of the street. Opposite from them stands the slightly shabby-looking Sailor's Sept.
CONTENTS: Kelinyx(P)
Ragpickers' Wynd <RW>
Oldtown Square <OS>
Docks <DS>


Tall with broad shoulders, Aeron's robust frame is frequently complemented with a roguish smile. His build is quite solid and muscular, alluding to a life of well-fed physical exertion. Silvery-blonde hair is close cropped in a soldier's fashion and its bright color contrasts with lightly tanned skin. Aeron's pleasant visage and violet eyes mark him as a member of the Targaryen family.

Aeron is dressed in leather armor that, though clearly well worn, is in an impeccable state of repair. Peaking out behind seams, joint and cuffs are light, airy black-dyed fabric that is possibly linen or silk. His calf-high boots are also dyed black, but are more well-worn than the rest of his attire and lend an impression of traveling boots. A hooded black cloak is secured to the collar of his armor by way of a pair of silver broaches fashioned in the coat-of-arms of the Targaryen family.

A broadsword is belted about his waist and hangs at his left side. On his right side is sheathed a dagger and a knife with an ornate handle stylized into a dragon. Small loops of cordage and thin leather strips hang attached off the back of his belt.


Perhaps four feet tall, very slender with ragged but functional light leather britches and boots, this child's appearance speaks of a malnourished past and improving fortunes. Save for a white ribbon about her neck, the dark cloth wraps that cling to Keli's skinny body absorb light, and about her waist is a belt with pouches, phials and a large, rusty dagger on each hip. The girl's features are exceedingly youthful, perhaps ten years old, but a bit excessively and perhaps troublingly gaunt, her eyes huge as a result. She often obscures her dark black hair with an a-line cut via hood and face wrap which bares only her eyes, and her movements are almost always impressively quiet.

Scene Start

Having just recently arrived in Oldtown, Aeron is still exploring the city, observing how little things have changed since the last time he was here many years ago. His wanderings have brought him to Harbor Street, followed by his attendant who is leading a packhorse. The signs for taverns and brothels seem to catch this Targaryen's eye moreso than anything else this street has to offer.

It seems that one of the pet people from some estate has scaled the garden walls and slipped back into her home environment on the streets. Keli is dressed in ragged leathers but rather fresh cottons, her hair up in two buns with bangs swept across the brow. The little boy-girl chews on an apple noisily as she walks among the full-sized people with a proud gait, a touch cocky but no less graceful as she deftly avoids any collisions with the less attentive around her. She's tiny, skinny like a dancer, and she's just as light on her feet.

Aeron looks back to his horse, and says, "What's that?" He arches a brow and looks in the direction of the little girl, who Aeron had nearly missed seeing in the crowd of people. "Wot's what m'lord?" the attendant asks, causing Aeron to turn back to the horse. "I wasn't talking to you," he says and continues to speak to the horse. "I think you might be right." He takes a couple of steps to orient himself in Kelinyx's direction and calls out, "Hey, girl. Little girl!"

Kelinyx blinks a few times as her head tilts, swivels, then her body follows. She peers at the man with great scrutiny, her icy blue eyes a bit harsh in their unblinking focus, but soon a grin comes over her features. She stops walking, letting the man come to her if he thinks whatever is so important!

Aeron walks a couple of steps and bends his knees to crouch a couple of inches. He beckons Kelinyx with a large wave of his arm, "Come over here a minute would you?" He frowns a moment, looking over his shoulder and yells, "I was getting to that, thank you very much." Looking back at Kelinyx, he rolls his eyes and struggles to fish out a stag from underneath the leather sleave of his armor.

Kelinyx hmms, narrowing her eyes as she approaches the man. A teasing smile turns her lips as she looks him up and down, then she offers the kind of clumsy bow that comes from the lowlifes trying to fit in or mock the upper crust. "A pleasure meetin' you, sir," she says warmly. "What could I do for you?" she asks, as though she hardly believed she could offer him anything, though still grinning.

Aeron offers a lopsided smile at the girl's attempt at etiquette. "You're a urchin, I take it?" he asks, not beating around the bush. "Or at least spend enough time doing things that require you to carry those," he says with a thumbing gesture at her daggers. "What can you tell me about Oldtown?" he asks and flips the coin towards her.

Kelinyx catches the coin, but examines it upward in her palm, like it might stink. "Uh?" Her pale blues turn up to him, pupils tight. "I'm in service to a lady, thank you kindly," she says flatly, a level of clumsy but no less clear cunning evidencing itself. "What can I do for you, sir?" she reiterates, her grin tightening a bit, shrewdness entering her demeanor. "It's just a big place full of nasty people and a few nice ones. Dogs are about as mean as the cats, those are about as mean as the rats, those are about as mean as the people, and those are about as mean as the nobles. Exceptions, uh course, but rare."

"I'm more keen on knowing more about Igdannha Targaryen," Aeron says. Crossing his arms across his chest, he continues, "Specifically, I am interested to know what people here think about her. Good or bad." He nods his head towards Hightower, looming in the distance over all the other buildings near them. "You do know who she is, right?"

Kelinyx raises a brow. "You ask some pretty bold questions," the child openly wagers, crossing her arms over her plank of a body, half legs and poised a little tensely. She raises a brow. "She's a fine Lady. She seems to be made of generosity," the girl reveals, at least teasing at what the man seeks. She might be a little savvy after all.

"So I've heard. And is anyone trying to take advantage of that generosity?" Aeron asks. He starts to fish out another coin from beneath his armor.

Kelinyx rolls the coin dextrously across her fingers while eyeing the man curiously. "She has benef..benif….you, know, she helps people," the girl says, stumbling a bit over her own vocabulary. "I can see if she would like to meet with you," she dares in a more private tone.

Aeron nods, clearly understanding the girl, but if he knows the word she was trying to choose, he does not offer it. "I'm more interested in what you have to say, than having you arrange a meeting. Is she the lady you serve?" he asks, finally fishing out the coin and preparing to toss it to Kelinyx.

Grunting with a bit of surprise as more coin is offered to her, her little fingers dancing over his hands and snatching the coin up. "She is fairer than fair, delicate like a flower, eh? Got legs and feathers like the most beautiful bird." Keli does a bit of a twirl about the man, clearly more excited about the possibilities of engagement than the total sum of truth. "But truly, she is a Targaryen, and her face and hair bear it so."

"Truly," Aeron replies. A smile forms on his face, clearly amused by the girl, but he watches her with a careful eye. "And the lady you serve? Is it this Targaryen flower, or another?"

Kelinyx purses her lips in thought, brows lowering. "No, I am in service to Lady Reyna Lothston of Harrenhal, pledged to the Tully family." She nods her head, a flexy-bendy bow given to him proper. "And I am Kelinyx, which is a warning as well as a name where I come from."

Aeron simply nods his head in return to Kelinyx's bow. "You can call me Aeron," he says. The horse catches his attention for a short moment. "Sworn to the Tully's, but in the end we always bow to the Targaryens, do we not?" It's a rhetorical question that is followed with, "Valar Dohaeris. Do you know what that means, Kelinyx?"

With her hands folding behind her back, Keli trots back up to the man, her smile remaining. "A pleasure to meet you. And I don't know about all that. I just started paying attention to all that myself," she admits a bit more openly, though this might be bait should she be so clever. "I've heard talk like that before, but I only know the tongue of the streets and merchants. Like ya hear right now."

"It means, 'All men must serve'," Aeron says and adopts a very stern and serious expression. He cannot hold it for very long and finally cracks a grin. "Now, enough of all this serious talk. What I really need to know is where I can get a good meal. A place where they don't water down the beer and don't spit on your plate."

"I just foun' myself in a little coin lately and I can taste a rat. Ain't no rats in the Hermit's Break, just a few blocks down." She tugs at the man's arm, apparently expecting him to lead his horse. "So after I feed you, then what do I do?" she asks, as though she were obviously the leader of the two.

Aeron allows himself to be led for now, but motions subtly to his attendant to follow. "Well, after I've eaten, and assuming you haven't tried to pick my pocket by then?" he asks with another grin. "Then you shall do whatever it is you do. I'm going to guess that you'll tell the Lady Harrenhal about all this. So, if she's a pretty one, then maybe you'll be so kind as to embellish the story in my favor."

Kelinyx raises one brow to his request, then giggles, dragging him along, a lash for the horses near the front of the restaurant but on a slope to the side to keep away unpleasant aromas. Letting him tie up the steed, she takes him inside and lays down enough coins for a full meal for both, a fresh bird and everything. It's not extravagant but it's good quality and spiced heavily. There aren't many patrons, leaving the two free to speak privately in a corner of the establishment.

Aeron seems rather impressed by the amount of coin that Kelinyx presented. He holds off making any comments about it until after the server finishes bringing their meal. In the meantime he makes small talk about the weather, the smells of the ocean and comments about his experiences in Oldtown so far. "That was an impressive display of wealth for someone so young. Courtesy of your lady?"

Kelinyx nods her head. "I take care of my problems, have before, still will." She gives him a playful elbowing as a pheasant roasted and spiced is delivered, cinnamon apple juice for them both. "So you might be looking for a good impression with Lady Igdahn, then? She is a very quiet young woman."

"I can respect that," Aeron says. He withdraws his dragon-handled knife and sets to quickly carving up the bird. "I was not too much older than yourself when I set off on my own." Stabbing at a thigh, he starts to eat the flesh off the blade. "Oh, I think making a good impression with Igdannha is probably not in my fortune. When she speaks, what's it about?"

Kelinyx hmms quietly. She examines her palm, some of the coins he gave having gone into their meal, showing at least some level of generosity and a sense of fairness. "Well, she is to herself, right? She is quiet and likes to do what she thinks is kind. Part of why I came to attetion. So that, and ermberderr..embroi…embroidery!"

"Embroidery is it?" Aeron asks as he attacks his meal. "A fitting hobby for a lady, I suppose. I'm not one for that sort of thing, though." He stabs at a piece of breastmeat. "Hunting, fighting, drinking, who…," Aeron manages to catch himself on that one, and continues, "Right, and hawking, that's a good time right there."

Scene End

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