Who

E'bert, G'tan

What

G'tan comes across E'bert in the Bazaar and gets a little insight about the place.

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-second day of the first month of the second Turn of the 12th Pass.

Where

Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Central Bazaar

All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.


The hustle of the bazaar is one of E'bert's favorite things. The allure may be lost on some, but to one that has spent his life in the bazaar it never leaves. He's found himself a place to lean where he's out of the way, and from time to time he glances off towards one of the shops. Waiting for someone? Probably not.

For G'tan, the hustle of the Bazaar is still something pretty new…but he's definitely loving it! With Whirlwind drills done and no sweeps until the evening, the bronzerider wends his way through the afternoon crowds at a leisurely pace, stopping often to peruse various stalls - mostly the ones with sharp objects or leather and metalwork. Grins come easy for the greetings he receives, as do winks for the occasional flirtatious glances cast his way, and eventually he ends up near a stall laden with leatherwork that happens to be right near where E'bert is hanging about. Glancing over, he spots the young brownrider and gives him a nod. Smirking, he gestures to the wall being propped up by the young man. "Don't think that's gonna go anywhere anytime soon," he notes jovially before looking down momentarily to finger the edge of a pouch flap. "A watcher rather than a wonderer, huh?"

E'bert gives a shrug at that along with a wry grin, "I grew up over there," and he points towards the open door of a bakery, "Waiting for my sister to finish her deliveries." He's made a promise to the girl, and he never breaks his promises. "E'bert, brown Karkath's," is offered as the bronzer isn't recognized. Sure if he wanted he could ask Kar, but he's feeling lazy. Not something that he indulges in very often.

Eyes follow where E'bert points, and G'tan's smirk widens to a grin. "Oh, a baker's kid, huh? Lucky!" The bronzerider holds out his hand, stepping around to the side of the stall closer to the younger man. "G'tan, bronze Zinakoth's. Well met." Probably to the chagrin of the man who owns the stall, the somewhat burly bronzer leans up against one of the supports. "So if you grew up here, you must now the place pretty well. Still learnin' it, myself. Anywhere I should watch out for down here? Anyone?"

A thoughtful look crosses E'bert's face as he looks round, "Pretty much everyone's alright. Don' cross the Steens," probably the best advice G'tan will get from anyone, "The best leather's found out in the caravan grounds," not that the stall owner next to where he's waiting for his sister is bad, just the best is with the caravans, "Though ye want to be careful with some of the caravans. Some of 'em have a shifty look." Which ones escape him at the moment. "Zingari are a good group. Deal fairly with everyone unless ye give 'em reason not to."

"Oh, yeah - the Steens," G'tan echoes, his brows arching as he nods. "Heard that name pretty quickly upon getting here. I'll keep that in mind about the leather. Though I also heard the Reika were the ones to go to for that. Maybe they're comparable?" He shrugs. It may be one of those things he has to decided for himself. "So where has the best booze for sale?" G'tan has his priorities straight.

E'bert nods, "Reika are good too," is admitted. A shrug is given for the question of booze, "I don't drink," because it would not be pretty to see a rider's throat swell shut, "but I'm told the Dustbowl Cantina has some really good booze for those who can." He's at least being honest. After all, one can not give an objective opinion on such matters if one doesn't drink. A small girl that is nearly the mirror of E'bert bounces into view, "You coming to lunch? Mama has a new recipe she'd like to-" The girl stops mid-sentence and turns to look up at G'tan, "Hi. I'm Zisiene. What's your name? Do you have a dragon? Can I meet him, or her sometime? Are you hungry?" This last is said as she holds out the basket in her hands. In the basket is one last loaf of bread. The questions that are peppered towards G'tan draws a sigh from E'bert. "Zisiene, my sister," he says. "If the deliveries are done, you should get back to the bakery. Tell Ravene I can't stop in today. I'm going to be late for sweeps as it is."

G'tan was thinking more along the lines of bottles of alcohol for sale, since he's known about the Dustbowl for a while now, but before he can clarify, there's a sudden child in their midst. He grins as he's bombarded with questions and nods when E'bert introduces her. He'd figured! But then he's shooing her off and taking his own leave, and G'tan gives a shrug and waves after the brownrider. "See you around, E'bert," he call after the younger rider. Back to perusing the stalls he goes - a little wiser about where to go for his leather, at least.

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