On a typical evening in the City of Truce, the streets have started to (but not completely) thin out a bit, as most folks reach their destinations for the evening and settle in until the morrow. Only a few merchants and idlers remain, and occasional passersby from out of town.

On this particular evening, one such cloaked passerby has arrived from a southern avenue, tugging their cloak a bit close with an aside glance at nothing in particular, as if offhandedly looking for something.

Brek briefly looks over to the cloaked figure before digging his left hand into his hip, scratching at what was most certainly the site of his most recent flea bite.

From the north, the sound of boots scuffing against the ground carries in another stranger. Gforte keeps to himself, silent as he watches the stragglers in the night. One in particular draws his attention, the cloaked figure practically screaming for all they were trying to be unnoticed.

Arriving from the docks, certainly via one of the large vessels always coming and going, Rosetta approached the center of Truce. Inching over the fountain to take a sip from it. Looking around the area and noticing some of the faces that stand off from the usual crowd.

This cloaked figure engages one of the nearby merchants and asks about something in a hushed tone, but given that the merchant is only interested in a deal and not giving away information for free, only a shake of the head is given in response, to which the cloaked person nods understandingly, pulling on the hood just a little.

The person seems to sigh, and makes an offhand comment, sounding fairly young, and the tone of voice makes it hard to discern whether it be male or female. "Typical."

Wolves quietly backs out of the fountain and edges away a bit to get a better view of the whole square.

Wolves is leaning up against a building just on the southeast edge of the square, eyes alert.

Gforte watches the exchange, his eye flicking to the other people in the area as well. The pink hair draws his attention before the moving reploid, but his gaze keeps returning to the cloaked one. Folding his arms across his chest, he leans against an old wall, waiting to see who makes the first move. Someone always did, here.

Rosetta moves off from the proximity of the fountain, closer to the mysterious cloaked person. Opening a tome of some sort to read it as an excuse to try to eavesdrop on their words.

Sitting where the dust and dirt collect between the wall and floor, Brek seems lost in thought until--suddenly--he picks his nose and upon inspecting the yield extracted, eats it.

Wolves sees Brek do that and shivers in disgust.

A warm wind carries on through the square, and the person glances upward as it passes along, silently. It doesn't take them too long to realize that not everyone here is going as much as they are coming, however, and another aside glance is held as they take in the local presences that have seemingly decided to set up temporary shop, albeit wordlessly.

Taking an incentive of some kind, this cloaked person makes their way to one of the more prominent benches around the fountain, and finds a seat for themselves, hands folded in the confines of their lap, head slightly bowed.

With the silence continuing, she finally closes the book with a thud. Which causes the musty pages to create a small cloud of dust and provoke coughing. Waving it off, Rosetta tentatively sits on the opposite side of the bench and risks saying to the cloaked person, with a soft tone of voice, "Good evening."

A thieving palico lazily eyes the crowd for potential coinpurses that weigh a little too heavily on the belts.  After some cautious reflection, he opts to head to docks in search of less vigilant tipsy sailors.

A small grin tugs at Gforte's lips as one of them takes the plunge. It made sense, the girl seemed the most put together. He draws a small leather bound book from one of his pockets and examines the page. He had things to do, but this meeting held promise. He could push things off for a bit to make sure it went well.

The silhouette of something jumping across the docks to the east can be seen. Splashing the water a few times as a fish is captured within the vaporeon's mouth. A blue dog of some sort idly munching on the newest catch.

The figure goes to look at Rosetta as they are spoken to, but stops just short of looking directly toward her, instead ending somewhere at her legs and feet. "It is. You seem well, are you from around here?"  The accent is... a little different.  Not exceptionally so, but still carries a trace of uniqueness to it.

"Well enough, I suppose. No I am not originally from around here. And yourself? I could not help but eavesdrop a little. Pardon me, but do you need help with something?" Rosetta asked, nursing the old book at her lap while sitting.

The person hesitates, as if considering the pros and cons of whatever response they might offer. Their gaze returns down to their own lap, their hands noticeably fidgeting a bit. "Kinda.  I'm.. lookin' for someone. But I don't know why they'd be here."

The cloaked figure seems to catch themselves over something, notably freezing in place right after the words come out.

Gently nods while listening to the reluctant words. Tilting her head, Rosetta replies. "You never know with this city. I have seen many a strange faces around Truce." If she is able to notice the sudden reaction, she decides to give the mysterious person some privacy and moment before speaking further.

The soft 'tmp' of Gforte's journal closing is the most noise he's made besides his boots. Looking up to the pair, he mentally figures how likely it is he might know who they're after, but it's been so long since he was around. Still, Jill would probably be happy if he tried.

The fluttering notes of conversation slalom between the fountain's gurgling as they reach Brek's ears. He loved to fall asleep here, listening to the whistling water tumble out of the spout with tiny, bubbly applause. 

Stepping forwards, the journal disappears back into Gforte's pocket as he speaks up finally. "Who are you looking for anyways? Generally good to start with that."

Wolves slowly edges away from the building and approaches Brek with a wry grin his their face.

"There..." A slight pause as Gforte steps forward, but the figure doesn't change the direction he's facing, still fixated (apparently) on Rosetta's legs.  "There are a number of stories that begin here at this fountain, from what I know."

The figure's head lowers a little further, the edges of their hood fluttering loosely.  "I do not know if I should talk about it so openly. Trust is.. a hard thing to build from scratch."

There is a faint green flicker of light from behind the bench the two are seated on, but it is super brief and gone in an instant.

Rosetta offers a polite nod to the man as he joins the conversation and the efforts to get the mysterious person to elaborate on whom they are looking for. Adding, "Most people are probably too preoccupied to pay too much attention, but perhaps if it's better, we could speak more openly at the inn?"

Gforte would have shot back with something snarky in the past, but instead the girl's suggestion does a much better job. Getting people comfortable did a lot to build trust, after all. He takes a step back, both giving the pair some room and wordlessly removing any obstruction he might pose to the inn. There is a moment taken to rub his eye though. Flashing lights was a new symptom.

Again, the murmur of harmonious breaths flits through the air and lands like a soft kiss upon Brek. Although he could not understand the words, he knew he liked how they sounded.

The cloaked person finally looks up from Rosetta's feet, but stops about halfway up, looking discerningly for something about Rosetta through the dark interior of their hood, but upon not finding it, they instead stand up entirely. "Not yet. But it is okay.. hiding is important, sometimes.  I see that you know it as well as I do."  Their tone is more than a little ominous, and definitely leans a little more to the 'male' side of things.

"I need to leave for now." The figure glances elsewhere about the plaza, then back at Rosetta.  "I feel as though we will meet again. I will stop short of promising, though."

She blinks a few times and adjusts the collar of the blue coat upon hearing those words. Even casting a glance left and right. Hugging the old book against her chest, growing somewhat uncomfortable. Its cover barely hidden, and the glimpse of the title, "An Elemental Prophecy" to be seen. Rosetta speaks in turn, "Ahem... perhaps we will meet again. I wish you luck in your search."

The person gestures in something of a wave, and promptly goes to leave back in a southern fashion, a bit of good pace in their steps. Notably, there is a super-brief glance up toward Gforte on their way past, but definitely not in any poignant way.

Gforte almost can't help it this time, but he manages to bite back the snark. He looks after the cloaked figure, before blowing out a breath. "Well, that was fucking mysterious." Part of him wanted to chase, but something told him he wouldn't make it too far. And that might actually spook them off. With that in his mind, he returns his gaze to his journal and clicks his tongue.

Gforte says 'Might have to push a few more things off.'

Rosetta begins to move to stand, agreeing with Gforte by way of a small sigh, and the words, "Don't we all have our own mysteries to deal with? Only time will tell if that person will open up more or not."