[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/a7lPKeA.png[/img] [sub]Location: Loriind'ton Event: Tiims'archa race[/sub][/center] [hr] Whenever Otios entered some place he believed he might have seen before, he tried to remember the occasion and in particular the time when that had occurred. Knowing where and when oneself had been was an important thing for anybody who had to live in the steady, subtle fear of being remembered by somebody whom one might have pissed off a little too much -- even if said fear was very much one voluntarily accepted by oneself. Also only the greatest fools thought that people's pockets and houses would just refill themselves with valuables as if by magic, no matter how often one returned to loot them. Already on first glance however, Loriindton gave the impression of being an exception to this rule: The whole place looked as if conjured out of nothing and with said nothing then having been sealed away behind an unnatural, evergreen curtain that required gods knew how much magical practitioning to maintain. Could a city bristling with such an overabundance of carts, wagons, crago, traders and artisans ever be depleted of oblivious people one could still steal a lot from ? Maybe not. And the fact that there was no lack of huusoi only added bonus points to this for it would absolutely save him from the questionable morale of stealing from his own people, just in case... In fact, the density of this settlement almost felt a bit too intense. The light would drown out what little starlight had a chance to come through the oversized canopy at night and for something like true, fresh and untouched air one probably had to wait for the next violent storm to force its way through the maze of streets and hanging walkways. There certainly was a bit of irony to the fact that a city that was literally built in and out of a forest smelled as if burning through a whole forest in its many furnaces each day. [hr] If there was something that had serious potential to outline the vast difference between human and yasoi approaches to life, then it was what the latter tended to do with the fancy snails of their homeland. Only a species with a life expectancy greatly increased and, at the same time, a lot less of that inherent creed for combat, violence and drama could honestly arrange for something that involved no speeds greater than the abysmally small and still call it a 'race'. And only such a species could then even go so far and sort of professionalize the whole thing. Just how much time did it take to breed tiims'archa ? And then to sort out which of the snails was good for racing and which not if every test run did take several hours to complete ? Okay, one could attend to other stuff in the meantime, but what about actual training if anything like this was actually possible with these creatures ? Despite being a Yasoi himself, it just felt unimaginable for Otios to ever join this kind of business -- even assuming that he would cease living among humans and thereby stop being influenced by their much more fast-paced style of living immediately and for all time to come. Frankly speaking, he had had not the slightest clue about which of the snails in the competition to put his money on, but he had just done so anyway even if just for honouring the fact that there was at least [i]some[/i] activity that didn't involve eating those innocent beings. Okay, and he had needed at least some thrill, too! And he did remember than the reason they had come here was not to endulge themselves, but to avert a potential disaster. The actual race track was a bit less crowded than the humongously large banquet and it also was a bit out of the Master of Mockery's range so people's ears just had to be less saturated and more open for his own words. The more widespread the probably false belief that loud talking would make the tiims'archa nervous and less performant was, the better! Noticing something out of the ordinary here, from an elevated position on the stands, was just more feasible. About half an hour after the probably least flamboyant of all racing starts he had ever witnessed, Otios could see the bright red snail of his chosing tugging along nicely. It was not the first one, but clearly in the leading part of the overall field which was now approaching the first water section. He felt ready to cheer just like the rest of the crowd, but as the huge Yasoi readied his arms to do so he noticed something thought to have been left behind in the small room he had rented: one of the wires was still in his pocket. An idea flashed through his mind: water! He had to get closer to it... to the outer edge of the other stand that had been placed a mere couple of feet away from the pond! Many other spectators had the same idea at the same time, but simply because they wanted to stay as close to the 'racing' snails as possible. Otios had to dig his way through the crowd employing his size advantage shamelessly enough to trigger some serious complaints, but he could hardly care less about those few anonymous bystanders right now for he felt thrilled about his own mental concoction. There, at the very corner of the stand and almost in danger of accidentally being pushed off it and falling onto the track, he was delighted to see that around the water was just plenty of grass, stones and even mushrooms. A lot of stuff to conceal the nasty little connection he'd now establish between his hand and the pond the tiims'archa were headed for. It merely took one sudden move of his hand which he had retracted back into his sleeve to give the small loop of wire enough momentum to start unfolding and rolling along until its end submerged into the water. He knew the ground connection here, on the stand an in his boots, was anything but good, but for what little stimulus he intended to apply hardly anything better was really needed. Now he only had to wait until the red snail was out of the water and the rest still in. The big question was however: Would his gentle 'stimulus' work as intended and slow down the competitors or at least disorient them so they'd no longer go the straight route, but try to get out of the discomfort zone sideways first ? Or would it make them actually creep along faster ? And, depending on what would happen, would then anybody notice that something was just a bit too odd and become suspicious ? There always was a way of making things more interesting!