[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f1/85/27/f18527d7485dedd7c11423174ad2fb8c.jpg[/img][/center]

[color=gray][center][b][color=f26522]Time of Day[/color]:[/b] Dusk
[b][color=f26522]Season[/color]:[/b] Late Summer[/center]

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[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180603/be53d9364c99330d19f98edc0d023570.png[/img]
[color=#008080][b]Interacting with:[/b][/color] No one, at the moment[/center]
The milky blue hue of the sky diminished into a brazen yellow as the sun began its descent. During this hour in Vauclause, the streets became mostly empty of sentient life. Some would still be out in the streets, completing their final chores for the day. If it wasn't for the people, there would be the cats that lurked in the alleyways in search of rats and birds that stayed out too late. Overall, Vauclause was a sleepy town at this hour. Besides the drowsy commoners and the sneaky felines that prowled the cobblestone roads, there were the people who rummaged through the streets in search of fun and drink.

Night was considered something dangerous in the southern Lutairian town. It wasn't just the rapists that pounced upon women or the cut-purses whose daggers gleamed in the dying light. There was something other than the cats that lurked the roadways. There was always the strange shape, the crooked torsos, the smiles lined with pointed teeth. Whether they were demons or beasts, no one ever wanted to figure out. Some believed they were safe there. They didn't believe there was anything to worry about past the town's gates. That the beasts stayed away from civilizations because they knew that humans there would prove too big of a hassle to hunt. There were even people who swore that magic didn't exist-- that it was merely a child's tale that taught children not to dabble too much in the unknown. The friars shouted in the streets on early Sunday mornings, [i]Lorelei's blessing is upon us all![/i]

Lorelei. 

He remembered when he was seventeen. Dabbling in his urges, Tristan did not turn to Lorelei but to the whores with full breasts and wide hips. Swordplay was a song to his ears, not the hymns of the church's choir. And it was seventeen when he thought, [color=#008080][i]Lorelei does not exist.[/i][/color]

Tristan stood under the shade of one of the tavern's overhangs. Even though it was evening, the southern sun bore into the earth and warmed its core. He was sweating underneath his black cotton tunic and azure cloak because of the heat. Or maybe it was the drink that was making him sweat so much? It was a bad day-- he had spent much of it drinking. He was clearly drunk, but not the happy type of drunk that he usually was. No, this time the Tenebroux coconut rum had mellowed him out and made him feel like... well, a [i]coconut husk.[/i] Exhaling a wistful sigh, he ran a hand through his blonde hair as he cast his eyes up to the darkening sky. 

The sky wasn't yellow, anymore. A tinge of blues, purples, and grays had plagued it. A gentle breeze slid between the buildings and swept fallen leaves up into its embrace. It was a sign. His plan would soon be set into motion.

Months had passed without any sign of the Soque. Tristan knew they were far south and most likely would never come in contact with any of them, for they were a solitary people who did not directly mettle with international politics. But they hadn't brought gunpowder or silver ore from the mountains-- they hadn't even brought dragonsteel, which was lighter than steel but much stronger. Sure, Lutaire could very well mine its own metals. But creatures would get into the solitary mines and devour the innocent. There would be no chance of escape. 

[color=#008080][i]At least Soque's coldness only draws dragons and wraiths,[/i][/color] he thought with a putrid wrinkle of his nose. [color=#008080][i]We have dragons and wraiths and chimeras and manticores and rocs and--[/i][/color]

It had been a few days since Tristan had formulated a "plan". He tried to use "plan" almost sparingly, at least to himself, for it wasn't really a plan and just a general gist of what he was going to do. Dropping his head, he scratched at his scalp as he sought to soothe the itch that had been harassing him since this morning. Knowing his luck, he was bound to have fleas.

Y-yes, a "plan". He was going to solve this whole mess, single-handedly or not. 

First, he'd wait until dusk fell. Until [i]everyone[/i] was asleep. He didn't care if there really [i]were[/i] demons and creatures of the night wandering about town. Then, Tristan would go to that one guy's place. Dur... duranego? Durial? The Durands' homestead. They had those big birds. If he stole one or two of them, and then tried to gather a handful of people... they would go with him, right? 

[color=#008080][i]Of course they'd go with me. I'm Tristan Baske![/i][/color] he puffed out his cheeks, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stared at a leaf indignantly. [color=#008080][i]And if Tristan Baske wants to go someplace with two stryx then they [b]have[/b] to come with me. There's no saying no![/i][/color]

The wind blew again, spiriting the leaf deeper into Vauclause. Tristan stared after it, his fingers gripping the bare skin of his forearms. What with the sleeves of his tunic folded up to his elbows, the previously gentle breeze was beginning to nip at him...
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