Never far from home

Travelling Merchant
Never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.

A rustle sounds past the redhead. All of a sudden a tall man has appeared not far behind her in the somewhat busy street. He is dressed in grey robes and has what seems like an elegant walking stick in his hand to lean on. By all means he looks old, yet underneath his grey hat that casts a shadow over most of his face are two bright glimmering eyes. The eyes are focused on the young woman. They look kind, but also like they hold all the wisdom in the world. The man strikes his long grey beard once, and once again. It seems as if he is thinking about something.

"Yes, you are worthy." Is eventually decided. His free hand disappears into his pockets and out comes a small pouch. He takes a step towards the lady and gently presses the pouch in her hand. "Aster's light shines upon you child, and now it may never go out." With all the attention now on the pouch, his hand leaves that of the woman.

Possibly confused by the sudden mention of home, you forget he is there. When you look up however, the old man has disappeared into thin air. All that is left is the pouch which holds something small enough to fit into your hand.

You have been granted a pocket Aster statue. The dragon chooses who is worthy enough to make a small flame appear in its mouth when the statue is rubbed three times. Will you take it or leave it?

& Cassandra Mercier

Cassandra was used to eyes being drawn to her once. Back home, people recognized her for her title and family. Here in Odiria, she blended with the crowd save for her fiery colour of hair. Feeling a stare was somewhat uncomfortable here. It made her wonder what the stranger found so curious about her.

When she turned, the feeling disappeared. The man's eyes seemed youthful in comparison to the rest of his appearance, hiding a spark that had her interested in his story. Yet, before she could ask anything, he said something about her being worthy, before pressing a pouch into her hand. Taken aback, she took it without thinking.

The sudden gesture was enough to confuse her, but while she looked at the pouch in her hands, the man spoke again. It took her a moment to register the words because she had not expected to hear anything like them out here. Odiria knew no Aster, yet this man had blessed her the way a dragonpriest would have.

After the weight of those words had landed, Cassandra looked up hastily, blinking in bewilderment when there was no one there anymore. No man with wise eyes and grey attire. Just the people on the streets, going about their day. "Thank you," she said to no one, her words sounding half like a question. But the proof of what happened was in her hands.

Curiosity urged her to open the pouch, revealing a small dragon statue—no, an Aster statue in particular. A pang of homesickness shot through her, which made her smile softly. Cassandra looked around one more time before putting the unexpected gift back in the pouch and hurrying back to the inn to seek out her friends.

They will be expecting a breeze, show them you're a hurricane