Meren walked aimlessly along the gravel path that weaved its way through the city. He was in a marketplace presently, glancing around, looking for something to catch his eye. He saw nothing that peaked his interest here, and he was not entirely surprised. It was getting harder and harder to impress the man as time went on. His careless attitude and arrogant tone often scared away those who tried to sell him something that he did not want; this was a trait that he admired in himself very much. At his hip was a long-sword, carried mostly for decoration as he had no formal training in swordsmanship; after all, he did come from a family of warlocks and witches, as they were called in his hometown. The marketplace atmosphere was soon replaced by the quiet sounds of the residential district as he made his way south, to a tavern that he often visited when he was in Yholmnin. He still had quite a ways to go, but the walk was rather peaceful and Meren had no complaints at that particular moment.<br/><br/>For a while, his casual stroll through town was left uninterrupted. Soon after he had left the residential district and entered a portion of slums, the sound of his footsteps were joined by two others. He turned his head slightly, catching the sight of two hooded men wearing clothing similar to his behind him. Before they noticed his glance, he shifted his gaze back in front of him. He made his way to an intersection on the road and turned, which had him travelling east now. The two men followed, but Meren was still unsure if they were following him in particular. He made his way down an alley that he had not recognized, and instantly regretted changing his path. The two men followed him to the dead end in the alley.<br/><br/>Meren turned, facing the predators that had followed him for nearly a quarter-mile. His hood was up, shadowing his face from the two of them, who had their own hoods down. Both assailants had daggers, which Meren had no doubt they would use. He assumed that he was targeted because of the way he had dressed: an elegant grey hood and full leather armor to match. If they had targeted him based on his notoriety as a wealthy man, they would have sent more than two men after him.<br/><br/>"Do you plan on killing me here, the lot of you." he said, revealing his hands from underneath his cloak. They glowed blue and ice began to form in his hands; sharp shards that were capable of dishing out fatal wounds, only to melt, leaving no trace of a murder weapon. The thieves did not respond to him, but instead began to progress towards him. He did not move, save for the flick of his wrist when he threw one of the shards, which impacted the throat of the larger thief. The man fell, a pool of blood forming underneath him. Seeing this, his accomplice turned on her heal and ran out of the alleyway unscathed.<br/><br/>Meren allowed her to live so she would tell her friends that the blue elf was not one to be tussled with.