[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
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[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] Old Aimlenn Backstreets 
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] Sergio [@VahkiDane]
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[i]Neither did I, but here we both are.[/i] [color=orange]"Sure, just looking out for a fellow, is all. Though really, I'm kinda disappointed! Thought you may be a 'I'm secretly the heir to the throne and I'm hiding from assassins' or something exciting like that. Now come on, we're late already."[/color]

	The route that Lein led Sergio on was not so much a coherent route as it was a collection of twists and hidden corners. Occasionally Though the pair started off on the well-trodden cobblestone streets, with a couple turns between the alleyways of the pair soon began to tread into dirt roads that had clearly not weathered time gracefully. Though the whole journey didn't take long, with the number of times Lein simply dodged into a place betwixt crates of merchandise and continue down what was supposedly a walk-through. 

	Lein didn't afford the courtesy to slow down for Sergio as he navigated the passageways, even as the trickle of passerby became choking torrents. The Hundi runt, disappearing frequently in crowds due to his tiny height, knew the way from the sight of the old roofs alone. If his temporary charge couldn't keep up? Eh, Sergio looked like he could use a night or two outside.

	Signs that enthusiastically informed of new wares were soon replaced with scrawled symbols, rusting off their hinges, before being entirely abandoned in favor of the shopkeepers arresting attention with whistles and shouts. The bleached walls of the main streets similarly gave way to patches of yellow and black mold, many times exposing the skeletal weave of wattle below the mud wall. Some wounds were crammed with sacks, others simply covered with a panel and little else.

	Like a forest canopy these buildings had several levels stacked up on top of each other, with each subsequent roof being larger than the one below. They loomed over the passageways, creaking with strain yet somehow finding sturdiness enough to not come crashing down, making each passerby perform the remarkable feat of bravery of simply ignoring the possibility. 

	Lein had taken to a quick fondness to this place, finding a sort of comfort in the chaotic rabble of architecture and humanity. As ill-taken as it were, Lein had seen places twisted with vitriol and at the very least, this was not yet one of them. It was more a consequence of neglect: a collective forgetting as new buildings bloomed outward and left the old to accumulate grime and mold. The air was filled with the overwhelming smell of lavender pushing down the algae that had been ill-drained and gathered in brackish puddles, but the metallic smell of blood was absent. 

	As chaotic and crowded as the streets became, there was a notable accumulation of glances toward the Knight and the Hundi guide. Lein was used to the attention - it was a ways off from Ithillin, and he had long since given up to the fact that the mischievous street urchin would hop up behind the Hundi and tug at his tail. He'd just trust that the stares were of idleness rather than scorn. It would be less clear for Sergio, however, with his coat and general cleanliness (apart from where Lein had kindly slapped dirt over) being distinctly fine and well-made compared to the coarse yellow-green tunics. The folk here never bothered to discern the fine looks of the Knights that dwelt in the castle, and neither the Knights towards them. As far as they were concerned, the towering walls and occasional guard was sign enough of their presence.

	As they continued deeper and deeper, wooden box firmly in tow, Lein produced an apple from his stash (read: absconded from an inattentive shopkeep) and kept it juggling across his prosthetic hand as he pushed along. [color=orange]"Nearly there~"[/color] Lein said, glancing back and clearly enjoying himself.