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Leaving the newly acquired invalid he had reluctantly holed up in his house now, Kreios had done all he could in patching the main wound at the base of the pirate's spine, wrapping it with a salve he knew would serve to stop bleeding, before securing the pirate by tying his hands and feet to the bed that used to be his - which he would no longer be using, it seems. Why he was doing this remains to be seen, but whatever it was, Lukos of Meganea now owed him a huge favor. At least to him.
Secure in the knowledge that, even if he woke up (which he was unlikely to, since the concoction Kreios had forced down his throat the moment he returned would've knocked him out, if the pain from his fiasco had not), he would not be able to thrash about and further undo any work Kreios had done to try and patch him up, the male had eventually, as the sun rose, headed out to the bustling market of the Vasiliadon port, just setting up for a day of business.
He was not a man who frequented the markets often. Kreios preferred to keep to himself, and only kept the hired help of those he really trusted. As a man who valued his privacy, he did not enjoy others traipsing about his area, and despite the vast amounts of wealth he's earned after many years of high profile clients, he still remained within the small hovel he called a home. Not that it mattered, since he was barely home... but what he needed, was a tender to his growing forest.
It had always been a dream of the merchant to cultivate as many rare herbal plants, poisonous and non-poisonous alike within his garden. And of late, with the upgrades he's bought for the Azazel, the collection has grown. He would happily tend to his garden of course, but with the new invalid he now, sadly, had to ensure did not die on his watch, Kreios was beginning to realize he was running out of help, and needed someone who at least could figure out the heads and tails of plants without killing them, to do menial tasks of ensuring his plants stayed alive.
So the man sought out the only slave trader he's ever worked with, and pulled out a sack of gold coins the moment he saw the wizened old man. "A slave who has an affinity for plants. Do you have any?" he immediately asked. The man knew Kreios, a client who came to him often, and was quick to swipe up the bag of gold with his greedy fingers, before a buttery smooth smile lit up his face as he eagerly pandered to Kreios's wishes, leading him in.
"A new shipment, take your pick, Master Kreios."
It was a velveteen sweet voice obvisouly meant to kiss up to the merchant, but the dark obsidian gaze barely flickered. Instead of responding to the pandering, it was obvious Kreios had jumped straight to work instead, observing the newly arrived slaves for sale, before asking in a loud voice enough that everyone could hear. "Who here can tell me the properties and uses of henbane from Judea, and what would happen if one used the essence of a mandrake plant on a human?"
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Leaving the newly acquired invalid he had reluctantly holed up in his house now, Kreios had done all he could in patching the main wound at the base of the pirate's spine, wrapping it with a salve he knew would serve to stop bleeding, before securing the pirate by tying his hands and feet to the bed that used to be his - which he would no longer be using, it seems. Why he was doing this remains to be seen, but whatever it was, Lukos of Meganea now owed him a huge favor. At least to him.
Secure in the knowledge that, even if he woke up (which he was unlikely to, since the concoction Kreios had forced down his throat the moment he returned would've knocked him out, if the pain from his fiasco had not), he would not be able to thrash about and further undo any work Kreios had done to try and patch him up, the male had eventually, as the sun rose, headed out to the bustling market of the Vasiliadon port, just setting up for a day of business.
He was not a man who frequented the markets often. Kreios preferred to keep to himself, and only kept the hired help of those he really trusted. As a man who valued his privacy, he did not enjoy others traipsing about his area, and despite the vast amounts of wealth he's earned after many years of high profile clients, he still remained within the small hovel he called a home. Not that it mattered, since he was barely home... but what he needed, was a tender to his growing forest.
It had always been a dream of the merchant to cultivate as many rare herbal plants, poisonous and non-poisonous alike within his garden. And of late, with the upgrades he's bought for the Azazel, the collection has grown. He would happily tend to his garden of course, but with the new invalid he now, sadly, had to ensure did not die on his watch, Kreios was beginning to realize he was running out of help, and needed someone who at least could figure out the heads and tails of plants without killing them, to do menial tasks of ensuring his plants stayed alive.
So the man sought out the only slave trader he's ever worked with, and pulled out a sack of gold coins the moment he saw the wizened old man. "A slave who has an affinity for plants. Do you have any?" he immediately asked. The man knew Kreios, a client who came to him often, and was quick to swipe up the bag of gold with his greedy fingers, before a buttery smooth smile lit up his face as he eagerly pandered to Kreios's wishes, leading him in.
"A new shipment, take your pick, Master Kreios."
It was a velveteen sweet voice obvisouly meant to kiss up to the merchant, but the dark obsidian gaze barely flickered. Instead of responding to the pandering, it was obvious Kreios had jumped straight to work instead, observing the newly arrived slaves for sale, before asking in a loud voice enough that everyone could hear. "Who here can tell me the properties and uses of henbane from Judea, and what would happen if one used the essence of a mandrake plant on a human?"
Leaving the newly acquired invalid he had reluctantly holed up in his house now, Kreios had done all he could in patching the main wound at the base of the pirate's spine, wrapping it with a salve he knew would serve to stop bleeding, before securing the pirate by tying his hands and feet to the bed that used to be his - which he would no longer be using, it seems. Why he was doing this remains to be seen, but whatever it was, Lukos of Meganea now owed him a huge favor. At least to him.
Secure in the knowledge that, even if he woke up (which he was unlikely to, since the concoction Kreios had forced down his throat the moment he returned would've knocked him out, if the pain from his fiasco had not), he would not be able to thrash about and further undo any work Kreios had done to try and patch him up, the male had eventually, as the sun rose, headed out to the bustling market of the Vasiliadon port, just setting up for a day of business.
He was not a man who frequented the markets often. Kreios preferred to keep to himself, and only kept the hired help of those he really trusted. As a man who valued his privacy, he did not enjoy others traipsing about his area, and despite the vast amounts of wealth he's earned after many years of high profile clients, he still remained within the small hovel he called a home. Not that it mattered, since he was barely home... but what he needed, was a tender to his growing forest.
It had always been a dream of the merchant to cultivate as many rare herbal plants, poisonous and non-poisonous alike within his garden. And of late, with the upgrades he's bought for the Azazel, the collection has grown. He would happily tend to his garden of course, but with the new invalid he now, sadly, had to ensure did not die on his watch, Kreios was beginning to realize he was running out of help, and needed someone who at least could figure out the heads and tails of plants without killing them, to do menial tasks of ensuring his plants stayed alive.
So the man sought out the only slave trader he's ever worked with, and pulled out a sack of gold coins the moment he saw the wizened old man. "A slave who has an affinity for plants. Do you have any?" he immediately asked. The man knew Kreios, a client who came to him often, and was quick to swipe up the bag of gold with his greedy fingers, before a buttery smooth smile lit up his face as he eagerly pandered to Kreios's wishes, leading him in.
"A new shipment, take your pick, Master Kreios."
It was a velveteen sweet voice obvisouly meant to kiss up to the merchant, but the dark obsidian gaze barely flickered. Instead of responding to the pandering, it was obvious Kreios had jumped straight to work instead, observing the newly arrived slaves for sale, before asking in a loud voice enough that everyone could hear. "Who here can tell me the properties and uses of henbane from Judea, and what would happen if one used the essence of a mandrake plant on a human?"
Alto had become good at blending during his time in the slave trade. He’d settled himself in the back, tucked away against the far wall behind a few of the ‘new meat’, shackled slaves that had yet to learn the proper way of responding to their slavers and masters. Alto had always been well behaved. He knew when to say yes sir, when to bow, when to grovel. Knew not to meet their eyes or challenge their dominance. His height had made it difficult to adapt at first but he’d been here enough times to know the ins and outs of slave body-language, what was acceptable and what wasn’t, and he was one of few left with his hands unbound and his own clothes still clean and intact.
He leaned, hunched over, against the cool stone, one hand in his pocket as his small Jerboa Khepri grabbed affectionately at his fingers, wiggling excitedly at finally having a chance to get his attention after a long and tiring journey. Alto was still surprised he’d managed to keep her for so long, almost a year had gone by and two masters who’d made no comment of his ‘pet’. He appreciated it most definitely but he often feared the day an incident with an angry slaver, slave or master would see her harmed.
He took notice of a tall, handsome man approaching his new slaver, dark hair, dark eyes and a wandering gaze that was as analytical as it was cold. He’d clearly been here before, or at least done the rounds of slavery. Handing the slaver a bag of gold and practically dismissing him to search the faces for a useful slave Alto couldn’t decided if his attitude was sexy or concerning. Alto kept his head down regardless. At this stage he could really take or pass on another master, at least in the slave ring all he had to do was present himself neatly and not get in trouble, and from the looks of this man he was obviously in need of a grunt. Alto resented grunt-work.
The strangers voice had a strong air of authority, the kind of ‘no question confidence’ that often made for strict masters, but his question to the group took Alto by surprise. He’d been passed around plenty by this point but he’d never known a master looking for a slave with experience with plants. It was almost laughable, but Alto had always loved a challenge. He stood straight, Khepri still rolling around in his palm.
“That’s rather a broad-answer question, isn’t it?” Alto said, noting the tone of unintended arrogance that bled through. “Both can be used as aesthetics or sleep aids.” he continued quickly. “It really depends on how much you use, how it’s prepared, the quality of the plant, how it is cultivated. You can use crushed henbane to numb skin, or treat a toothache. Mandragora is useful for a stomach ache or a cough, if prepared properly, but either can be brewed into poison or a hallucinogenic concoction.” Alto’s mouth formed a stern line but he made sure to avoid eye-contact, stepping forward so that the stranger wouldn’t need to speak as loudly.
He bowed short and polite before righting himself. This was the part that always confused him, sometimes masters liked you to introduce yourself professionally, other times your identity was of no concern. Alto chose not to say anything else, he’d already been a bit abrupt but he hoped he’d said enough at least to warrant some approval of his knowledge.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Alto had become good at blending during his time in the slave trade. He’d settled himself in the back, tucked away against the far wall behind a few of the ‘new meat’, shackled slaves that had yet to learn the proper way of responding to their slavers and masters. Alto had always been well behaved. He knew when to say yes sir, when to bow, when to grovel. Knew not to meet their eyes or challenge their dominance. His height had made it difficult to adapt at first but he’d been here enough times to know the ins and outs of slave body-language, what was acceptable and what wasn’t, and he was one of few left with his hands unbound and his own clothes still clean and intact.
He leaned, hunched over, against the cool stone, one hand in his pocket as his small Jerboa Khepri grabbed affectionately at his fingers, wiggling excitedly at finally having a chance to get his attention after a long and tiring journey. Alto was still surprised he’d managed to keep her for so long, almost a year had gone by and two masters who’d made no comment of his ‘pet’. He appreciated it most definitely but he often feared the day an incident with an angry slaver, slave or master would see her harmed.
He took notice of a tall, handsome man approaching his new slaver, dark hair, dark eyes and a wandering gaze that was as analytical as it was cold. He’d clearly been here before, or at least done the rounds of slavery. Handing the slaver a bag of gold and practically dismissing him to search the faces for a useful slave Alto couldn’t decided if his attitude was sexy or concerning. Alto kept his head down regardless. At this stage he could really take or pass on another master, at least in the slave ring all he had to do was present himself neatly and not get in trouble, and from the looks of this man he was obviously in need of a grunt. Alto resented grunt-work.
The strangers voice had a strong air of authority, the kind of ‘no question confidence’ that often made for strict masters, but his question to the group took Alto by surprise. He’d been passed around plenty by this point but he’d never known a master looking for a slave with experience with plants. It was almost laughable, but Alto had always loved a challenge. He stood straight, Khepri still rolling around in his palm.
“That’s rather a broad-answer question, isn’t it?” Alto said, noting the tone of unintended arrogance that bled through. “Both can be used as aesthetics or sleep aids.” he continued quickly. “It really depends on how much you use, how it’s prepared, the quality of the plant, how it is cultivated. You can use crushed henbane to numb skin, or treat a toothache. Mandragora is useful for a stomach ache or a cough, if prepared properly, but either can be brewed into poison or a hallucinogenic concoction.” Alto’s mouth formed a stern line but he made sure to avoid eye-contact, stepping forward so that the stranger wouldn’t need to speak as loudly.
He bowed short and polite before righting himself. This was the part that always confused him, sometimes masters liked you to introduce yourself professionally, other times your identity was of no concern. Alto chose not to say anything else, he’d already been a bit abrupt but he hoped he’d said enough at least to warrant some approval of his knowledge.
Alto had become good at blending during his time in the slave trade. He’d settled himself in the back, tucked away against the far wall behind a few of the ‘new meat’, shackled slaves that had yet to learn the proper way of responding to their slavers and masters. Alto had always been well behaved. He knew when to say yes sir, when to bow, when to grovel. Knew not to meet their eyes or challenge their dominance. His height had made it difficult to adapt at first but he’d been here enough times to know the ins and outs of slave body-language, what was acceptable and what wasn’t, and he was one of few left with his hands unbound and his own clothes still clean and intact.
He leaned, hunched over, against the cool stone, one hand in his pocket as his small Jerboa Khepri grabbed affectionately at his fingers, wiggling excitedly at finally having a chance to get his attention after a long and tiring journey. Alto was still surprised he’d managed to keep her for so long, almost a year had gone by and two masters who’d made no comment of his ‘pet’. He appreciated it most definitely but he often feared the day an incident with an angry slaver, slave or master would see her harmed.
He took notice of a tall, handsome man approaching his new slaver, dark hair, dark eyes and a wandering gaze that was as analytical as it was cold. He’d clearly been here before, or at least done the rounds of slavery. Handing the slaver a bag of gold and practically dismissing him to search the faces for a useful slave Alto couldn’t decided if his attitude was sexy or concerning. Alto kept his head down regardless. At this stage he could really take or pass on another master, at least in the slave ring all he had to do was present himself neatly and not get in trouble, and from the looks of this man he was obviously in need of a grunt. Alto resented grunt-work.
The strangers voice had a strong air of authority, the kind of ‘no question confidence’ that often made for strict masters, but his question to the group took Alto by surprise. He’d been passed around plenty by this point but he’d never known a master looking for a slave with experience with plants. It was almost laughable, but Alto had always loved a challenge. He stood straight, Khepri still rolling around in his palm.
“That’s rather a broad-answer question, isn’t it?” Alto said, noting the tone of unintended arrogance that bled through. “Both can be used as aesthetics or sleep aids.” he continued quickly. “It really depends on how much you use, how it’s prepared, the quality of the plant, how it is cultivated. You can use crushed henbane to numb skin, or treat a toothache. Mandragora is useful for a stomach ache or a cough, if prepared properly, but either can be brewed into poison or a hallucinogenic concoction.” Alto’s mouth formed a stern line but he made sure to avoid eye-contact, stepping forward so that the stranger wouldn’t need to speak as loudly.
He bowed short and polite before righting himself. This was the part that always confused him, sometimes masters liked you to introduce yourself professionally, other times your identity was of no concern. Alto chose not to say anything else, he’d already been a bit abrupt but he hoped he’d said enough at least to warrant some approval of his knowledge.
There was a reason why Kreios had asked. He was purchasing a new slave for a very specific reason, and it would be useless if said slave that he purchased did not know jack about his trick of his trades, now did he? So had no one answered, Kreios would've turned right around, grabbed his bag of gold and went off to another slave trader. As such, it was no surprise that the man who had eagerly claimed his grubby hands on Kreios's generous payment was shifting nervously next to Kreios as he waited, hands in pockets for an answer.
But one rose to the challenge.
Obsidian eyes flickered the moment the strange man stood up. Kreios noted the difference in features almost immediately, and was quick to note that this was no simple Grecian. He was tall, almost freakishly so, and a factor that while had Kreios taken aback, the man was quick to note the benefit of such height. He could reach greater heights without assistance of a chair, which meant Kreios did not need to bother with getting extra tools. His skin was fair, unnervingly flaked, with orange hair that marked him definitely not from the area. Briefly, Kreios frowned when he noted how thin he was, not to mention the palm with a creature the merchant was quite sure was a monkey... but he'd take his chances.
Frowning at the tone of arrogance, unintended or otherwise in the man's tone, that did not change the fact that he had little to choose from. Kreios was loathe to pick someone who may harm, or Gods forbid, even cause death to his carefully cared for and picked herbs and foreign, exotic plants. As such, when the slave for sale displayed a considerable amount of knowledge, his frown turned contemplative, as he took a few steps closer.
"And how would one care for a mandragora plant in the Grecian climate, as opposed to the Egyptian's dry heat?" he murmured in further question, a small, daring smile on his lips. "And a henbane sapling. Would it survive within our climate as well?"
He had to cover his bases, after all, but already, the merchant was leaning on the chance that he may purchase this fair looking oddity of a slave he had found. For the first time, it was a slave who seemed to know what he was talking about. While Kreios did not intend to hire him for long, and would likely sell him off to another slave trader again once he was free of his current invalid, perhaps times may change his perception and decision.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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There was a reason why Kreios had asked. He was purchasing a new slave for a very specific reason, and it would be useless if said slave that he purchased did not know jack about his trick of his trades, now did he? So had no one answered, Kreios would've turned right around, grabbed his bag of gold and went off to another slave trader. As such, it was no surprise that the man who had eagerly claimed his grubby hands on Kreios's generous payment was shifting nervously next to Kreios as he waited, hands in pockets for an answer.
But one rose to the challenge.
Obsidian eyes flickered the moment the strange man stood up. Kreios noted the difference in features almost immediately, and was quick to note that this was no simple Grecian. He was tall, almost freakishly so, and a factor that while had Kreios taken aback, the man was quick to note the benefit of such height. He could reach greater heights without assistance of a chair, which meant Kreios did not need to bother with getting extra tools. His skin was fair, unnervingly flaked, with orange hair that marked him definitely not from the area. Briefly, Kreios frowned when he noted how thin he was, not to mention the palm with a creature the merchant was quite sure was a monkey... but he'd take his chances.
Frowning at the tone of arrogance, unintended or otherwise in the man's tone, that did not change the fact that he had little to choose from. Kreios was loathe to pick someone who may harm, or Gods forbid, even cause death to his carefully cared for and picked herbs and foreign, exotic plants. As such, when the slave for sale displayed a considerable amount of knowledge, his frown turned contemplative, as he took a few steps closer.
"And how would one care for a mandragora plant in the Grecian climate, as opposed to the Egyptian's dry heat?" he murmured in further question, a small, daring smile on his lips. "And a henbane sapling. Would it survive within our climate as well?"
He had to cover his bases, after all, but already, the merchant was leaning on the chance that he may purchase this fair looking oddity of a slave he had found. For the first time, it was a slave who seemed to know what he was talking about. While Kreios did not intend to hire him for long, and would likely sell him off to another slave trader again once he was free of his current invalid, perhaps times may change his perception and decision.
There was a reason why Kreios had asked. He was purchasing a new slave for a very specific reason, and it would be useless if said slave that he purchased did not know jack about his trick of his trades, now did he? So had no one answered, Kreios would've turned right around, grabbed his bag of gold and went off to another slave trader. As such, it was no surprise that the man who had eagerly claimed his grubby hands on Kreios's generous payment was shifting nervously next to Kreios as he waited, hands in pockets for an answer.
But one rose to the challenge.
Obsidian eyes flickered the moment the strange man stood up. Kreios noted the difference in features almost immediately, and was quick to note that this was no simple Grecian. He was tall, almost freakishly so, and a factor that while had Kreios taken aback, the man was quick to note the benefit of such height. He could reach greater heights without assistance of a chair, which meant Kreios did not need to bother with getting extra tools. His skin was fair, unnervingly flaked, with orange hair that marked him definitely not from the area. Briefly, Kreios frowned when he noted how thin he was, not to mention the palm with a creature the merchant was quite sure was a monkey... but he'd take his chances.
Frowning at the tone of arrogance, unintended or otherwise in the man's tone, that did not change the fact that he had little to choose from. Kreios was loathe to pick someone who may harm, or Gods forbid, even cause death to his carefully cared for and picked herbs and foreign, exotic plants. As such, when the slave for sale displayed a considerable amount of knowledge, his frown turned contemplative, as he took a few steps closer.
"And how would one care for a mandragora plant in the Grecian climate, as opposed to the Egyptian's dry heat?" he murmured in further question, a small, daring smile on his lips. "And a henbane sapling. Would it survive within our climate as well?"
He had to cover his bases, after all, but already, the merchant was leaning on the chance that he may purchase this fair looking oddity of a slave he had found. For the first time, it was a slave who seemed to know what he was talking about. While Kreios did not intend to hire him for long, and would likely sell him off to another slave trader again once he was free of his current invalid, perhaps times may change his perception and decision.
Alto’s heart gave a hiccup at the strangers almost dangerous smile, yes he was most definitely handsome, in a very… Different way. Alto wanted to meet the man's challenge as his mouth formed a contemplative line, thinking back on the texts he’d read many months, possibly years, prior. “From what I remember, Henbane is fairly easy to grow, as long as the plant isn’t over-watered and the roots stay free of damp induced rot.” Humming lightly, Alto’s gaze drifted to the strangers feet, he expected more… Polished boots, perhaps. “It needs regular waterings, especially during the summer, so it can be a little difficult to gage unless you know to look for swelling or splitting at the base. Which I do.” He added with a slight smirk.
“Mandragora is a little more difficult though, I don’t think I’ve heard of it being grown outside of deserts or savannas, though I imagine the flowers would be better off in a more shaded climate. I know they need a lot of watering during summer but they can pretty much be left to their own. I’m guessing rot would probably be an issue in other climates though, it likes water but not stagnant damp, so that could be tricky.” By this stage Alto was more rambling to himself, his eyes shifting lowly to different objects of interest. He would have loved to pull out his notebook and review notes and sketches and add some contemplative information, but now probably wasn’t the time for a slave to play scholar.
From the looks of it, this man was not a particularly patient master, either. Alto and his big arrogant mouth. He liked the questions, though, and any master who’d walked in asking them would have piqued Alto’s interest to be honest. He was tired of being bought for menial tasks and the kinds of questions this man was asking sounded like something Alto would ponder in his spare time. The man probably had a garden, probably for medicine, though the look of him made Alto lean towards poisons. It was difficult to analyse the situation, both plants were equally good for healing or hurting. Alto wondered if the man knew this, or if he was just thinking too in depth.
“I have studied a lot of theory on plants and I was raised on a farm, so have at least some experience.” Alto added politely, bowing slightly again. He hadn’t really handled this like a proper sale, though usually he was merely lined up alongside his fellow slaves, only called forward for yes or no questions. This awkwardness of the situation made Alto weirdly self-conscious, of course he was used to being scrutinised but this was different. He subconsciously shifted his robes and corrected his posture.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Alto’s heart gave a hiccup at the strangers almost dangerous smile, yes he was most definitely handsome, in a very… Different way. Alto wanted to meet the man's challenge as his mouth formed a contemplative line, thinking back on the texts he’d read many months, possibly years, prior. “From what I remember, Henbane is fairly easy to grow, as long as the plant isn’t over-watered and the roots stay free of damp induced rot.” Humming lightly, Alto’s gaze drifted to the strangers feet, he expected more… Polished boots, perhaps. “It needs regular waterings, especially during the summer, so it can be a little difficult to gage unless you know to look for swelling or splitting at the base. Which I do.” He added with a slight smirk.
“Mandragora is a little more difficult though, I don’t think I’ve heard of it being grown outside of deserts or savannas, though I imagine the flowers would be better off in a more shaded climate. I know they need a lot of watering during summer but they can pretty much be left to their own. I’m guessing rot would probably be an issue in other climates though, it likes water but not stagnant damp, so that could be tricky.” By this stage Alto was more rambling to himself, his eyes shifting lowly to different objects of interest. He would have loved to pull out his notebook and review notes and sketches and add some contemplative information, but now probably wasn’t the time for a slave to play scholar.
From the looks of it, this man was not a particularly patient master, either. Alto and his big arrogant mouth. He liked the questions, though, and any master who’d walked in asking them would have piqued Alto’s interest to be honest. He was tired of being bought for menial tasks and the kinds of questions this man was asking sounded like something Alto would ponder in his spare time. The man probably had a garden, probably for medicine, though the look of him made Alto lean towards poisons. It was difficult to analyse the situation, both plants were equally good for healing or hurting. Alto wondered if the man knew this, or if he was just thinking too in depth.
“I have studied a lot of theory on plants and I was raised on a farm, so have at least some experience.” Alto added politely, bowing slightly again. He hadn’t really handled this like a proper sale, though usually he was merely lined up alongside his fellow slaves, only called forward for yes or no questions. This awkwardness of the situation made Alto weirdly self-conscious, of course he was used to being scrutinised but this was different. He subconsciously shifted his robes and corrected his posture.
Alto’s heart gave a hiccup at the strangers almost dangerous smile, yes he was most definitely handsome, in a very… Different way. Alto wanted to meet the man's challenge as his mouth formed a contemplative line, thinking back on the texts he’d read many months, possibly years, prior. “From what I remember, Henbane is fairly easy to grow, as long as the plant isn’t over-watered and the roots stay free of damp induced rot.” Humming lightly, Alto’s gaze drifted to the strangers feet, he expected more… Polished boots, perhaps. “It needs regular waterings, especially during the summer, so it can be a little difficult to gage unless you know to look for swelling or splitting at the base. Which I do.” He added with a slight smirk.
“Mandragora is a little more difficult though, I don’t think I’ve heard of it being grown outside of deserts or savannas, though I imagine the flowers would be better off in a more shaded climate. I know they need a lot of watering during summer but they can pretty much be left to their own. I’m guessing rot would probably be an issue in other climates though, it likes water but not stagnant damp, so that could be tricky.” By this stage Alto was more rambling to himself, his eyes shifting lowly to different objects of interest. He would have loved to pull out his notebook and review notes and sketches and add some contemplative information, but now probably wasn’t the time for a slave to play scholar.
From the looks of it, this man was not a particularly patient master, either. Alto and his big arrogant mouth. He liked the questions, though, and any master who’d walked in asking them would have piqued Alto’s interest to be honest. He was tired of being bought for menial tasks and the kinds of questions this man was asking sounded like something Alto would ponder in his spare time. The man probably had a garden, probably for medicine, though the look of him made Alto lean towards poisons. It was difficult to analyse the situation, both plants were equally good for healing or hurting. Alto wondered if the man knew this, or if he was just thinking too in depth.
“I have studied a lot of theory on plants and I was raised on a farm, so have at least some experience.” Alto added politely, bowing slightly again. He hadn’t really handled this like a proper sale, though usually he was merely lined up alongside his fellow slaves, only called forward for yes or no questions. This awkwardness of the situation made Alto weirdly self-conscious, of course he was used to being scrutinised but this was different. He subconsciously shifted his robes and corrected his posture.
The man was perceptive in his decisions, and had always been so. Never one to be indecisive, to Kreios, the time he had was precious and not to be wasted in faffing about on the may and may nots. The way the fair skinned slave that was obviously not Grecian descent smiled had Kreios frowning, but there was no denying the fact that he was skilled, and knew what he was doing. Both were things that Kreios could use in assistance in ensuring the two precious plants he had just brought home from his recent voyage to Judea and Egypt did not die in his hands, especially not when he would be busy ensuring the care of a half broken body.
"Some experience is what I need. Come with me."
Without another glance to the slave trader who he bought Alto from, for his sack of gold had been more then enough payment for a new slave, Kreios turned on his heels and expected his orders to be followed as he headed out of the small area, and back on to the part. The smell of fish, the salty tang of the air and the sounds of brash and loud sailors immediately assaulted them both, but Kreios barely bat an eyelash as he continued walking, swiftly avoiding the humans in his path as he headed out of the port towards the small lane leading to the Lower Levels of the Taengean capitol.
"I have an invalid in the house. Your quarters will be a shed in the corner on the far end of my garden. Your duties are to tend to my garden. From hemlock to wolfsbane, anemone and asphodel, and more, I have them all in the garden. I'm assuming you would be smart enough to not get killed by my 'pets'" Kreios flicked a careful gaze at Alto, as if assuming the slave should know by now, the punishment should any of his precious plants die in his care. "You will identify all of my plants for me, and then you will proceed to ensure the newly purchased henbane and mandragora I have brought back will thrive in our climate."
Taking a left to a street that led upwards, Kreios eventually came to a small hut that was obviously not large enough to house two, yet it came with a large backyard that was teeming with greenery and botany of all sorts. Furthest away from the small cabin, was a smaller yet shed that would fit one person. Kreios had left that shed without caring for it over the last few years, for he had no use for it, but it would now serve as his slave's quarters, and Alto would not even need to enter the main house to get there, for a small gate from the garden would enable Alto to leave and enter from there.
Fishing from his pocket, he handed the slave a small sack that contained a handful of coins. "Use this to purchase what you need for my plants, and for the furnishing of your new quarters. I would come and inspect your work every evening. Do not enter my house. My dog is not friendly." Without more words of instructions, Kreios turned on his heels and left Alto at that, returning to his quarters to ensure that his invalid had not yet succumbed to Thanatos's calling. While he had not put any security measures in place to ensure his newly purchased slave would not run away, it was implied enough that, while Kreios would allow Alto a certain sense of freedom, he would also not tolerate insubordinance. And punishment from Kreios would be vile indeed. Besides, his newly purchased hound from Judea made a fine tracking dog.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The man was perceptive in his decisions, and had always been so. Never one to be indecisive, to Kreios, the time he had was precious and not to be wasted in faffing about on the may and may nots. The way the fair skinned slave that was obviously not Grecian descent smiled had Kreios frowning, but there was no denying the fact that he was skilled, and knew what he was doing. Both were things that Kreios could use in assistance in ensuring the two precious plants he had just brought home from his recent voyage to Judea and Egypt did not die in his hands, especially not when he would be busy ensuring the care of a half broken body.
"Some experience is what I need. Come with me."
Without another glance to the slave trader who he bought Alto from, for his sack of gold had been more then enough payment for a new slave, Kreios turned on his heels and expected his orders to be followed as he headed out of the small area, and back on to the part. The smell of fish, the salty tang of the air and the sounds of brash and loud sailors immediately assaulted them both, but Kreios barely bat an eyelash as he continued walking, swiftly avoiding the humans in his path as he headed out of the port towards the small lane leading to the Lower Levels of the Taengean capitol.
"I have an invalid in the house. Your quarters will be a shed in the corner on the far end of my garden. Your duties are to tend to my garden. From hemlock to wolfsbane, anemone and asphodel, and more, I have them all in the garden. I'm assuming you would be smart enough to not get killed by my 'pets'" Kreios flicked a careful gaze at Alto, as if assuming the slave should know by now, the punishment should any of his precious plants die in his care. "You will identify all of my plants for me, and then you will proceed to ensure the newly purchased henbane and mandragora I have brought back will thrive in our climate."
Taking a left to a street that led upwards, Kreios eventually came to a small hut that was obviously not large enough to house two, yet it came with a large backyard that was teeming with greenery and botany of all sorts. Furthest away from the small cabin, was a smaller yet shed that would fit one person. Kreios had left that shed without caring for it over the last few years, for he had no use for it, but it would now serve as his slave's quarters, and Alto would not even need to enter the main house to get there, for a small gate from the garden would enable Alto to leave and enter from there.
Fishing from his pocket, he handed the slave a small sack that contained a handful of coins. "Use this to purchase what you need for my plants, and for the furnishing of your new quarters. I would come and inspect your work every evening. Do not enter my house. My dog is not friendly." Without more words of instructions, Kreios turned on his heels and left Alto at that, returning to his quarters to ensure that his invalid had not yet succumbed to Thanatos's calling. While he had not put any security measures in place to ensure his newly purchased slave would not run away, it was implied enough that, while Kreios would allow Alto a certain sense of freedom, he would also not tolerate insubordinance. And punishment from Kreios would be vile indeed. Besides, his newly purchased hound from Judea made a fine tracking dog.
The man was perceptive in his decisions, and had always been so. Never one to be indecisive, to Kreios, the time he had was precious and not to be wasted in faffing about on the may and may nots. The way the fair skinned slave that was obviously not Grecian descent smiled had Kreios frowning, but there was no denying the fact that he was skilled, and knew what he was doing. Both were things that Kreios could use in assistance in ensuring the two precious plants he had just brought home from his recent voyage to Judea and Egypt did not die in his hands, especially not when he would be busy ensuring the care of a half broken body.
"Some experience is what I need. Come with me."
Without another glance to the slave trader who he bought Alto from, for his sack of gold had been more then enough payment for a new slave, Kreios turned on his heels and expected his orders to be followed as he headed out of the small area, and back on to the part. The smell of fish, the salty tang of the air and the sounds of brash and loud sailors immediately assaulted them both, but Kreios barely bat an eyelash as he continued walking, swiftly avoiding the humans in his path as he headed out of the port towards the small lane leading to the Lower Levels of the Taengean capitol.
"I have an invalid in the house. Your quarters will be a shed in the corner on the far end of my garden. Your duties are to tend to my garden. From hemlock to wolfsbane, anemone and asphodel, and more, I have them all in the garden. I'm assuming you would be smart enough to not get killed by my 'pets'" Kreios flicked a careful gaze at Alto, as if assuming the slave should know by now, the punishment should any of his precious plants die in his care. "You will identify all of my plants for me, and then you will proceed to ensure the newly purchased henbane and mandragora I have brought back will thrive in our climate."
Taking a left to a street that led upwards, Kreios eventually came to a small hut that was obviously not large enough to house two, yet it came with a large backyard that was teeming with greenery and botany of all sorts. Furthest away from the small cabin, was a smaller yet shed that would fit one person. Kreios had left that shed without caring for it over the last few years, for he had no use for it, but it would now serve as his slave's quarters, and Alto would not even need to enter the main house to get there, for a small gate from the garden would enable Alto to leave and enter from there.
Fishing from his pocket, he handed the slave a small sack that contained a handful of coins. "Use this to purchase what you need for my plants, and for the furnishing of your new quarters. I would come and inspect your work every evening. Do not enter my house. My dog is not friendly." Without more words of instructions, Kreios turned on his heels and left Alto at that, returning to his quarters to ensure that his invalid had not yet succumbed to Thanatos's calling. While he had not put any security measures in place to ensure his newly purchased slave would not run away, it was implied enough that, while Kreios would allow Alto a certain sense of freedom, he would also not tolerate insubordinance. And punishment from Kreios would be vile indeed. Besides, his newly purchased hound from Judea made a fine tracking dog.
Alto stumbled after his new master, a little taken aback by his sharp and none-too courteous departure. He followed hastily, his long legs doing little in terms of catching up to the only slightly shorter man. The docks were full of bustling strangers and Alto almost lost sight of his master in the crowd, weaving his way awkwardly between people who knew far more about where they were going than he did at the moment. Finally, turning away from the port, Alto was able to catch up properly, walking a few paces behind the strange man. He spoke with such confidence but his tone left no room for questioning. Alto had been given his purpose and he was sure he did not want to find out what would happen if he did his duties poorly.
“Yes, Master.” He said firmly, but he was quite sure the sound of it was unimportant on his master’s ears.
It was apparent when they’d finally reached their destination, the smell of the gardens and their diversity of species assaulted Alto senses. He could name a few by smell alone but the garden itself just seemed so… Exotic. And exotic it was, the cabin was none too exuberant, not at all what Alto had expected, but the biodiversity of the gardens had Alto excited to explore and document his findings. He knew there would be a lot to study and he’d need to find out more about a few of the more obscure plants he could see from his position near the gate.
The master indicated the shed he’d be occupying, a dingy thing likely left to the elements for many years. At a glance Alto could tell there would likely be leaks and chilling drafts, it’d be hot in the warmer seasons but it had been a long time since he had somewhere to call home. He was happy just to spend a night where he didn’t need to be on guard for the deception of his fellow slaves.
His master’s voice startled him from his wonderings and Alto was surprised to be presented a small pouch of coin, he felt the weight of it with slight awe, it had been a very long time since he’d held coin himself, and even than it had only been for making purchases on his older mistresses master’s behalf. He hadn’t gotten a chance to get a word in before the unusual man had entered his home, leaving Alto unsure of himself, standing in a position where he could quite literally walk away, find a boat and continue on to his freedom. It was an unusual feeling.
Of course, Alto was not that brave. Instead he opted to making his first steps around the garden, his sketchbook pulled from his pockets so he could make listing of the species he could identify, and sketches of those he could not. Pocketing small morsels for his darling Khepri to nibble from her beloved hiding place.
He didn’t even know where the markets were...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Alto stumbled after his new master, a little taken aback by his sharp and none-too courteous departure. He followed hastily, his long legs doing little in terms of catching up to the only slightly shorter man. The docks were full of bustling strangers and Alto almost lost sight of his master in the crowd, weaving his way awkwardly between people who knew far more about where they were going than he did at the moment. Finally, turning away from the port, Alto was able to catch up properly, walking a few paces behind the strange man. He spoke with such confidence but his tone left no room for questioning. Alto had been given his purpose and he was sure he did not want to find out what would happen if he did his duties poorly.
“Yes, Master.” He said firmly, but he was quite sure the sound of it was unimportant on his master’s ears.
It was apparent when they’d finally reached their destination, the smell of the gardens and their diversity of species assaulted Alto senses. He could name a few by smell alone but the garden itself just seemed so… Exotic. And exotic it was, the cabin was none too exuberant, not at all what Alto had expected, but the biodiversity of the gardens had Alto excited to explore and document his findings. He knew there would be a lot to study and he’d need to find out more about a few of the more obscure plants he could see from his position near the gate.
The master indicated the shed he’d be occupying, a dingy thing likely left to the elements for many years. At a glance Alto could tell there would likely be leaks and chilling drafts, it’d be hot in the warmer seasons but it had been a long time since he had somewhere to call home. He was happy just to spend a night where he didn’t need to be on guard for the deception of his fellow slaves.
His master’s voice startled him from his wonderings and Alto was surprised to be presented a small pouch of coin, he felt the weight of it with slight awe, it had been a very long time since he’d held coin himself, and even than it had only been for making purchases on his older mistresses master’s behalf. He hadn’t gotten a chance to get a word in before the unusual man had entered his home, leaving Alto unsure of himself, standing in a position where he could quite literally walk away, find a boat and continue on to his freedom. It was an unusual feeling.
Of course, Alto was not that brave. Instead he opted to making his first steps around the garden, his sketchbook pulled from his pockets so he could make listing of the species he could identify, and sketches of those he could not. Pocketing small morsels for his darling Khepri to nibble from her beloved hiding place.
He didn’t even know where the markets were...
Alto stumbled after his new master, a little taken aback by his sharp and none-too courteous departure. He followed hastily, his long legs doing little in terms of catching up to the only slightly shorter man. The docks were full of bustling strangers and Alto almost lost sight of his master in the crowd, weaving his way awkwardly between people who knew far more about where they were going than he did at the moment. Finally, turning away from the port, Alto was able to catch up properly, walking a few paces behind the strange man. He spoke with such confidence but his tone left no room for questioning. Alto had been given his purpose and he was sure he did not want to find out what would happen if he did his duties poorly.
“Yes, Master.” He said firmly, but he was quite sure the sound of it was unimportant on his master’s ears.
It was apparent when they’d finally reached their destination, the smell of the gardens and their diversity of species assaulted Alto senses. He could name a few by smell alone but the garden itself just seemed so… Exotic. And exotic it was, the cabin was none too exuberant, not at all what Alto had expected, but the biodiversity of the gardens had Alto excited to explore and document his findings. He knew there would be a lot to study and he’d need to find out more about a few of the more obscure plants he could see from his position near the gate.
The master indicated the shed he’d be occupying, a dingy thing likely left to the elements for many years. At a glance Alto could tell there would likely be leaks and chilling drafts, it’d be hot in the warmer seasons but it had been a long time since he had somewhere to call home. He was happy just to spend a night where he didn’t need to be on guard for the deception of his fellow slaves.
His master’s voice startled him from his wonderings and Alto was surprised to be presented a small pouch of coin, he felt the weight of it with slight awe, it had been a very long time since he’d held coin himself, and even than it had only been for making purchases on his older mistresses master’s behalf. He hadn’t gotten a chance to get a word in before the unusual man had entered his home, leaving Alto unsure of himself, standing in a position where he could quite literally walk away, find a boat and continue on to his freedom. It was an unusual feeling.
Of course, Alto was not that brave. Instead he opted to making his first steps around the garden, his sketchbook pulled from his pockets so he could make listing of the species he could identify, and sketches of those he could not. Pocketing small morsels for his darling Khepri to nibble from her beloved hiding place.
