Blood lingered in the air here. It was like the scent after the gentle showers of rain, save instead of refreshing and jovial, a hint of rebirth, it was the stark opposite. Oppressive, a grim recollection of the end - of the open grave that this town stead was. So it seemed fitting that the merchants that had roosted here appeared especially dubious of their clients. With good reason, he surmised, holding the pistol aloft to further inspect it, admiring its weight. It was bold of them to sell such a tool here, right under the nose of the guard that stood but a few mere meters away. They had grown lazy, idle, and unobservative in the lush of their control. Command over the new section of the map they had slapped their name on was all but assured. The rabid wolf king offered a draft in response, a cloying chance to draw his troops together and rally them, but that effort, too, had alas ended in demise. The luxury of a lowered attention had the dare of the barrel pointed towards the armor shrouded figure. The shop keep shifted in nervous display, unwilling to voice an objection to his action, but obviously wishing to do so. Did they fear the presumed masters here? Perhaps they figured if he was caught they would be placed in shackles, cuffed to the fate of those who lived in Anderstel. Cattle. Fresh meat for the butchers of Lavalles. Down the cool blight of silver did the carmine iris of his mismatched gaze peer, the bead fixated smoothly, steady upon his intended target. "Bang." The word escaped him on a soft chuckle, as he turned the dangerous muzzle instead heavenward. He couldn't help the jackal's grin that curved his lips as he turned the full weight of his attention back upon the seller. He was not a frail looking man, but the mask he presented his buyers whispered uncertainties, a hard wired horror. Could he smell it too? Yij would draw in a long, slow breath, allowing the corroded air to flood his lungs, roll upon his tongue. Casual violence made its home here. These passerby, however, did not. They would deal their goods, their weapons of revolution, and then they would depart the chaos they knew would follow. How long before they were banned? How long before the dark dyed wood was ripped from their faces and names were pinned to those who would supply the bedlam? Alas, he would allow the breadth of his stare to ease, a nonchalant shrug given. "I'll take two." Insurance that he would not wind up on someone's damned menu again. Something he could never have enough of in his line of work. Especially with the one he had agreed to meet here.

Jahi

Whispers amongst the temple’s devout had long pulled his ears. Hushed phrase over the peculiarities which drifted amongst the relative quiet of Anderstel. Faces seeming to come from far and wide, a beacon placed upon the fields with the very settlement of fabled merchants and their wares. Each scented of wolves, of the damned, of fresh meat. No matter where one hailed from - no matter the species claimed - each could provide. Each could be lured into the flock upon the twisting of eloquent phrase, of the promises one made. Word he so oft kept. For those he did not? They certainly wouldn’t be spreading such lies any time soon.

However, those of the past did not hold his focus for with the unknown came questions. Creatures who sought guidance while others wished for blessing to look upon such things for themselves. Never had they been restricted. Wherever he may roam, whatever he himself may procure - there was no use denying them of that. And Jing could not deny his own curiosities over the very items one spoke of. Enchantments, books, vials of unknown substance, weaponry. So much said to decorate those counters… he needed to see it for himself.

That next request to wander granted with added initiation that he travel at their side. Arrangement the pious was all too eager to accept. Clinging to ever word uttered, steps hardly straying from Jing’s side as they were seemingly unwilling to allow their proclaimed prophet from sight. Normally he would have preferred a more casual outing yet this provided extra eyes. Insurance should anything untoward arise, that another could be sacrificed in his place. He knew they would leap at the chance. So willingly would one throw themselves at his feet should it be asked of them.

Passing thought which brought a grin to decorate his lips. The gentle clink of gilded halo sounding with a tilt of his crown, the vibrancy of his gaze scanning for signs of another. A man never hard to locate when it came to his own eccentricities. No doubt tormenting the very vendor he stood before in the ways they shifted in place, the noticeable tilt of their skull angled toward stationed guard in silent plea for assistance should a deal go south. Yet those who drifted, beasts of temporary station, were so often cast in the same light as the very cattle farmed.

Just another target. A being who would fall prey to those who dwelt beneath the shroud. Twisted tales so many helped to keep alive, he included, for already sights had settled upon a few who not only perused lain out goods but stood perched behind the counters as well. Steadily focus would settle upon the reverent, a creature he sought to be rid of as assignment laced his tongue. Speak with another at his behest, potential seen in the future of one gestured to. Task that - with some hesitance - sent another ducking from his side. No matter how long they spoke it would be enough. A moment of reprieve to speak with a so called ‘friend’, a pawn in the name of business.

Heels clicked lightly upon the path, smooth lyrics announcing a presence before digits would ghost over the display of weaponry. Falsified concern twisting his tone, “Now now my friend, don’t go tormenting the keepers. They’re only trying to do their job.” A flash of fangs before vibrancy shifted. Expression forcefully steadied as a feeling of utter disgust rose upon the sickly touch radiating from the gun hovering beneath cloaked fingers. Weaponry carefully lifted in haphazard examination as his previous distraction scurried in to take a look as well.

Letters dancing over crinkling ‘flesh’ as it peered into the barrel. If the thing didn’t get itself torn to bits it would serve him well. Eyes and ears to prowl the temple whenever a new ‘recruit’ was allowed to mingle, whenever the faithful were left to their own devices. For now it was a self assigned assistant in another purchase. Though it was neither the merchant nor the contorting flutter of paper that inquiry was issued toward. Piercing lime holding the man’s own, taking note of how he already held two of such weaponry. “What do you think? Does the craftsmanship live up to what this one’s claimed?” Or did they sell shoddy forgeries?

---

i'll make him a table later 8|

He knew the caravan would depart soon, intel given readily by the sellers themselves. 'Only available for a short time! Take your chance now! in two day's time the option will leave your fingers forever!' They cried from booths and from the soap boxes they perched themselves atop of. The checkpoints had been placed along the routes outside of the city, his men ready to strike as soon as they were out of the jurisdiction of the Anderstel guards. While none knew the direction the caravans were destined to take upon their leave, there were only a few set streets able to bear carts of this multitude. By the morning after their departure, his gang would be flush with new weaponry and the crescents spent today would find themselves right back into his pockets. It would put him a step above the competition once more, securing his reign over his little section of fetid hell. “Now now my friend, don’t go tormenting the keepers. They’re only trying to do their job.” Despite the lack of it, he felt sure the self proclaimed deity would be mocking those around him. In his dealings with the being thus far, there was a certain air of unease that prickled the hair at the back of his neck. Something that should he rise his head within the land he had staked claim on, he would bare his teeth in threat. Quench the flames of rebellion ere they had the time to smolder and rise into a problem. However, so long as they remained business partners and the divine took no interest in his own personal affairs, counsel is all he would take. Blood money. As such, a light hum drifted from his lungs in observation. He did not miss the shadow of the god's entourage departing him - though he was beyond certain the unknown would not linger overly far. The guns would be holstered, the sheathes upon his hips covered by the rugged furs that cloaked his form. They would join the biting arsenal of his blades one of silver and one of iron. He was no fool, and he did not trust any with whom he worked, and this newer candidate was no different, yet hostility was not good for business. One caught more flies with honey and all that horseshit he supposed. That's what his sister had told him once at least, when she cleaned the bloody nose he'd earned for being an asshole to one of the other little street urchins. While she was long departed, at least some of her lessons had managed to worm within his mind. "Fair enough," the words were coarse with feigned dejection. “What do you think? Does the craftsmanship live up to what this one’s claimed?” His hand would trace over the newly acquired weapon, thumb edging over the bite of the hammer, thoughtful as part of him recoiled at the action. He'd learned in the time since his attack that silver did indeed affect him to some degree. Wounds of steel and iron healed quickly, but those imparted to his flesh with sterling lingered far longer. The vampirism within him, he assumed, and while none knew he was truly not among their number, the rumors often proposed more harmful methods of trying to deal with his regime. "Haven't gotten to test it out quite yet, but," he would offer a slight smirk, "enough to make my skin crawl, if that's what you need to know." His hand would leave the grip, a dismissive gesture of the booth. "Shall we find a spot a bit more quiet? Maybe a target will.... happen along."

Jahi