"Are you sure we shouldn't head back?" She questioned as another teenager pulled her along. Violet had turned her head to look behind them in the middle of speaking. She was clearly getting cold feet at the idea of getting near a living city, let alone on one. This was her first time traveling, and already she was full of regrets. Violet had only arrived on Parvpora a week ago, and the friends she had journeyed with had talked her into this horrible idea the moment that had seen Hoja Mesto in the distance. The journey to Tarishitar via airship had been uneventful, though Violet discovered that she was particularly seasick. But now that they had landed, her friends pulled her this way and that to newer and more dangerous adventures. In the distance, the living city sat, nestled neatly in a valley where the heads were below the ground level that the three human teenagers were running on. "Hurry UP, Vi! If we miss this because of you. Well, I- I shan't ever forgive you as long as we both shall live!" The cruel words stung deep, making Violet's heart skip a beat, and eyes tear up. Clenching her teeth, she continued to run as fast as her legs would carry her, which would not be much further.

Just as they were reaching the outskirts something terrible happened. Just as half of the teenagers, four in all, stepped foot upon the road of Hoja Mesto, it began to shift. The large scale of such a city meant that it swayed violently according to the people upon it and began to walk forward. "Lucy! Violet! Daniel!" One of the boys cried out as he held his hand for one of them to take. "It's now or never!" The city began to move on its own way, to the accord of someone Violet did not know, but she knew if she did not jump, she was doomed to scrutiny in Mamlak for the rest of her natural life.

Pushing with all of her might, Violet's heart skipped a beat as she tumbled head over feet onto the streets of Hoja Mesto. When her body did skid to a stop, she looked up at her soundings. She had landed on her shoulder and side, the thick white cotton dress had become tattered on the stone roads she made contact with. It was difficult to orientate herself, but she managed to stand and begin to dust herself off. Looking at the small cluster of people just a ways away, she made an embolden decision in the moment. Violet had never liked how Rebecca had bossed her around, now she liked it even less with Thomas influencing her. No. This would not do.

Turning tail before anyone turned their attention towards her, Violet ran. She was aware that it was cowardly, it was even foolish, but she had to do something. Shaking with her new sense of independence, Violet ran from one street to the next, turning herself around, choosing back alleys and almost running face first into a small water way. "Whoa!" She cried with a sudden surprise, just barely catching herself before falling in. Standing and looking around, she was breathing heavily from running to and fro so quickly.

It was only at this point that the garden caught her eye. It was simply marvelous. The grand vegetation was more than she could bear for the moment; overcome with the immense beauty, Violet strolled forward and looked at the large assortment of plants. Ever so gently she reached out to a nearby flower, running her fingertips over the delicate bloom. At the contact, regardless of how slight, the petals turned inward and the flower turned into a bud again before shrinking further into itself.

Violet flushed at the reaction of the plant, she had not intended to harm such a thing, but she was unaware of what she was doing. For all she knew it could be full of toxins and she would now slowly wither away. "A Witch Pepper!" Violet exclaimed as she dropped to her knees and gathered up the fruit into her pocket. "Oh my! A mandrake!" Pulling the root from the soil produced a scream unlike anything Violet had heard before. Most of her spices, roots, and other ingredients for potions typically came already processed and dried. Dropping the Mandrake, she pressed her hands tightly against her ears, but even that proved futile as she fell to her side in the dirt. Closing her eyes, she began to groan in pain at the sound. All she wanted was for it to stop.

(OoC- While this topic is certainly open, you are free to contact me first about this thread if you are interested. Not a requirement, though.)

Hoja-Mesto was one of Jago’s favourite places, the culture, the colour the noise all screamed out to him. There were a hundreds of races sheltering in this great walking city; which made blending in much easier. Not that Jago had any trouble in that regard, he was a Halfling; and that meant that he could pass by almost anyone un-noticed. Today he walked through the town leaning on his wooden staff, it was clearly a mages staff only this one seemed to have been designed with a child in mind. Jago was three feet and six inches tall, a fairly average sized Halfling in anyone’s book. Today, he wore his deep blue wizard’s hat, which pushed him past the four feet mark. 

The Halfling crossed into the garden he’d been frequenting for his afternoon tea. He sat himself down comfortably in the shade of an old tree and set out his stall. A simple bundle of sandwiches, pies, various pickles, cured meats, cheese, crackers, cakes, biscuits, fruit and a flagon of cider to wash it all down. Jago pulled out the book he was reading, an old spell book and set about his picnic. Half way through eating a particularly nice egg custard tart a high pitched, deafening squeal caused him to jump straight to his feet. His hat fell over his eyes and his tart was thrown into the nearest bush. 

Jago knew the scream of the mandrake, quickly he ran towards the noise. His staff raised high as he rushed through the plants. As he arrived he saw the mandrakes victim, a young girl. Without another moment passing he shot a blast of energy from his staff and the plant creature fell silent. Jago moved over to the girl and nudged her with the end of his staff. “Uncover your ears you foolish girl.” Jago said, rather rudely. As far as he was concerned this child had run into this garden, and ruined his peace. She could have died, or caused a similar fate for everyone else in the area. “That was a mandrake.” He informed her. “You are lucky to be alive, if I’d not have been here you could have died.”  

Laying on her side in the dirt, Violet arched her back in agony as the screech of the mandrake engulfed her very being. Gashing her teeth, Violet could feel the blood welling up in her ears, and just as she felt the blood vessels in her body expand– it was over. Deep breathes followed as she attempted to compose herself, though she kept her hands firmly over her ears. When the end of the staff came in contact with the back of her shoulder, blue eyes opened and she slowly lowered her hands from her ears. There was a small spot of blood on both palms, showing just how close she had been to death when she was rescued. Fishing for a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped the blood away from her hands and ears before mopping up the sweat on her forehead. "Thank you." She said in between gasps of air. "I am aware of what I had uprooted, but I did not know what it would do."

She spoke as she searched for the root, and when she found it laying silently on the ground, she stuffed it into her bag with the Witch Pepper. "I am most grateful you came to my rescue…" She rose into a standing position and gave a small curtsy. "My name is Miss Violet Mentis. Apothecary. Are you from this city?" She questioned him before even knowing his name, which was rude in its own right, especially for someone that had just been delivered from the hands of death. Looking around at the garden, she thought better of collecting any other ingredients for the time being.

Gently their surroundings swayed as the city continued walking through the valley. For a bit it had caused her to feel seasick, but now Violet was getting better at the motion as if they were on the rolling seas during the calm before the storm. "Forgive me." She said with caution, "Is there a tavern or stall where I can sit and regain my composure? I am starting to feel a bit hungry and fear I might faint." It was an innocent question considering what had just happened to her, but mostly she wished to get away from the cluster of mandrake roots near by.

“If you didn’t know what it would do, you have no business prodding at it.” Jago shook his head, and half turned to leave when his moss coloured eyes noticed the bloodied handkerchief. Jago was not unkind, he just didn’t like his meals being interrupted. Now that he had noted her injuries he felt obliged to help her out. Besides, the surrounding city had gone back to normal now, no one else was going to pay her any attention should she slip of into a deep sleep. Healing magic wasn’t his strongest, but he was capable of it. 

As she put away the dead root, she curtseyed and gave her name. Jago couldn’t help but feel a little small beside her, but it was a feeling he was well used to. In response he took of his hat, revealing a mop of dark hair. He bowed his head slightly, “I am Jago Fleetfoot.” Now that she stood up, Jago thought she looked pale, and a little unsteady. 

“Here, come here. This way.” Jago lead her back through the bushes he had run through a few moments before. There lay his picnic, far more food than a human party of six could manage. He closed his book and kicked it into his bag. “Please sit and eat.” Jago found his seat once more. From inside his bag he produced another glass, he filled this with cider and offered it to her. “Now why is someone as young as you running around the city alone?” He asked, taking a sip of his own cider as soon as he finished. 

When Jago snapped at her ignorance, Violet's brows pushed together and down on her eyes. While he was correct, she could not very well admit defeat. With a frown, she decided it best not to argue his point. He had made it and that was all the more needed. Next time she saw a mandrake root she would be sure to kill it before pulling it from the soil. As she wiped herself clean, she noticed that her nice dress was now covered in dirt. What a splendid day this was turning out to be for her. After standing and introducing herself, she began to use the palm of her hand to slap away most of the dust and dirt that now clung to her dress. She righted herself just as he introduced himself. It was not that uncommon of a name all things considering in this land, but it was enough that she grinned foolishly at him.

He was about a head or more shorter than she was, and she was short by human standards. He began guiding her through some bushes, and though her dress protested the journey, she was able to come out of the other side perfectly well enough. In many ways he already reminded Violet of her father's father. When she finally spotted all of the food spread out on the ground she could not force away the grumbling in her stomach. She took the offer to sit, but tried to remain distant from the food before Jago returned to his meal. Smiling, Violet took the offered glass of cider and began to sniff at the contents. It did not smell like poison, but she knew that a few were colorless and odorless. Blue eyes looked at the shorter man before she cautiously sipped at the contents of the cup.

Flushing visibly at the question directed at her lone nature and in a city like Hoja Mesto, Violet took a longer drink of cider this time to think of a better response than a possible shrug. "Well." She began as she continued to think. "I have a group of friends in the city… somewhere. We all came together, but." She stopped short as she picked up a sandwich near her, "They are too adventurous for my tastes. We ran to catch the city and they were hoping to catch a fighting show or something more exotic. I am from Mamlak. I do not like fights…" She said the last part with a lowered voice as if it was a great secret. Hoja Mesto was known for its blend of exotic tastes and cultures, some of which Violet could hardly stomach given the choice.

"What about you? Do you live here?" She said the phrase as if it were unheard of her to. In her own way, Violet could not imagine living in such a lively and colorful setting, the constant swaying was still getting to her. Taking a bite of her sandwich she chewed thoughtfully as she listened to the answers.

She was grinning inanely at his name. It wasn’t that uncommon a name, especially for a Halfling. Jago supposed there wasn’t many of his kind around here. He contemplated giving her a little jolt with his staff, but decided against it. As they sat, he offered her the cider and she sniffed it. The urge to blast her grew stronger, but she sipped it nevertheless. Halflings are very proud cooks, turning up ones nose at a Halfling meal is like dropping your trousers to an elf. You are looking for trouble. 

“True friends do not abandon each other Violet, your friends should be out looking for you not watching that rubbish.” As he spoke Jago fished around in his bag again to find his pipe, he loaded it with tobacco and lit it with a click of his fingers. (Being a wizard made life a lot easier.) Jago took a long drag on his pipe, and exhaled a blue purple cloud of smoke. The smoke gathered together into the shape of a dove, the dove flapped its wings and perched itself in the tree they sat against. 

“I do not live here, but I have been staying here a little while now.” He considered whether he should say more, but what could this child do to harm the Red Wizard? “I have a house in the forest. It is quite beautiful.” Fondly Jago pictured his house, it was built under a hill, nothing but a highly painted red front door gave away that there was anything but a hill there. Jago had slowly started to fill it with magical artefacts and gold, as was his plan.

“Do you have a job, or do your parents let you run wild for free?” Jago asked, although the mild annoyance in his voice was starting to disappear now. 

Violet had not met many Halflings in her life; in fact she hardly journeyed out of her city at all. It was difficult to move from Mamlak to other parts of Canelux, especially due to the inhabitants being accustomed to a certain type of weather.  The most cultural exposure she received commonly involved traveling merchants entering her city to sell exotic items and ingredients before moving on to Arri. She did not turn down a good meal, but instead cautiously ate with enough time. It was all delicious, she just could not help being wary of being poisoned or worse. This was all mostly foreign food to her.
 
His lecture on her friends did make Violet blush though. The red hue traveled from her cheeks all the way to her ears and down her neck. He was correct, she knew that much, certainly, but she was also a teenager with teenage friends. She knew they had originally attempted to look for her, but only temporarily before they grew bored and moved on to other activities. Likely by this point they were long into watching the fights. She imagined it for a moment, closed her eyes, and shook her head softly, before taking another long drag of the cider. Deep down she knew they were not really her friends but she could not just say such things. She had to pretend like all teenagers, pretend to have friends, pretend to be popular, pretend everything was okay so that she would not turn into a social outcast.
 
She opened her blue eyes and watched him light his pipe; while Violet had some magic to her, she was no mage, and the simple actions for him were wondrous to her. She watched the smoke do tricks as it turned shapes and sat on a branch. It was all too amazing to handle and she could feel excitement bubbling up within her once more. Turning the conversation back on Jago, Violet smiled as he explained that his house was far from this wondrous city. Such a pity, she had hoped to discover a native of the city, she could only imagine what kind of creatures would truly live in a moving city of all things. It was so bright and colorful, full of exotic things, who would ever want to stay here longer than a vacation?
 
His next question caught her in the midst of another bite of food. Chewing thoughtfully, her shoulders slumped slightly at the nerve of such a question. “My mother does not like my job. She wants me to marry and be a good little house wife. So I do not run around for free, I make potions, I heal people. Officially I own an apothecary shoppe, my mother is a dress maker, along with my sisters, my brothers and father are guards. My father is in the King’s guard.” She paused to chew another bite of sandwich before offering her own bought of questioning. “What about you? Do you have a job? What does a… wizard do for money… exactly?” She ate the last of her food as her blue eyes lingered on his wizard’s cap. It was red, she very much liked the color, it suited him well enough, but she rarely ever met wizards, let alone had the chance to ask them questions about what they did and what-not.