As Old Wolf moved with only the barest hint of a stumble through the crowds that shuffled through the Plaza of the Fountain, he heard a sharp sniff, followed by an insufferably haughty voice, very obviously pitched such that Old Wolf might hear it. "You know, in my father's day they would never have allowed such drunks into the Plaza. It was a happier time, when the waliyah ruled the city..."<br/><br/>Turning, he saw that it was actually someone he knew -  Striking Eldu, a patriarch of the family that was most involved in the trade of grain and an occasional business partner, alongside his husband, Jade Adone, who replied in a softer voice that was drowned out by the rest of the crowd to Old Wolf's ears, but he could guess with a fair amount of accuracy what had been said by virtue of the merchant's reaction.<br/><br/>Striking Eldu chuckled, apparently distracted from the offensive sight of Old Wolf. "Of course, love, but you would<em>never</em>turn<em>me</em>in, would you?"<br/><br/>As he offered a similarly quiet rejoinder, Adone's lips quirked in a small grin.<br/><br/>"Yes, well, I'm sure that they would be a whole lot less, hm...<em>enjoyable</em>than you."<br/><br/>It was at this point that Wolf moved away from the quite obviously loving couple, who clearly had little of true importance to say.<br/><br/>Now, having waded through another, denser part of the crowd, the seemingly old vagabond was able to catch a closer look at Wali Shakar, though not so close that his janissary bodyguards might even take notice of him. Shakar, though, was as truly unimpressive as rumors painted him. A rotund man with the pale skin of one who had rarely, if ever, spent a full day under the Sun, his richly decorated ceremonial garments were a marvelously clashing ensemble of his family's favored colors - a distinct yellow and black pattern that reminded him of a Gateway board - and the pale greens and silty reds of the Mother River's (nominal) high priest.<em>Far</em>more intriguing were the janissaries themselves, golden-skinned giants (both male and female) who were garbed in breastplates and armored skirts, and who held themselves as quite clearly capable fighters.<br/><br/>Shakar leaned to murmur something to one of the Dragon-Blooded monks at his side, a man who, his serenity untouched by whatever the wali said, simply smiled and offered an equally quiet reply.<br/><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>Transcendant Starlight Beauty found herself walking on an easy path as the crowds parted, such that they might stare at her for longer. It was quite clear to her that the people of Akhetan, especially those who were not wealthy, had never seen one so beautiful as she. Starlight noticed the familiar lust in the expressions and attitudes of many men and quite a few women, though even those who did not have those lusts (or kept them better hidden than most) stopped as she passed them by, if only to appreciate the beauty as one might a beautiful sculpture.<br/><br/>As she arrived at the Plaza of the Great Fountain, where the throne intended for the Mother River sat empty, the Hidden Sun saw several relatively wealthy individuals whose purses might be attached to their bodies rather more loosely than they had hoped when they left their residences this morning - that pair of men<em>there</em>, for instance, seemed relatively wealthy - the way the (slightly) better dressed one had sneered at the somewhat scruffy wanderer indicated such, at any rate. Then there were the various groups of well-dressed men and women who stood in large groups - likely indicating their family and clan, if Starlight was any judge, but perhaps she was incorrect.<br/><br/>Before she could act on any of this, however, a small, weedy youth - probably no more than fifteen or sixteen - stepped out of the crowd even as it divided itself before her. The youth wore simple, but fair quality garments, mostly undyed wool, but with no hint of wear or tear upon them. His cheeks were somewhat scruffy with the beginnings of a traditionally Dun-lati beard, but his wide smile and twinkling eyes somehow turn it from off-putting to mildly charming. Altogether, he was not<em>un</em>attractive, though neither was he particularly beautiful, though there was a hint of something more beneath his expression...<br/><br/>He swept a polite bow, somehow turning the traditional greeting of equals in Dun-lati society into a flamboyant, flourishing gesture, and spoke. "Oh most radiant and beauteous one, this, your humble servant, must beg that you spare him a moment of your time." His voice was rich, and deep - clearly it had already broken, for there were no signs of adolescent voice-cracks. Lifting his head, he offered Starlight a somewhat rakish grin as the crowd around them stopped and began muttering to one another.<br/><br/>"... you think he knows..."<br/>"Maybe she..."<br/>"... probably trying to get her..."<br/><br/>Unmoved by the voices of the crowd, the youth tilted waited patiently for Starlight to react to him.<br/><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>Even as the beginnings of a public spectacle were taking place on the northeast side of the Plaza, Seven Words of Wisdom arrived from across the southwestern bridge. A less than stable replacement for the great arched bridges of old, this bridge had been built and rebuilt on a very simple post and lintel (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Post_and_lintel) schematic, and from wood at that. Making things more difficult was the fact that silty bottom of the Mother River often moved along with the water,<em>especially</em>during flood season. Why, not even two months ago the bridge on the northern side of the central district had collapsed beneath the raging waters of the River Ammon.<br/><br/>At any rate, Seven Words of Wisdom was finally at the familiar Plaza of the Great Fountain, where she would doubtlessly witness the final "official" event of the day, wherein the Mother River would grant a large jar of her river's water her blessing, which would then go directly to the wali's palace and be used for some purpose there. Given the fact that the wali was still in the plaza, she had the feeling that it had yet to happen.<br/><br/>However, she had not moved terribly far into the plaza before she noticed a pair of monks - actual Dragon-Blooded monks, at that - split off from the wali's group, leaving only one behind as they spoke with one another, their expressions rapidly darkening. The majority of mortals quickly stepped out of their way, bowing deeply to the righteous demigods and carefully ignoring whatever they might be saying before turning to stare at them in awe.<br/><br/>The two monks were approaching her rapidly, she noticed, and this might be somewhat more difficult if they recognized her. That said, of course, she<em>did</em>have some contacts in the Order, so perhaps word of her had spread as a reputable scholar amongst them, and they would be rather more polite.<br/><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>As Krum prayed quietly at the shrine, he heard a few footsteps approaching from behind him.<br/><br/>"You aren't from around here, are you?" A female voice asked, somewhat amused.<br/><br/>As he rose and turned to face the source of that voice, he saw a woman in her mid-forties dressed in the distinctive manner of a warrior - carrying a curved sword on one hip and wearing lightly armored clothing. Though her expression was quite serious, almost a frown, her eyes crinkled in a private smile, and twinkled with silent laughter.<br/><br/>"It's pretty easy to tell." She continued without waiting for him to respond. "Most people don't bother praying at shrines at this time of day - the Mother River's probably manifesting just over there," she jerked her head towards the south, where the Plaza of the Great Fountain was packed with the sweating bodies of hundreds of worshippers. "Tell me, why aren't you there?" She asked as she arched an amused brow.