Oberym had been traveling again; their were really few days he didn't travel.  Some times he had left in the pursuit of knowledge, or a rare tome or book to add to his collection, or to find another man of his occupation to exchange ideas with over tea, or perhaps a bit of wine.<br/><br/>During his travels, however, he happened upon a stage, upon which a rather beautiful bard had a rather exciting tale to tell. One that most certainly piqued his interest. Though  his original plan had him just breezing right through this place, he found himself stalling to become enraptured with her tale. His pony stalled right alongside him; he had been walking, his things in saddlebags upon the pony, and his faithful familiar traveling on the steed.<br/><br/>After her story had been finished, he found himself wishing to express his thanks to the storyteller, and the way which she managed to eloquently string her words together, and the passion with which she spoke. It was as he approached, however, he caught glimpse of a man. Perhaps her lover, he thought.<br/><br/>He hung back to passively observe the exchange between the two, not wishing to intrude upon a private matter...but soon he saw sparks flying, and started to believe that their relationship was not of the loving and caring variety. It was usually not his way to get involved with other people and their problems--unless they were paying for his knowledge and advice-- but he detested men that handled women in such a manner.<br/><br/>Still, Oberym was not a man subject to snap decisions or to giving into his anger. He could very well smite the man with his magic, but what good would that do? That would just cause more problems. He opted, instead, for a less violent approach to the situation. Words that reeked of eldritch, arcane powers slipped freely, expertly from his mouth. " ɯɐʎ ʎon sןnɯqǝɹ ןouƃ ɐup ʍǝןן." He whispered, and so, their would not be one that could hear him, but if they had...the words have an almost unpleasant, slithering quality to them. Despite the quietness of his voice, the words themselves were strong, and radiated a sort of power of their own.<br/><br/>The spell he had cast was simple enough; 'Sleep'.  He had targeted the man, intending to simply have him pass out on the ground, giving the girl time to compose herself and get away from his clearly unwanted attention.