Two bright red eyes opened lazily to the late morning sun, bright channels of the light streaming through the elf's curtained inn window irreverent to his attempts to sleep in. He sighed as he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. His room in the inn was one of the nicer ones - he had been staying here for quite a bit, and had gained a pleasant relationship to the innkeeper downstairs. It was sizable, which was apparent as he strode to his bureau, pulling a long sleeved white top from one of the drawers and pulling it over his head. He donned a green vest and brown trousers, and adorned himself with his bow and quiver, and then slipped into his leather boots on his way out, locking his door as he did so. 

Bounding down the inn stairs and into the common room, the elf pulled his reflective white hair into a ponytail at the base of his skull, tying it with a small thong. He greeted the handful of serving maids doing various tasks around the hall to prepare it for this night. A few lookd up at his departure, one polishing a candelabra flashing him a smile and another dusting saying a polite greeting. He answered each in turn, nodding happily as he ducked out of the inn's door. 

Seralis smiled as he stretched his arms above his head, sighing leisurely as he felt the sun's rays bake into his dark skin. The marketplace was agog with the coming harvest, and people from all walks of the world congregated in the city lively with bright smiles and full pockets. The dark-skinned elf stepped lightly onto the cobbled street, leaving The Weeping Phoenix n behind as he mingled in with the eager crowd. There were myriad merchants hoping about excitedly, promising the best product and prices with booming voices, all manner of accents coloring their speech. Seralis ducked and weaved his way through the traffic deftly, making much small talk and exchanging many handshakes. 

There wasn't much on his mind today; his pockets were fully lined from a batch of specifically benevolent salves he sold to a shop on this very street, and he held no pressing responsibilities at this moment. He walked on without a destination, passing several stalls and storefronts of interesting sundry specialties, his eyes rolling over them without need for pause. It wasn't until he made it to the food section of the market, the lingering scents of food wafting gently on the slight breeze caused by so many feet, did he realize there was a faint, but incessant gnawing in his stomach. He slipped away into the maze a stalls, coming across one bearing familiar fruit of the south. He bought some eager, even without haggle over the exorbitant prices put in place for the tourists, biting into the citrus fruit with vigor. He wiped the juices from his chin as he chewed, finding a small perch to sit on, and looking around with wide eyes.