Juliana
The Capital City of Findara: Ardunon. It was Kiribu's first time in this particular city, and so close to the ocean. She hadn't had much trouble making her way about the city- fauns were generally well-liked across Lucidien, and a pretty young faun who was nice to talk to and even nicer to hear sing? Well, that might have been a bit of extra grease on the wheels. Not that Kiribu was complaining, of course. She knew exactly what she looked like and sounded like, and as long as no one was getting hurt, why not use what she had to her advantage? Besides, she was supposed to be spreading her name across Lucidien.

In a crowded city square, Kiribu stood out in the way unique to performers- a confident way of walking, the eye-catching manner of her dress, the lute strapped to her back that promised entertainment should one find the location she would be performing at. The colorful hand embroidery present on her sleeves and skirts complemented the soft painted flowers on her lute and the colored powder on her eyelids. 

However, Kiribu's attention was drawn to a rather tall elven man who was dressed so outrageously that it made her look quite plain by comparison. His clothing was mostly black and purple (nobility or royalty?), but with an exceedingly colorful inner lining on his long overcoat. He seemed a bit on the older end for an elf, too. 

Admittedly, he didn't give off the best aura... But Kiribu had never let that stop her. The surprisingly rhythmic tapping of hooves on cobblestone announced her approach, and she sidled up next to the man at a familiar, if respectful distance. 

"So, is that vendor over there any good?" She asked, gesturing with her head towards a man selling some sort of sweet fried dough. It was hard to tell if the faun was teasing him or being genuine, green-grey eyes peering up at him with hard-to-read intentions.

She didn't seem like a pickpocketer- they would've bumped into him and fled, not tried to start a conversation. She wasn't trying to sell him anything either- in fact, she was asking his opinion on spending her own money. Her interest in him clearly wasn't romantic, and if someone of his status wanted a bard for an occasion, he would be the one doing the requesting, not responding to a sales pitch. 

Really, this was just how Kiki had fun. Approaching strangers (especially ones that attracted attention) almost always led somewhere interesting, even in her home town. Since she'd gone out into the wider world, things had only gotten more interesting, and she wasn't about to fix what wasn't broken.
Lydia
The old mage Xelnore's mind was racing ever since he stepped off that Lazarothi ship onto the port of Ardunon. He had just returned from his trip to the island of wolves to meet the famed Doctor Henryk. A young man of incredible skill and knowledge who he had offered near everything he had. His library of magical tomes, his family fortune, his magical skills and talents, all for the sole purpose of achieving that aspiration which burned as bright as the sun since he was that young man trudging through the Blackwater Swamp.

*Immortality. True, unfettered, unending immortality*

And the doctor agreed. They would meet at his manor to discuss further details. Which is where he was heading now, starting his long trek from here in Ardunon all the way down to Crasmere. He, of course, was expecting disappointment upon his return. After all, he's been seeking immortality for 300 years. But now for the first time it seemed closer than it had ever been. The possibilities, what he should do next, how should he prepare his home when Henryk arrives, these thoughts all swirled through his mind like a storm as he entered the city square of Ardunon.

The mans hands rested in his pockets, his overcoat billowing behind him as it rested upon his shoulders. Atticus was uncommonly distant passing through the streets. Normally there was a certain life to how he walked, even in places he knew well like this one. A wide smile with darting eyes as though he were sight seeing somewhere new. But now he was simply just the strange old man who seemed to be in a hurry.

*Did I offer too much during our negotiation? I mean any price is worth life eternal but I can't remember the last I allowed one to have access to my troves of scrolls and tomes. Ah! Quell these thoughts, you're going to be immortal! Cease this pointless worry. It will be quite some time until you need to be home so why not do something fun to take your mind off of these dreadful concerns? You could always take a portal to Dasvas, finally try out that "God King" Idea you've been thinking about. Maybe catch a show while you're here in Ardunon? Perhaps-*

He would be pulled out of his plotting at the sound of hooves against stone and a question that followed them. The old magus turned his head to behold a green eyed Faun. A native to the realms of the Fey. Xelnore had seen plenty during his 400 years of life but he couldn't help but be a little surprised to see one so far from Thyseer. Ardunon is home to many though so if there was a place to meet this would certainly be one. 

Of course, the first thing he did was a threat assessment. Few could tell at a glance that Xelnore had the power to level an entire city block if he so pleased so he figured he should view anyone with that same level of scrutiny. And fortunately, there wasn't much he saw in terms of a threat from her. He could recognize traveling attire like this and judging by the lute slung over her back he suspected her to be a bard of some sort.

The old man glanced over to the vendor in question. Letting out a chuckle as he shook his head.

"I can't say I've given him a try but in all my times I've spent in this city the vendors of the square are often sub-par in terms of confectionaries and focus more on the location rather than quality"

He stated wistfully, placing two fingers under the brim of his hat and tilting it upwards to get a better view around him.

"If you're in the market for the truly divine sweets you're going to have to find them. I myself have been a regular customer of a pastry shop a few blocks down from here, if you'd believe. Their chocolate doughnuts are simply to kill for!"
Juliana
While Atticus was coming home to (hopefully) finish a long-anticipated job, Kiribu had left home to start a job. Two people at opposite ends of a journey, meeting partially by change, partially because of bardic shenanigans. Kiribu didn't take Atticus' (frankly sort-of obvious) threat assessment of her personally. Though both fauns and bards were generally well-regarded around Lucidien and not considered dangerous without provocation, bad people came in all shapes, sizes, and professions. That, and anyone who obviously had money would naturally be wary of randomly-approaching strangers. No one was ever truly safe from being attacked by someone who truly wanted to cause harm, but precautions existed for minimizing potential harm. 

The sheer amount of focus Atticus had displayed until she'd interrupted him had caught Kiribu's attention. Not many travelers had passed through a small village that farmed for sustenance rather than profit, so when a traveler did pass through, Kiribu had always tried to wring stories out of them. Some of them even became inspirations for ballads and songs, but more than that- Kiribu loved watching people tell their stories almost as much as she loved re-telling them with extra dramatique. Atticus was a man on a mission, and given his attitude and the way he was rushing about, his mission was nearing completion. 

In fact, she was almost surprised when he not only humored her question by answering honestly, he even gave her a personal recommendation. If he'd brushed her off and kept going she would have found it rude (naturally), but she wouldn't have been terribly upset or entirely shocked. Her ash-blonde hair bobbed a bit as her ears twitched up, posture and expression lessening in playfulness and straightening with attentiveness.

"Oh? I'll admit, my palette's quite unrefined- the only desserts I've had were quite homemade or food meant for the road. Your dispiriting recommendation of the local vendors is disappointing, but I trust your honesty. I do expect more details about this pastry shop, however."

Her answer was both witty and light-hearted, and her smooth yet expressive hand-motions when she talked showed off the handmade embroidery on her sleeves. It was no royal seamstresses' work, but it would certainly look nice while playing music for patrons. 

Of course, her intentions with this conversation weren't completely about pastries. She knew she probably wouldn't be playing at any functions a man like Atticus would attend, but inspiration for new work was inspiration for new work, and as much fun as it was being a wandering minstrel in taverns and such, Kiribu was very much interesting in climbing the ranks of the Brotherhood. It wasn't so much the glitz and glam of the upper crust that attracted her (though she was a weak faun for pretty clothes), but the inevitable advancement of her chosen craft that would ensue. Shanties and tavern dancing music was fun to play, and Kiribu of all people could never begrudge someone such harmless fun as singing and dancing in any form, but her view had shifted in the relatively short time she'd been an official minstrel.
Lydia
The old mage paused as he listened to the bard express her thoughts about his recommendation of the local pastry merchants of the city. He could sense the air of disappointment that had begun to surround her. But what greater disappointment is there than spending a fortune on something that was merely sub-standard? He had done this girl a great favor, one she would appreciate in the future. But right now, in this very moment, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of a feeling he wasn't familiar with at the sight of her. What in the world was it? Guilt? Regret? Xelnore pondered these thoughts but he knew well that wasn't likely the case. After all, he's done much worse to less deserving people with a smile on his face. Granted, he did those things to gain something. Progress in his quest, monetary gain, maybe the satisfaction of doing to someone who really annoyed him. Guilt and Regret were feelings he wasn't sure he was capable of feeling. 

And then it hit him. Pity.

Atticus Xelnore was the kind of man to be absolutely baffled the moment he feels empathy for another individual. Yet here he was, all over something that really wasn't even his intention. Maybe that's why he felt this way. Because for once he caused a negative outcome without The magus awkwardly tapped his foot as he glanced off to the side as the conversation seems like it was ready to die as quickly as it started. But then it hit him. Out of all the masks he wore. The wise old mage. The unstoppable force of nature. The eccentric old man. This was an opportunity to don another one. The benevolent traveler. Surprisingly, he was just as capable of benevolence as he is malice. After all, *He's* Fixing the problem. *He's* Bestowing gifts. *He's* The one being thanked. Much like a deity who performs wonders and other works of wonder on the mortal kind. It was moments like these that really enforced his overwhelming sense of importance he feels for himself. 

"Now hold a moment..."

He began as he glanced down the side street for a moment. His eyes locked as it was clear he was working something out in his mind before turning back to the bard.

"You know what? If I'm not mistaken that very shop is only a few blocks from here! It would be terribly rude of me to inform you of such a oasis of desserts and delights and continue on my way without showing you. Would you allow me to reconcile this by showing you its location?"

The old mage explained with an air of whimsy in his voice. After all, this mask was the eccentric old man with a dash of benevolent traveler. One that hid the true devil which hid itself behind a smile a mile wide. He placed a hand atop his hat and pulled it with him as he cross his arm across his chest in a polite little bow.

"And before I do you the discourtesy of forgetting to introduce myself. I am Atticus Xelnore. Patriarch of House Xelnore and the greatest mage to ever live"
Juliana
Kiribu was no mind-reader, but even she could sense that the elf was taking her reaction a bit too seriously. She didn't see a dessert recommendation as that big of a deal, but maybe this man was just very passionate about desserts. He certainly had the money to be as picky with food as he wanted, and while Kiki made enough to guarantee she'd not starve, she didn't make enough to ensure every meal was gourmet cuisine. Dessert was sometimes a luxury, and not something she could generally spend much on if she wanted actual sustenance some days. 

Unlike Atticus, Kiribu didn't wear much of a mask at all. She certainly enhanced parts of herself, especially when performing, but nothing about what she was enhancing was false. Wittiness, kindness, playfulness- none of these traits were something Kiribu ever had to fake, even after becoming a minstrel. To Kiribu, there was a vast difference between moderating herself to accommodate present company, and putting on a mask. Atticus' spontaneous creation of a new mask for himself, specifically inspired by a chatty faun, would certainly have been news to her if she'd been aware of such a thing. While she wasn't foolish enough to believe everyone was good-hearted and honest, Kiki figured she had very little to fear from dessert recommendations. 

"Oh..?" She asked curiously as Atticus seemed to interrupt both himself and her. It looked like he'd finally finished whatever minor internal crisis he'd had going on- was that just an elf thing? Did elves get weird if they live too long? Then he offered to show her the patisserie's location and finally (finally!) introduced himself. 

"Kiribu Straixe. I'm a Minstrel with the Noteworthy Brotherhood, and I generally go by 'Kiki' on-stage. Now, the dessert shop? You've sung it's praises well enough to tempt me."