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Having arrived just a few days earlier after a long 2 weeks at sea with his sailor and crew, Kreios had been busy with procuring all he needed to, in order to make his trip worth it. Despite being a merchant dabbling in poisons and herbs, Kreios was an astute businessman who only did something if the return was worth it. For a long trip to a different realm far away, he did not do it often unless said trip was necessary to replenish stocks.
But to make it worth his while, Kreios always ensured he did more then simply restock.
He had some clients and customers around Africa, albeit not as many as he has in Greece, but a scarce few here and there. But more then that, what he had in Africa were contacts and suppliers, plants and saplings he did not have readily available in Greece. He's had little success in growing certain plants in Greece which he's brought over from, but whatever he managed to would stick, and resulted in Kreios making a name for himself as a merchant who had unconventional items for sale.
It was a name he was happy with. And it was a name he wanted to keep.
So these days, Kreios tried to make trips to Africa as soon as he runs out of his more exotic supplies, but he was a man of long term planning. He wanted to ensure he had access to these plants that did not require a half a month travel away, susceptible to the change in weather and the moods of the Gods.
Visiting the market was a common solution to his problem, and the male was, once again, found strolling down the streets of the Israelian city. Dressed in his sim'lah, an outfit he rarely wore unless he arrived in Africa, Kreios only wore it to ensure that he was not at an even greater disadvantage, knowing the xenophobic nature of Africans as a whole. Even if he did not look the part, dressing the part made his dealings easier, and less deadly glares were sent his way as he made his way down the streets.
With a small sack carrying a few plants and herbs he had procured. In another, bigger sack over his shoulder, were the various items in which he had brought from Greece, items which he used in barter with others when coin was not enough. Some merchants preferred exotic wares to simple gold, and that was where the odds and ends he carried were put to use. They were valuable, of course, but also items common in his home Kingdom, but uncommon to this realm across the sea. Having spent the morning haggling and mingling amongst many merchants of his sort, he now also smelt like a herb garden of various sorts, the scent clinging to his black sim'lah, and even through his dark locks.
It was a waft of cooking flatbread that held his interest however, and Kreios found his steps lingering, slowing to a stop in front of a shop front that the smell seem to emit from. Dark, obsidian irises flickered within its domain, before he asked in a rough tone of a voice that's been put to use all morning. "Your price, for the flatbread?"
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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Having arrived just a few days earlier after a long 2 weeks at sea with his sailor and crew, Kreios had been busy with procuring all he needed to, in order to make his trip worth it. Despite being a merchant dabbling in poisons and herbs, Kreios was an astute businessman who only did something if the return was worth it. For a long trip to a different realm far away, he did not do it often unless said trip was necessary to replenish stocks.
But to make it worth his while, Kreios always ensured he did more then simply restock.
He had some clients and customers around Africa, albeit not as many as he has in Greece, but a scarce few here and there. But more then that, what he had in Africa were contacts and suppliers, plants and saplings he did not have readily available in Greece. He's had little success in growing certain plants in Greece which he's brought over from, but whatever he managed to would stick, and resulted in Kreios making a name for himself as a merchant who had unconventional items for sale.
It was a name he was happy with. And it was a name he wanted to keep.
So these days, Kreios tried to make trips to Africa as soon as he runs out of his more exotic supplies, but he was a man of long term planning. He wanted to ensure he had access to these plants that did not require a half a month travel away, susceptible to the change in weather and the moods of the Gods.
Visiting the market was a common solution to his problem, and the male was, once again, found strolling down the streets of the Israelian city. Dressed in his sim'lah, an outfit he rarely wore unless he arrived in Africa, Kreios only wore it to ensure that he was not at an even greater disadvantage, knowing the xenophobic nature of Africans as a whole. Even if he did not look the part, dressing the part made his dealings easier, and less deadly glares were sent his way as he made his way down the streets.
With a small sack carrying a few plants and herbs he had procured. In another, bigger sack over his shoulder, were the various items in which he had brought from Greece, items which he used in barter with others when coin was not enough. Some merchants preferred exotic wares to simple gold, and that was where the odds and ends he carried were put to use. They were valuable, of course, but also items common in his home Kingdom, but uncommon to this realm across the sea. Having spent the morning haggling and mingling amongst many merchants of his sort, he now also smelt like a herb garden of various sorts, the scent clinging to his black sim'lah, and even through his dark locks.
It was a waft of cooking flatbread that held his interest however, and Kreios found his steps lingering, slowing to a stop in front of a shop front that the smell seem to emit from. Dark, obsidian irises flickered within its domain, before he asked in a rough tone of a voice that's been put to use all morning. "Your price, for the flatbread?"
Having arrived just a few days earlier after a long 2 weeks at sea with his sailor and crew, Kreios had been busy with procuring all he needed to, in order to make his trip worth it. Despite being a merchant dabbling in poisons and herbs, Kreios was an astute businessman who only did something if the return was worth it. For a long trip to a different realm far away, he did not do it often unless said trip was necessary to replenish stocks.
But to make it worth his while, Kreios always ensured he did more then simply restock.
He had some clients and customers around Africa, albeit not as many as he has in Greece, but a scarce few here and there. But more then that, what he had in Africa were contacts and suppliers, plants and saplings he did not have readily available in Greece. He's had little success in growing certain plants in Greece which he's brought over from, but whatever he managed to would stick, and resulted in Kreios making a name for himself as a merchant who had unconventional items for sale.
It was a name he was happy with. And it was a name he wanted to keep.
So these days, Kreios tried to make trips to Africa as soon as he runs out of his more exotic supplies, but he was a man of long term planning. He wanted to ensure he had access to these plants that did not require a half a month travel away, susceptible to the change in weather and the moods of the Gods.
Visiting the market was a common solution to his problem, and the male was, once again, found strolling down the streets of the Israelian city. Dressed in his sim'lah, an outfit he rarely wore unless he arrived in Africa, Kreios only wore it to ensure that he was not at an even greater disadvantage, knowing the xenophobic nature of Africans as a whole. Even if he did not look the part, dressing the part made his dealings easier, and less deadly glares were sent his way as he made his way down the streets.
With a small sack carrying a few plants and herbs he had procured. In another, bigger sack over his shoulder, were the various items in which he had brought from Greece, items which he used in barter with others when coin was not enough. Some merchants preferred exotic wares to simple gold, and that was where the odds and ends he carried were put to use. They were valuable, of course, but also items common in his home Kingdom, but uncommon to this realm across the sea. Having spent the morning haggling and mingling amongst many merchants of his sort, he now also smelt like a herb garden of various sorts, the scent clinging to his black sim'lah, and even through his dark locks.
It was a waft of cooking flatbread that held his interest however, and Kreios found his steps lingering, slowing to a stop in front of a shop front that the smell seem to emit from. Dark, obsidian irises flickered within its domain, before he asked in a rough tone of a voice that's been put to use all morning. "Your price, for the flatbread?"
As the midday sun warmed the Judean city beneath it, Hazael found himself alone in his father’s shop. Being seen by his family as a dismal failure who couldn’t be trusted with just about anything, this was a rare treat for the boy who enjoyed the few moments of solitude he could get. Being the middle child in a family of ten did not allow for chances like this fairly often and the peaceful tranquility of the store made him wish that his father trusted him enough to let him run the store on his own during portions of the day.
However, it wasn’t exactly true to say that Hazael was completely alone. A loud snore that echoed through the store reminded him as much. The noise pulled a small laugh from Hazael as he peered over the counter over at his newest canine, a mammoth blue-gray deerhound. As experience as the boy was with sighthounds like this dog, even he had never seen a dog quite like this before stumbling across him in the market place a few days ago. Belonging to a foreign trader, Hazael had to part with a few more coins than he would have liked in order to get his hands on the dog, but he believed it to be worth it in the end. If he could get this dog’s genes to enter his bloodlines… the puppies he raised would stand out against any other dog with the speed from their mother’s side and now the strength from their father.
But that wouldn’t be a while yet. Not while he needed to retrain the dog and have him get used to Hazael’s lifestyle which was far less interesting than the life the dog used to have when he was paired with a traveler. That’s why he was here in the store with Hazael but tucked away out of sight. Hopefully, within a few days, both the dog and his family would be used enough to the dog that he could just leave the hound at home. Maybe that way Hazael wouldn’t have to worry so much about him eating the food that was on display while Hazael wasn’t keeping an eye on the blue-grey blob that was his dog.
Although the store was not a bakery, the women in Hazael’s family did their part to help the business by occasionally making some baked goods. However, this was something that Avriam had devised not from noticing a gap in the market for flatbreads and other pastries because there quite frankly wasn’t one. The city of Israel was just absolutely filled with bakers from the artisans to those who sold their wares to the laborers of the city. There was no need for his family to encroach on the trade, not when they already enjoyed the reputation of carrying wares that other shops who didn’t think to travel around Judea wouldn’t. Yet, Avriam had insisted on having the doughy wares for sale all the same. Why? Well because Avriam knew that the smell of the bread could bring in customers that normally wouldn’t stop by their store if they didn’t have a reason to.
And it worked too, judging by this mysterious man who had entered so quietly that Hazael nearly jumped out of his skin when Kreios spoke. The nearby hound who had been resting up until this point from his hiding spot behind some barrels also lept to his feet and started to bark ferociously at the stranger. The noise echoed throughout the store, amplifying it as Hazael own hurried shouts in Hebrew added to the din. “That’s enough! Quiet! Oh, for god’s sake shut up!”
The dog didn’t listen, of course, since it was still a new dog to Hazael and he had yet had the chance to fully train him beyond the few basic commands. However, after a minute or two, the deerhound had no more steam within him and fell back onto the floor with a lazy “hmpf” once he realized that Kreios probably didn’t hold any sort of threat. But that didn’t mean the hound took his eyes off of Kreios for a second… or more notably his sack as the barrage of floral smells that clung to the Grecian filled the shop and the dog’s nose. Whatever in there was clearly enthralling the dog as he fell back into a sleepy stupor, calmed by whatever was in that bag of his.
Not being dumb enough to question it, Hazael said a simple. “Sorry about that,” to the man. Glancing up quickly at him from behind the counter, it only took this short moment for Hazael to know that this man was not Judean. There was just something about the way this man carried himself that made it clear to him that he was not from the city. Perhaps if Hazael’s vision wasn’t so terrible he might have been able to pick up on Kreios’s foreign features, but truthfully that wouldn’t be necessary. His father may not appreciate non-Judeans patronizing his business, if they had the money to pay, they were treated like any other customer.
Hazael squinted at the man before him as Kreios asked for the price of the very same flatbread that had lured him into the store. If Avriam had been there, the man might have been given a higher price than usual, but his son held back from cheating the man before him. After all, his poor eyesight prevented him from knowing exactly who this was. For all, he knew this man could be a close friend of his father’s and Hazael knew he would never hear the end of it if he got caught. Though then again, the same thing could happen if Hazael didn’t attempt to make the largest amount of money he could. He didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of Avriam’s rage and it also didn’t hurt that he knew that this whole debate depended on an option that was morally wrong.
So, instead, he chose to listen to his inner compass when he said with a tone that was matter of fact, “One Sugh” Both of them probably knew that this wasn’t going to be the final price though as Judeans were known for their tendency to barter. He’d probably end up paying a somewhat lower price at the end that was more in line with what the flatbread was worth. That was just the Judean way of doing things and quite truthfully was the best way of ensuring that both parties had the fairest price that they both could agree upon.
“Is there anything else that catches your eye?” Hazael asked with an eyebrow raised, not in any rush to chase him out of the store. Not if this man was willing to go a bit deeper into his pockets.
Little did Hazael know, but there was something else in the shop that Kreios had taken an interest in and it was something that the boy would not easily be parted with…
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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Deleted
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As the midday sun warmed the Judean city beneath it, Hazael found himself alone in his father’s shop. Being seen by his family as a dismal failure who couldn’t be trusted with just about anything, this was a rare treat for the boy who enjoyed the few moments of solitude he could get. Being the middle child in a family of ten did not allow for chances like this fairly often and the peaceful tranquility of the store made him wish that his father trusted him enough to let him run the store on his own during portions of the day.
However, it wasn’t exactly true to say that Hazael was completely alone. A loud snore that echoed through the store reminded him as much. The noise pulled a small laugh from Hazael as he peered over the counter over at his newest canine, a mammoth blue-gray deerhound. As experience as the boy was with sighthounds like this dog, even he had never seen a dog quite like this before stumbling across him in the market place a few days ago. Belonging to a foreign trader, Hazael had to part with a few more coins than he would have liked in order to get his hands on the dog, but he believed it to be worth it in the end. If he could get this dog’s genes to enter his bloodlines… the puppies he raised would stand out against any other dog with the speed from their mother’s side and now the strength from their father.
But that wouldn’t be a while yet. Not while he needed to retrain the dog and have him get used to Hazael’s lifestyle which was far less interesting than the life the dog used to have when he was paired with a traveler. That’s why he was here in the store with Hazael but tucked away out of sight. Hopefully, within a few days, both the dog and his family would be used enough to the dog that he could just leave the hound at home. Maybe that way Hazael wouldn’t have to worry so much about him eating the food that was on display while Hazael wasn’t keeping an eye on the blue-grey blob that was his dog.
Although the store was not a bakery, the women in Hazael’s family did their part to help the business by occasionally making some baked goods. However, this was something that Avriam had devised not from noticing a gap in the market for flatbreads and other pastries because there quite frankly wasn’t one. The city of Israel was just absolutely filled with bakers from the artisans to those who sold their wares to the laborers of the city. There was no need for his family to encroach on the trade, not when they already enjoyed the reputation of carrying wares that other shops who didn’t think to travel around Judea wouldn’t. Yet, Avriam had insisted on having the doughy wares for sale all the same. Why? Well because Avriam knew that the smell of the bread could bring in customers that normally wouldn’t stop by their store if they didn’t have a reason to.
And it worked too, judging by this mysterious man who had entered so quietly that Hazael nearly jumped out of his skin when Kreios spoke. The nearby hound who had been resting up until this point from his hiding spot behind some barrels also lept to his feet and started to bark ferociously at the stranger. The noise echoed throughout the store, amplifying it as Hazael own hurried shouts in Hebrew added to the din. “That’s enough! Quiet! Oh, for god’s sake shut up!”
The dog didn’t listen, of course, since it was still a new dog to Hazael and he had yet had the chance to fully train him beyond the few basic commands. However, after a minute or two, the deerhound had no more steam within him and fell back onto the floor with a lazy “hmpf” once he realized that Kreios probably didn’t hold any sort of threat. But that didn’t mean the hound took his eyes off of Kreios for a second… or more notably his sack as the barrage of floral smells that clung to the Grecian filled the shop and the dog’s nose. Whatever in there was clearly enthralling the dog as he fell back into a sleepy stupor, calmed by whatever was in that bag of his.
Not being dumb enough to question it, Hazael said a simple. “Sorry about that,” to the man. Glancing up quickly at him from behind the counter, it only took this short moment for Hazael to know that this man was not Judean. There was just something about the way this man carried himself that made it clear to him that he was not from the city. Perhaps if Hazael’s vision wasn’t so terrible he might have been able to pick up on Kreios’s foreign features, but truthfully that wouldn’t be necessary. His father may not appreciate non-Judeans patronizing his business, if they had the money to pay, they were treated like any other customer.
Hazael squinted at the man before him as Kreios asked for the price of the very same flatbread that had lured him into the store. If Avriam had been there, the man might have been given a higher price than usual, but his son held back from cheating the man before him. After all, his poor eyesight prevented him from knowing exactly who this was. For all, he knew this man could be a close friend of his father’s and Hazael knew he would never hear the end of it if he got caught. Though then again, the same thing could happen if Hazael didn’t attempt to make the largest amount of money he could. He didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of Avriam’s rage and it also didn’t hurt that he knew that this whole debate depended on an option that was morally wrong.
So, instead, he chose to listen to his inner compass when he said with a tone that was matter of fact, “One Sugh” Both of them probably knew that this wasn’t going to be the final price though as Judeans were known for their tendency to barter. He’d probably end up paying a somewhat lower price at the end that was more in line with what the flatbread was worth. That was just the Judean way of doing things and quite truthfully was the best way of ensuring that both parties had the fairest price that they both could agree upon.
“Is there anything else that catches your eye?” Hazael asked with an eyebrow raised, not in any rush to chase him out of the store. Not if this man was willing to go a bit deeper into his pockets.
Little did Hazael know, but there was something else in the shop that Kreios had taken an interest in and it was something that the boy would not easily be parted with…
As the midday sun warmed the Judean city beneath it, Hazael found himself alone in his father’s shop. Being seen by his family as a dismal failure who couldn’t be trusted with just about anything, this was a rare treat for the boy who enjoyed the few moments of solitude he could get. Being the middle child in a family of ten did not allow for chances like this fairly often and the peaceful tranquility of the store made him wish that his father trusted him enough to let him run the store on his own during portions of the day.
However, it wasn’t exactly true to say that Hazael was completely alone. A loud snore that echoed through the store reminded him as much. The noise pulled a small laugh from Hazael as he peered over the counter over at his newest canine, a mammoth blue-gray deerhound. As experience as the boy was with sighthounds like this dog, even he had never seen a dog quite like this before stumbling across him in the market place a few days ago. Belonging to a foreign trader, Hazael had to part with a few more coins than he would have liked in order to get his hands on the dog, but he believed it to be worth it in the end. If he could get this dog’s genes to enter his bloodlines… the puppies he raised would stand out against any other dog with the speed from their mother’s side and now the strength from their father.
But that wouldn’t be a while yet. Not while he needed to retrain the dog and have him get used to Hazael’s lifestyle which was far less interesting than the life the dog used to have when he was paired with a traveler. That’s why he was here in the store with Hazael but tucked away out of sight. Hopefully, within a few days, both the dog and his family would be used enough to the dog that he could just leave the hound at home. Maybe that way Hazael wouldn’t have to worry so much about him eating the food that was on display while Hazael wasn’t keeping an eye on the blue-grey blob that was his dog.
Although the store was not a bakery, the women in Hazael’s family did their part to help the business by occasionally making some baked goods. However, this was something that Avriam had devised not from noticing a gap in the market for flatbreads and other pastries because there quite frankly wasn’t one. The city of Israel was just absolutely filled with bakers from the artisans to those who sold their wares to the laborers of the city. There was no need for his family to encroach on the trade, not when they already enjoyed the reputation of carrying wares that other shops who didn’t think to travel around Judea wouldn’t. Yet, Avriam had insisted on having the doughy wares for sale all the same. Why? Well because Avriam knew that the smell of the bread could bring in customers that normally wouldn’t stop by their store if they didn’t have a reason to.
And it worked too, judging by this mysterious man who had entered so quietly that Hazael nearly jumped out of his skin when Kreios spoke. The nearby hound who had been resting up until this point from his hiding spot behind some barrels also lept to his feet and started to bark ferociously at the stranger. The noise echoed throughout the store, amplifying it as Hazael own hurried shouts in Hebrew added to the din. “That’s enough! Quiet! Oh, for god’s sake shut up!”
The dog didn’t listen, of course, since it was still a new dog to Hazael and he had yet had the chance to fully train him beyond the few basic commands. However, after a minute or two, the deerhound had no more steam within him and fell back onto the floor with a lazy “hmpf” once he realized that Kreios probably didn’t hold any sort of threat. But that didn’t mean the hound took his eyes off of Kreios for a second… or more notably his sack as the barrage of floral smells that clung to the Grecian filled the shop and the dog’s nose. Whatever in there was clearly enthralling the dog as he fell back into a sleepy stupor, calmed by whatever was in that bag of his.
Not being dumb enough to question it, Hazael said a simple. “Sorry about that,” to the man. Glancing up quickly at him from behind the counter, it only took this short moment for Hazael to know that this man was not Judean. There was just something about the way this man carried himself that made it clear to him that he was not from the city. Perhaps if Hazael’s vision wasn’t so terrible he might have been able to pick up on Kreios’s foreign features, but truthfully that wouldn’t be necessary. His father may not appreciate non-Judeans patronizing his business, if they had the money to pay, they were treated like any other customer.
Hazael squinted at the man before him as Kreios asked for the price of the very same flatbread that had lured him into the store. If Avriam had been there, the man might have been given a higher price than usual, but his son held back from cheating the man before him. After all, his poor eyesight prevented him from knowing exactly who this was. For all, he knew this man could be a close friend of his father’s and Hazael knew he would never hear the end of it if he got caught. Though then again, the same thing could happen if Hazael didn’t attempt to make the largest amount of money he could. He didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of Avriam’s rage and it also didn’t hurt that he knew that this whole debate depended on an option that was morally wrong.
So, instead, he chose to listen to his inner compass when he said with a tone that was matter of fact, “One Sugh” Both of them probably knew that this wasn’t going to be the final price though as Judeans were known for their tendency to barter. He’d probably end up paying a somewhat lower price at the end that was more in line with what the flatbread was worth. That was just the Judean way of doing things and quite truthfully was the best way of ensuring that both parties had the fairest price that they both could agree upon.
“Is there anything else that catches your eye?” Hazael asked with an eyebrow raised, not in any rush to chase him out of the store. Not if this man was willing to go a bit deeper into his pockets.
Little did Hazael know, but there was something else in the shop that Kreios had taken an interest in and it was something that the boy would not easily be parted with…
Considering he had only came to enquire on a piece of flatbread, he was being given considerably more in terms of entertainment. As the boy made his way out the front, Kreios found himself raising a brow when the Hebrew shout was aimed at a barking hound which had previously been hidden out of sight.
Then again, if the hound had not been hidden, perhaps he would be asking for a price for an entirely different thing.
A small smile curved his lips upwards as his eyes scrutinized the pooch that the Judean boy obviously was having a hard time training for commands. Yet, despite the hound's obvious lack of training, something about the creature drew Kreios towards him. As a merchant who travelled often and rarely staying in one place, Kreios grew attachment to nothing and no one. Even his childhood home was merely meant as a place for him to cultivate and grow his garden so he had more resources to make and store his stock. Attachment was a foreign concept to Kreios.
But the hound sparked an interesting light in Kreios. Something about the sharp way in which the deerhound look, even down to the way he fell out of steam and merely flopped back to the ground with a lazy look, made the dark-haired merchant smile, watching the Judean male handle the hound. Their eyes met, hound to male, and Kreios knew that for once, the male had to have this dog.
The clarification of price for the flatbread was met with silence, but it was his final statement that had Kreios raising a hand and pointing directly at the snoozing hound. "Price for that dog, please." It was said in a flat tone that garnered no debate, and all but told Hazael that he intended to get that dog, and would stop at no price. The blue-gray pooch had now entirely caught his attention, and Kreios was now unwilling to leave the place without the hound, even if he had to part with more coin. Money was never an issue for the merchant who had made his own millions afterall.
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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Considering he had only came to enquire on a piece of flatbread, he was being given considerably more in terms of entertainment. As the boy made his way out the front, Kreios found himself raising a brow when the Hebrew shout was aimed at a barking hound which had previously been hidden out of sight.
Then again, if the hound had not been hidden, perhaps he would be asking for a price for an entirely different thing.
A small smile curved his lips upwards as his eyes scrutinized the pooch that the Judean boy obviously was having a hard time training for commands. Yet, despite the hound's obvious lack of training, something about the creature drew Kreios towards him. As a merchant who travelled often and rarely staying in one place, Kreios grew attachment to nothing and no one. Even his childhood home was merely meant as a place for him to cultivate and grow his garden so he had more resources to make and store his stock. Attachment was a foreign concept to Kreios.
But the hound sparked an interesting light in Kreios. Something about the sharp way in which the deerhound look, even down to the way he fell out of steam and merely flopped back to the ground with a lazy look, made the dark-haired merchant smile, watching the Judean male handle the hound. Their eyes met, hound to male, and Kreios knew that for once, the male had to have this dog.
The clarification of price for the flatbread was met with silence, but it was his final statement that had Kreios raising a hand and pointing directly at the snoozing hound. "Price for that dog, please." It was said in a flat tone that garnered no debate, and all but told Hazael that he intended to get that dog, and would stop at no price. The blue-gray pooch had now entirely caught his attention, and Kreios was now unwilling to leave the place without the hound, even if he had to part with more coin. Money was never an issue for the merchant who had made his own millions afterall.
Considering he had only came to enquire on a piece of flatbread, he was being given considerably more in terms of entertainment. As the boy made his way out the front, Kreios found himself raising a brow when the Hebrew shout was aimed at a barking hound which had previously been hidden out of sight.
Then again, if the hound had not been hidden, perhaps he would be asking for a price for an entirely different thing.
A small smile curved his lips upwards as his eyes scrutinized the pooch that the Judean boy obviously was having a hard time training for commands. Yet, despite the hound's obvious lack of training, something about the creature drew Kreios towards him. As a merchant who travelled often and rarely staying in one place, Kreios grew attachment to nothing and no one. Even his childhood home was merely meant as a place for him to cultivate and grow his garden so he had more resources to make and store his stock. Attachment was a foreign concept to Kreios.
But the hound sparked an interesting light in Kreios. Something about the sharp way in which the deerhound look, even down to the way he fell out of steam and merely flopped back to the ground with a lazy look, made the dark-haired merchant smile, watching the Judean male handle the hound. Their eyes met, hound to male, and Kreios knew that for once, the male had to have this dog.
The clarification of price for the flatbread was met with silence, but it was his final statement that had Kreios raising a hand and pointing directly at the snoozing hound. "Price for that dog, please." It was said in a flat tone that garnered no debate, and all but told Hazael that he intended to get that dog, and would stop at no price. The blue-gray pooch had now entirely caught his attention, and Kreios was now unwilling to leave the place without the hound, even if he had to part with more coin. Money was never an issue for the merchant who had made his own millions afterall.
Hazael almost grew bored in the silence that accompanied the price of the flatbread. Normally, by this point those who were native to the African kingdom would counter with a lower price, starting a haggling process that would lead to a fair price for both sides. But Kreios just didn’t seem interested in doing so. Instead, he remained silent, forcing Hazael to roll his eyes when he realized for the first time that he was working with a foreigner and most likely a daft one at that. Of course, he would be stuck with a man like that. It was just his rotten luck wasn’t it? However, once the Greecian did speak, Hazael wished that he hadn’t said a word.
The boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the words registered. Did this man just demand that he buy his dog? Was he out of his mind? Hazael silently thought to himself as he regarded the man who was startlingly serious about his inquiry.
The klutzy boy was so flustered that he physically reeled back at the mention of this stranger demanding his dog from him. “What? No-” Hazael started to say in protest, but his own words were quickly drowned out as his elbow knocked into a nearby tray of beads. Quickly realizing his mistake, the lad turned to stop the wicker basket from falling, but he was too late. It topped to the ground, the noise of hundreds of tiny beads reverberating throughout the room. The hound in question perked up at the noise and barked once at it, only adding to the din. Hazael groaned in frustration as he shot daggers at the hound willing it to hush and not draw any attention to itself.
Just as the dog itself flopped back down, Hazael also crouched down onto the ground to chase after the little beads that had flown everywhere in the chaos. Although the boy wasn’t aware of it, he was kneeling closer to the ground than he should have with his nose only a foot or so away from the dirt. His hands scrambled for the beads, trying to pick all of them up because he knew that if he didn’t gather them all, his father would never let him hear the end of his stupid mistake of knocking over some of the wares for sale. So, he moved quickly to gather them back into the basket. If Kreios was paying attention, he would notice that even though the boy was an unnaturally close distance to the ground, he was still missing quite a few beads, particularly those who color closely matched the ground.
Without meaning to or realizing it, Hazael had revealed his deepest secret with this simple mistake.
To make matters worse, he had revealed his poor eyesight to a Greek who was intending to take his dog from him. A hound that Hazael needed for his bloodlines. He had no intention of letting this man walk away with his dog.
Hazael made that much clear as he stayed hunched to the ground, but said as forcefully he could muster in his flustered state brought on from the embarrassment of causing such a mess, “The dog is not for sale.” He didn’t even look up at the man as he said this, almost as a signal that he was not even going to entertain the thought of giving his deerhound away. That much was also made clear when he reaffirmed the price of the flatbread, but a bit more forcefully, implying that the time for haggling was now gone and Kreios would have to pay the full price for the baked good, “One sugh for the flatbread.”
Glaring up at the man, he waited to for Kreios to begin fishing around in his many pockets to find the silver coin that Hazael now demanded. He had no intention of wavering on his decision to not sell the dog, but little did he know that the Greecian may just be able to offer something to the boy that would be worth its weight in gold… something that the nineteen-year-old just simply couldn't refuse….
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Hazael almost grew bored in the silence that accompanied the price of the flatbread. Normally, by this point those who were native to the African kingdom would counter with a lower price, starting a haggling process that would lead to a fair price for both sides. But Kreios just didn’t seem interested in doing so. Instead, he remained silent, forcing Hazael to roll his eyes when he realized for the first time that he was working with a foreigner and most likely a daft one at that. Of course, he would be stuck with a man like that. It was just his rotten luck wasn’t it? However, once the Greecian did speak, Hazael wished that he hadn’t said a word.
The boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the words registered. Did this man just demand that he buy his dog? Was he out of his mind? Hazael silently thought to himself as he regarded the man who was startlingly serious about his inquiry.
The klutzy boy was so flustered that he physically reeled back at the mention of this stranger demanding his dog from him. “What? No-” Hazael started to say in protest, but his own words were quickly drowned out as his elbow knocked into a nearby tray of beads. Quickly realizing his mistake, the lad turned to stop the wicker basket from falling, but he was too late. It topped to the ground, the noise of hundreds of tiny beads reverberating throughout the room. The hound in question perked up at the noise and barked once at it, only adding to the din. Hazael groaned in frustration as he shot daggers at the hound willing it to hush and not draw any attention to itself.
Just as the dog itself flopped back down, Hazael also crouched down onto the ground to chase after the little beads that had flown everywhere in the chaos. Although the boy wasn’t aware of it, he was kneeling closer to the ground than he should have with his nose only a foot or so away from the dirt. His hands scrambled for the beads, trying to pick all of them up because he knew that if he didn’t gather them all, his father would never let him hear the end of his stupid mistake of knocking over some of the wares for sale. So, he moved quickly to gather them back into the basket. If Kreios was paying attention, he would notice that even though the boy was an unnaturally close distance to the ground, he was still missing quite a few beads, particularly those who color closely matched the ground.
Without meaning to or realizing it, Hazael had revealed his deepest secret with this simple mistake.
To make matters worse, he had revealed his poor eyesight to a Greek who was intending to take his dog from him. A hound that Hazael needed for his bloodlines. He had no intention of letting this man walk away with his dog.
Hazael made that much clear as he stayed hunched to the ground, but said as forcefully he could muster in his flustered state brought on from the embarrassment of causing such a mess, “The dog is not for sale.” He didn’t even look up at the man as he said this, almost as a signal that he was not even going to entertain the thought of giving his deerhound away. That much was also made clear when he reaffirmed the price of the flatbread, but a bit more forcefully, implying that the time for haggling was now gone and Kreios would have to pay the full price for the baked good, “One sugh for the flatbread.”
Glaring up at the man, he waited to for Kreios to begin fishing around in his many pockets to find the silver coin that Hazael now demanded. He had no intention of wavering on his decision to not sell the dog, but little did he know that the Greecian may just be able to offer something to the boy that would be worth its weight in gold… something that the nineteen-year-old just simply couldn't refuse….
Hazael almost grew bored in the silence that accompanied the price of the flatbread. Normally, by this point those who were native to the African kingdom would counter with a lower price, starting a haggling process that would lead to a fair price for both sides. But Kreios just didn’t seem interested in doing so. Instead, he remained silent, forcing Hazael to roll his eyes when he realized for the first time that he was working with a foreigner and most likely a daft one at that. Of course, he would be stuck with a man like that. It was just his rotten luck wasn’t it? However, once the Greecian did speak, Hazael wished that he hadn’t said a word.
The boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when the words registered. Did this man just demand that he buy his dog? Was he out of his mind? Hazael silently thought to himself as he regarded the man who was startlingly serious about his inquiry.
The klutzy boy was so flustered that he physically reeled back at the mention of this stranger demanding his dog from him. “What? No-” Hazael started to say in protest, but his own words were quickly drowned out as his elbow knocked into a nearby tray of beads. Quickly realizing his mistake, the lad turned to stop the wicker basket from falling, but he was too late. It topped to the ground, the noise of hundreds of tiny beads reverberating throughout the room. The hound in question perked up at the noise and barked once at it, only adding to the din. Hazael groaned in frustration as he shot daggers at the hound willing it to hush and not draw any attention to itself.
Just as the dog itself flopped back down, Hazael also crouched down onto the ground to chase after the little beads that had flown everywhere in the chaos. Although the boy wasn’t aware of it, he was kneeling closer to the ground than he should have with his nose only a foot or so away from the dirt. His hands scrambled for the beads, trying to pick all of them up because he knew that if he didn’t gather them all, his father would never let him hear the end of his stupid mistake of knocking over some of the wares for sale. So, he moved quickly to gather them back into the basket. If Kreios was paying attention, he would notice that even though the boy was an unnaturally close distance to the ground, he was still missing quite a few beads, particularly those who color closely matched the ground.
Without meaning to or realizing it, Hazael had revealed his deepest secret with this simple mistake.
To make matters worse, he had revealed his poor eyesight to a Greek who was intending to take his dog from him. A hound that Hazael needed for his bloodlines. He had no intention of letting this man walk away with his dog.
Hazael made that much clear as he stayed hunched to the ground, but said as forcefully he could muster in his flustered state brought on from the embarrassment of causing such a mess, “The dog is not for sale.” He didn’t even look up at the man as he said this, almost as a signal that he was not even going to entertain the thought of giving his deerhound away. That much was also made clear when he reaffirmed the price of the flatbread, but a bit more forcefully, implying that the time for haggling was now gone and Kreios would have to pay the full price for the baked good, “One sugh for the flatbread.”
Glaring up at the man, he waited to for Kreios to begin fishing around in his many pockets to find the silver coin that Hazael now demanded. He had no intention of wavering on his decision to not sell the dog, but little did he know that the Greecian may just be able to offer something to the boy that would be worth its weight in gold… something that the nineteen-year-old just simply couldn't refuse….
The boy's reaction piqued Kreios's curiosity - as did the immediate rejection of his purchase. What, did he not want to earn coin? Kreios had coin and precious gems in abundance from his sales and trading with various people across Greece, Africa and other continents when he deemed to travel further. He could offer any price, yet the merchant did not see why the mutt was worth such a hefty price, or priceless, according to the boy's reaction.
His brows had furrowed when the boy seemed to panic enough that he would knock over a tray, the beads toppled to the ground, falling all over the floors.
But what caught the male's attention after was not the fact that the boy had been panicked by his offer. Instead, Kreios's mind churned as he saw the way the boy crouched, his sharp mind catching on far more then a regular person would. The way in which the boy was closer to the ground, squinting as he scrambled for the fallen goods, and missing out the beads that almost blended in to the color of the ground. Anyone with regular functioning human sight would be able to see the difference between ground and bead... but perhaps he did not have such an ability.
A smile immediately quirked up one corner of Kreios' lips, a sly one as a plan formed in his mind. Judging from the scrambling, hurried way in which the poor boy worked, it was obvious there would be consequences he would face should he fail at his task. Bending down himself, Kreios swept up a few of the beads Hazael had missed, just as the boy muttered in a voice he would've missed had he not been closer. Not for sale? Well well. He underestimated Kreios's ability, then.
Straightening up as the boy glared upwards, Kreios's smile stayed intact as he pulled out the aforementioned price... along with one, small glass vial filled with powder, the size of his little finger. It had a cork stopper, and for all intents and purposes, was not at all extraordinary in appearance. But what it contained was crushed fennel powder, called maratho back at home in Phossis. Usually, physicians would prescribe it to cure gastroentestinal issues, an upset stomach, or even used in cooking. Kreios's extensive testing with the herb however, meant he found greater usage for the herb, in its crushed powder form. For the purpose of eyesight, he used a bigger variety of the fennel seeds, and grinded it with almonds and sugar, and offered it to many of his richer clientele whose eyesight was going, along with gooseberry juice.
And now, this was going to get him a hound.
Holding the glass vial up, Kreios's smile was confident as he offered the boy both the sugh and the vial on the palm of hishand. "One sugh... and your eyesight's improvement. For the dog." he let his dark gaze flick down to the vial, knowing full well, or rather, hoping the boy should know better then to assume one small vial would cure his deteriorating eyesight. Kreios would offer more... but only if Hazael took his offer.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The boy's reaction piqued Kreios's curiosity - as did the immediate rejection of his purchase. What, did he not want to earn coin? Kreios had coin and precious gems in abundance from his sales and trading with various people across Greece, Africa and other continents when he deemed to travel further. He could offer any price, yet the merchant did not see why the mutt was worth such a hefty price, or priceless, according to the boy's reaction.
His brows had furrowed when the boy seemed to panic enough that he would knock over a tray, the beads toppled to the ground, falling all over the floors.
But what caught the male's attention after was not the fact that the boy had been panicked by his offer. Instead, Kreios's mind churned as he saw the way the boy crouched, his sharp mind catching on far more then a regular person would. The way in which the boy was closer to the ground, squinting as he scrambled for the fallen goods, and missing out the beads that almost blended in to the color of the ground. Anyone with regular functioning human sight would be able to see the difference between ground and bead... but perhaps he did not have such an ability.
A smile immediately quirked up one corner of Kreios' lips, a sly one as a plan formed in his mind. Judging from the scrambling, hurried way in which the poor boy worked, it was obvious there would be consequences he would face should he fail at his task. Bending down himself, Kreios swept up a few of the beads Hazael had missed, just as the boy muttered in a voice he would've missed had he not been closer. Not for sale? Well well. He underestimated Kreios's ability, then.
Straightening up as the boy glared upwards, Kreios's smile stayed intact as he pulled out the aforementioned price... along with one, small glass vial filled with powder, the size of his little finger. It had a cork stopper, and for all intents and purposes, was not at all extraordinary in appearance. But what it contained was crushed fennel powder, called maratho back at home in Phossis. Usually, physicians would prescribe it to cure gastroentestinal issues, an upset stomach, or even used in cooking. Kreios's extensive testing with the herb however, meant he found greater usage for the herb, in its crushed powder form. For the purpose of eyesight, he used a bigger variety of the fennel seeds, and grinded it with almonds and sugar, and offered it to many of his richer clientele whose eyesight was going, along with gooseberry juice.
And now, this was going to get him a hound.
Holding the glass vial up, Kreios's smile was confident as he offered the boy both the sugh and the vial on the palm of hishand. "One sugh... and your eyesight's improvement. For the dog." he let his dark gaze flick down to the vial, knowing full well, or rather, hoping the boy should know better then to assume one small vial would cure his deteriorating eyesight. Kreios would offer more... but only if Hazael took his offer.
The boy's reaction piqued Kreios's curiosity - as did the immediate rejection of his purchase. What, did he not want to earn coin? Kreios had coin and precious gems in abundance from his sales and trading with various people across Greece, Africa and other continents when he deemed to travel further. He could offer any price, yet the merchant did not see why the mutt was worth such a hefty price, or priceless, according to the boy's reaction.
His brows had furrowed when the boy seemed to panic enough that he would knock over a tray, the beads toppled to the ground, falling all over the floors.
But what caught the male's attention after was not the fact that the boy had been panicked by his offer. Instead, Kreios's mind churned as he saw the way the boy crouched, his sharp mind catching on far more then a regular person would. The way in which the boy was closer to the ground, squinting as he scrambled for the fallen goods, and missing out the beads that almost blended in to the color of the ground. Anyone with regular functioning human sight would be able to see the difference between ground and bead... but perhaps he did not have such an ability.
A smile immediately quirked up one corner of Kreios' lips, a sly one as a plan formed in his mind. Judging from the scrambling, hurried way in which the poor boy worked, it was obvious there would be consequences he would face should he fail at his task. Bending down himself, Kreios swept up a few of the beads Hazael had missed, just as the boy muttered in a voice he would've missed had he not been closer. Not for sale? Well well. He underestimated Kreios's ability, then.
Straightening up as the boy glared upwards, Kreios's smile stayed intact as he pulled out the aforementioned price... along with one, small glass vial filled with powder, the size of his little finger. It had a cork stopper, and for all intents and purposes, was not at all extraordinary in appearance. But what it contained was crushed fennel powder, called maratho back at home in Phossis. Usually, physicians would prescribe it to cure gastroentestinal issues, an upset stomach, or even used in cooking. Kreios's extensive testing with the herb however, meant he found greater usage for the herb, in its crushed powder form. For the purpose of eyesight, he used a bigger variety of the fennel seeds, and grinded it with almonds and sugar, and offered it to many of his richer clientele whose eyesight was going, along with gooseberry juice.
And now, this was going to get him a hound.
Holding the glass vial up, Kreios's smile was confident as he offered the boy both the sugh and the vial on the palm of hishand. "One sugh... and your eyesight's improvement. For the dog." he let his dark gaze flick down to the vial, knowing full well, or rather, hoping the boy should know better then to assume one small vial would cure his deteriorating eyesight. Kreios would offer more... but only if Hazael took his offer.
When Kreios reached down to help Hazael collect the beads, the boy immediately moved slightly away from him. His cheeks were red both from the frustration and embarrassment that he had made such a mess and now the *customer* was the one helping him clean it up. The Grecian wasn’t supposed to do that, but then again Hazael wasn’t supposed to make a mess of the family wares either. It was just his rotten luck to be the klutzy one of his family, of course.
Though a part of him knew that at least part of his tendency to trip over things wasn’t due to his unsteady feet. He may not be all that bright, but he wasn’t dumb either. Hazael was aware that there were things that he could not see. Little Benaiah had been pointing things out that Hazael missed and he lost count of how many times Nissa had found bugs on his dogs that he had overlooked. So, it wasn’t too shocking when Kreios dumped a few of the missed beads back into the basket. Hazael glanced away so that the man wouldn’t have to see his angry expression.
That was the closest thing to a thank you that Kreios was going to get.
Hazael didn’t say anything but instead chose to only glare at Kreios when the older man reached into his bag after standing up. For a moment, the young Judean thought that the Grecian may have been reaching into his bag to pull out the silver piece to pay for the flatbread. However, he wasn’t all that surprised when the man pulled out a little glass vial instead. His glare turned into a scowl as his gaze dropped down, muttering curses under his breath. Of course, the Grecian would try to weasel his way out of paying for the bread. They were nothing, but scoundrels who looked down upon Judeans like him. Why it was probably likely if this man might not even have the funds to pay for the bread at this point. After all, he had made no indication of doing so thus far and to think that this man had demanded his dog on top of it!
Kreios had to be out of his mind if he thought that would fly.
“We don’t accept trades. One sugh.” He said with voice practically dripping in annoyance. He didn’t have time to deal with this kind of thing, not when his father could return any minute. That would be just what the boy needed on top of all of this, a berating speech from his father for “mistreating” a customer. Hazael didn’t want to have to deal with that because of this man. Especially not when he had a sinking feeling that Avriam would make his son sell the dog anyways.
In an effort to keep the situation from escalating further, just in an effort to get Kreios out the door faster, Hazael turned away from the man as he pushed himself off the ground. Without so much as glancing at the Grecian, he then turned his attention to putting the small display of beads back on the pedestal. Although he would never admit it, the boy spent a few more moments on this task than he should have. However, there really wasn’t all that much to fuss with so it didn’t take that long before Hazael was forced to refocus on Kreios.
Turning around, Hazael didn’t bother to hide his annoyance when he saw that the man was still trying to peddle the vial onto the boy. He countered the man’s unnerving grin with a deep scowl as he started to say, “I already told you --” But was quickly stunned into silence when Kreios hinted at what the vial was for.
His expression immediately softened into foolish, optimistic hope at the sound of his eyesight improving. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for the chance to not be so klutzy for once in his life? He couldn’t even process the prospect of being able to see properly. It had always been a foolish daydream that he knew would never happen, but if what this man said was true….
It wasn’t, the logical side of his brain gently reminded himself as his expression hardened again. It couldn’t be. There was no possible way. However, he couldn’t help, but entertain the notion with a childish curiosity. What if this man could actually deliver on what he promised?
“And how on earth would that even work? He asked skeptically, trying hard to hide the fact that was intrigued by what the man was offering. It seemed incredibly unlikely, but Hazael was secretly so desperate for any sort of improvement that he was willing to momentarily suspend what his brain told him. He waited for an answer, ready to hang onto every word of whatever this magical cure was that the man was offering.
It hadn’t even crossed his mind once that it would come at the cost of his dog.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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When Kreios reached down to help Hazael collect the beads, the boy immediately moved slightly away from him. His cheeks were red both from the frustration and embarrassment that he had made such a mess and now the *customer* was the one helping him clean it up. The Grecian wasn’t supposed to do that, but then again Hazael wasn’t supposed to make a mess of the family wares either. It was just his rotten luck to be the klutzy one of his family, of course.
Though a part of him knew that at least part of his tendency to trip over things wasn’t due to his unsteady feet. He may not be all that bright, but he wasn’t dumb either. Hazael was aware that there were things that he could not see. Little Benaiah had been pointing things out that Hazael missed and he lost count of how many times Nissa had found bugs on his dogs that he had overlooked. So, it wasn’t too shocking when Kreios dumped a few of the missed beads back into the basket. Hazael glanced away so that the man wouldn’t have to see his angry expression.
That was the closest thing to a thank you that Kreios was going to get.
Hazael didn’t say anything but instead chose to only glare at Kreios when the older man reached into his bag after standing up. For a moment, the young Judean thought that the Grecian may have been reaching into his bag to pull out the silver piece to pay for the flatbread. However, he wasn’t all that surprised when the man pulled out a little glass vial instead. His glare turned into a scowl as his gaze dropped down, muttering curses under his breath. Of course, the Grecian would try to weasel his way out of paying for the bread. They were nothing, but scoundrels who looked down upon Judeans like him. Why it was probably likely if this man might not even have the funds to pay for the bread at this point. After all, he had made no indication of doing so thus far and to think that this man had demanded his dog on top of it!
Kreios had to be out of his mind if he thought that would fly.
“We don’t accept trades. One sugh.” He said with voice practically dripping in annoyance. He didn’t have time to deal with this kind of thing, not when his father could return any minute. That would be just what the boy needed on top of all of this, a berating speech from his father for “mistreating” a customer. Hazael didn’t want to have to deal with that because of this man. Especially not when he had a sinking feeling that Avriam would make his son sell the dog anyways.
In an effort to keep the situation from escalating further, just in an effort to get Kreios out the door faster, Hazael turned away from the man as he pushed himself off the ground. Without so much as glancing at the Grecian, he then turned his attention to putting the small display of beads back on the pedestal. Although he would never admit it, the boy spent a few more moments on this task than he should have. However, there really wasn’t all that much to fuss with so it didn’t take that long before Hazael was forced to refocus on Kreios.
Turning around, Hazael didn’t bother to hide his annoyance when he saw that the man was still trying to peddle the vial onto the boy. He countered the man’s unnerving grin with a deep scowl as he started to say, “I already told you --” But was quickly stunned into silence when Kreios hinted at what the vial was for.
His expression immediately softened into foolish, optimistic hope at the sound of his eyesight improving. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for the chance to not be so klutzy for once in his life? He couldn’t even process the prospect of being able to see properly. It had always been a foolish daydream that he knew would never happen, but if what this man said was true….
It wasn’t, the logical side of his brain gently reminded himself as his expression hardened again. It couldn’t be. There was no possible way. However, he couldn’t help, but entertain the notion with a childish curiosity. What if this man could actually deliver on what he promised?
“And how on earth would that even work? He asked skeptically, trying hard to hide the fact that was intrigued by what the man was offering. It seemed incredibly unlikely, but Hazael was secretly so desperate for any sort of improvement that he was willing to momentarily suspend what his brain told him. He waited for an answer, ready to hang onto every word of whatever this magical cure was that the man was offering.
It hadn’t even crossed his mind once that it would come at the cost of his dog.
When Kreios reached down to help Hazael collect the beads, the boy immediately moved slightly away from him. His cheeks were red both from the frustration and embarrassment that he had made such a mess and now the *customer* was the one helping him clean it up. The Grecian wasn’t supposed to do that, but then again Hazael wasn’t supposed to make a mess of the family wares either. It was just his rotten luck to be the klutzy one of his family, of course.
Though a part of him knew that at least part of his tendency to trip over things wasn’t due to his unsteady feet. He may not be all that bright, but he wasn’t dumb either. Hazael was aware that there were things that he could not see. Little Benaiah had been pointing things out that Hazael missed and he lost count of how many times Nissa had found bugs on his dogs that he had overlooked. So, it wasn’t too shocking when Kreios dumped a few of the missed beads back into the basket. Hazael glanced away so that the man wouldn’t have to see his angry expression.
That was the closest thing to a thank you that Kreios was going to get.
Hazael didn’t say anything but instead chose to only glare at Kreios when the older man reached into his bag after standing up. For a moment, the young Judean thought that the Grecian may have been reaching into his bag to pull out the silver piece to pay for the flatbread. However, he wasn’t all that surprised when the man pulled out a little glass vial instead. His glare turned into a scowl as his gaze dropped down, muttering curses under his breath. Of course, the Grecian would try to weasel his way out of paying for the bread. They were nothing, but scoundrels who looked down upon Judeans like him. Why it was probably likely if this man might not even have the funds to pay for the bread at this point. After all, he had made no indication of doing so thus far and to think that this man had demanded his dog on top of it!
Kreios had to be out of his mind if he thought that would fly.
“We don’t accept trades. One sugh.” He said with voice practically dripping in annoyance. He didn’t have time to deal with this kind of thing, not when his father could return any minute. That would be just what the boy needed on top of all of this, a berating speech from his father for “mistreating” a customer. Hazael didn’t want to have to deal with that because of this man. Especially not when he had a sinking feeling that Avriam would make his son sell the dog anyways.
In an effort to keep the situation from escalating further, just in an effort to get Kreios out the door faster, Hazael turned away from the man as he pushed himself off the ground. Without so much as glancing at the Grecian, he then turned his attention to putting the small display of beads back on the pedestal. Although he would never admit it, the boy spent a few more moments on this task than he should have. However, there really wasn’t all that much to fuss with so it didn’t take that long before Hazael was forced to refocus on Kreios.
Turning around, Hazael didn’t bother to hide his annoyance when he saw that the man was still trying to peddle the vial onto the boy. He countered the man’s unnerving grin with a deep scowl as he started to say, “I already told you --” But was quickly stunned into silence when Kreios hinted at what the vial was for.
His expression immediately softened into foolish, optimistic hope at the sound of his eyesight improving. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for the chance to not be so klutzy for once in his life? He couldn’t even process the prospect of being able to see properly. It had always been a foolish daydream that he knew would never happen, but if what this man said was true….
It wasn’t, the logical side of his brain gently reminded himself as his expression hardened again. It couldn’t be. There was no possible way. However, he couldn’t help, but entertain the notion with a childish curiosity. What if this man could actually deliver on what he promised?
“And how on earth would that even work? He asked skeptically, trying hard to hide the fact that was intrigued by what the man was offering. It seemed incredibly unlikely, but Hazael was secretly so desperate for any sort of improvement that he was willing to momentarily suspend what his brain told him. He waited for an answer, ready to hang onto every word of whatever this magical cure was that the man was offering.
It hadn’t even crossed his mind once that it would come at the cost of his dog.
Kreios was used to being on the receiving end of hatred from the very people he did his business with. It was an occupational hazard at this point, and one that Kreios was quite used to at this point. He cared not whether he was liked, he simply wanted his wares and business, and would go quite happily along his way so long as his profits and revenue were not compromised. As such, the dirty look that the Judean boy did not phase him at all.
He was a stubborn one though, that much Kreios could see. In a way, he had to commend him for having such a firm stance in his wares? Kreios had met many who could easily waver by offering them a rare gem or two he's found in Colchis or Taengea which can't be found in the African realm. But what he did not know, was that the merchant was a specialist in knowing exactly what others wanted? No, he did not posess some innate ability to ready people's mind, but what Kreios was, was highly observant. Rarely did anything slip past his notice, and it was all the bits and pieces of information he gathered from his observations, he used to form a decision, and execute an action.
He always made an offer people cannot resist.
The dark onyxian gaze of the merchant's sparkled when the boy seemed stunned - did he expect to be cheated? Kreios was a man of his word, and while he was not someone who was of great repute within the world of business and trades, no one would ever call him a cheat or a scoundrel. He could see the Judean's face soften - was that hope? Well, never fault him for selling hope, if only for a short while. Kreios wouldn't say he could cure his eyesight - but prolonging the inevidable he could do, if for a short time.
Nodding, he placed the glass vial on a flat surface, speaking as he did so. "One spoonful everyday, mixed with a mug of cold gooseberry juice. The powder is a mixture maratho... fennel powder, with a few other ingredients that would strengthen eyesight, amongst other health benefits. It would not perform miracles, of course... but in time, benefits will come." The words were finished with a soft, almost mysterious smile, slipping his hands into his pockets, he pulled out a silver coin, and slid it next to the vial. "And the sugh, of course, for the bread."
Kreios allowed the boy to think, silence blanketing the two as he was sure much was to be processed within his head, before he spoke again. "I have more on my ship, and I can have my servant deliver it should you wish to take my offer of course. Enough of my concoction to last you a year... for that dog."
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Kreios was used to being on the receiving end of hatred from the very people he did his business with. It was an occupational hazard at this point, and one that Kreios was quite used to at this point. He cared not whether he was liked, he simply wanted his wares and business, and would go quite happily along his way so long as his profits and revenue were not compromised. As such, the dirty look that the Judean boy did not phase him at all.
He was a stubborn one though, that much Kreios could see. In a way, he had to commend him for having such a firm stance in his wares? Kreios had met many who could easily waver by offering them a rare gem or two he's found in Colchis or Taengea which can't be found in the African realm. But what he did not know, was that the merchant was a specialist in knowing exactly what others wanted? No, he did not posess some innate ability to ready people's mind, but what Kreios was, was highly observant. Rarely did anything slip past his notice, and it was all the bits and pieces of information he gathered from his observations, he used to form a decision, and execute an action.
He always made an offer people cannot resist.
The dark onyxian gaze of the merchant's sparkled when the boy seemed stunned - did he expect to be cheated? Kreios was a man of his word, and while he was not someone who was of great repute within the world of business and trades, no one would ever call him a cheat or a scoundrel. He could see the Judean's face soften - was that hope? Well, never fault him for selling hope, if only for a short while. Kreios wouldn't say he could cure his eyesight - but prolonging the inevidable he could do, if for a short time.
Nodding, he placed the glass vial on a flat surface, speaking as he did so. "One spoonful everyday, mixed with a mug of cold gooseberry juice. The powder is a mixture maratho... fennel powder, with a few other ingredients that would strengthen eyesight, amongst other health benefits. It would not perform miracles, of course... but in time, benefits will come." The words were finished with a soft, almost mysterious smile, slipping his hands into his pockets, he pulled out a silver coin, and slid it next to the vial. "And the sugh, of course, for the bread."
Kreios allowed the boy to think, silence blanketing the two as he was sure much was to be processed within his head, before he spoke again. "I have more on my ship, and I can have my servant deliver it should you wish to take my offer of course. Enough of my concoction to last you a year... for that dog."
Kreios was used to being on the receiving end of hatred from the very people he did his business with. It was an occupational hazard at this point, and one that Kreios was quite used to at this point. He cared not whether he was liked, he simply wanted his wares and business, and would go quite happily along his way so long as his profits and revenue were not compromised. As such, the dirty look that the Judean boy did not phase him at all.
He was a stubborn one though, that much Kreios could see. In a way, he had to commend him for having such a firm stance in his wares? Kreios had met many who could easily waver by offering them a rare gem or two he's found in Colchis or Taengea which can't be found in the African realm. But what he did not know, was that the merchant was a specialist in knowing exactly what others wanted? No, he did not posess some innate ability to ready people's mind, but what Kreios was, was highly observant. Rarely did anything slip past his notice, and it was all the bits and pieces of information he gathered from his observations, he used to form a decision, and execute an action.
He always made an offer people cannot resist.
The dark onyxian gaze of the merchant's sparkled when the boy seemed stunned - did he expect to be cheated? Kreios was a man of his word, and while he was not someone who was of great repute within the world of business and trades, no one would ever call him a cheat or a scoundrel. He could see the Judean's face soften - was that hope? Well, never fault him for selling hope, if only for a short while. Kreios wouldn't say he could cure his eyesight - but prolonging the inevidable he could do, if for a short time.
Nodding, he placed the glass vial on a flat surface, speaking as he did so. "One spoonful everyday, mixed with a mug of cold gooseberry juice. The powder is a mixture maratho... fennel powder, with a few other ingredients that would strengthen eyesight, amongst other health benefits. It would not perform miracles, of course... but in time, benefits will come." The words were finished with a soft, almost mysterious smile, slipping his hands into his pockets, he pulled out a silver coin, and slid it next to the vial. "And the sugh, of course, for the bread."
Kreios allowed the boy to think, silence blanketing the two as he was sure much was to be processed within his head, before he spoke again. "I have more on my ship, and I can have my servant deliver it should you wish to take my offer of course. Enough of my concoction to last you a year... for that dog."
Hazael wasn’t angry per se with Kreios. If anything, he was only being fairly defensive against this man who was wanting to buy the boy’s dog from him without any regards to what Hazael thought. After all, it was his dog and this was his family’s shop. Who was Kreios to waltz in and start demanding things that weren’t for sale? Truthfully, it was a rather rude thing for the man to do and given Hazael’s ingrained perceptions about the Greeks turned this overstep into a full-blown insult in the boy’s mind.
Did the Grecians really think so little of his people that they believed that they were above manners?
Hazael knew his father would say yes, but the man would also be a hypocrite as Kreios would have walked away long ago with the dog if Avriam had been here. There was no question about that and it wouldn’t have mattered what the boy thought. It was a bit sad actually as it was likely that Hazael was the only one here who was looking out for the dog’s best interests as he saw the canine not as a thing to be traded, but another of God’s creatures just like him and Kreios. Hazael didn’t know this Greek. He didn’t know what kind of life he could provide the beast or even what the man planned to do with him. Kreios’s cold exterior and carefully guarded expressions didn’t do much to give Hazael insight to this either. So, it was little wonder Hazael was so resistant to giving the man his dog. He was even bordering on defensive even over any attempts by the Taengean to sell him the dog.
But the offer Kreios made had Hazael’s resolve cracking.
He didn’t like to admit that there was a problem with his eyes. It was a weakness he knew that his father and brother would use against him. In fact, it was a secret fear of his that they would learn of how Levana’s oldest son couldn’t see and they would use it to cast him out of the family. This may seem rather extreme, but given how the rest of his family essentially saw Hazael as a bumbling fool who cared more dogs than people… it didn’t really seem all that far fetched to Hazael.
So, the promise that he could perhaps improve his eyesight… It was beyond tempting to him.
What made this way was that it was so much more to him than just being able to see shapes clearly. For Hazael, this was a chance to redeem himself in his family’s eyes. He wouldn’t be the family burden anymore. He wouldn’t have to spend all of his time in the kennel so that he wouldn’t get in the way. Perhaps maybe he could even start being able to do more around the shop, making him an ideal heir for the business in Avriam’s eyes for when his father succeeded in securing the Israeli Manheeg for themselves. (It was talked about so often with such certainty that any other possibility just simply seemed impossible.) Most importantly though, for Hazael, fixing his eyes meant that he had a chance of acceptance in his family dynamic. He wouldn’t be so much of an outcast and for that alone, Hazael would give almost anything.
But the Deerhound was also equally valuable to Hazael for the worth it would bring to his kennels. The dog clearly had desirable traits that might raise the value of any pups he sired. Plus, not to mention he was just starting to make progress in taming the dog. Thanks to the effort he put in, the dog was calmer than he had been when Hazael first got him and even though they hadn’t started any sort of training yet, he was almost at the point of being capable of that. Trading away the dog would mean all that work was for nothing in addition to the financial loss.
It was a tough decision and Hazael didn’t want to have to choose.
The silence settled over them as Hazael carefully regarded Kreios’s words and considered what he was offering. Oddly enough, the man’s calming presence somehow temporarily set aside Hazael’s natural suspicions of the man, allowing him to seriously consider his options without biases influencing him. The boy was on the fence unsure if what the potions peddler had to say was truly worth selling his dog over. Once the man offered a year’s supply though, the choice became clear to his heart even though his brain, which had a small part of it still questioning it all even as all of his other thoughts were drowning it out, told him a different story.
“Alright.” Hazael said quietly without even realizing he spoke up at all. He extended his hand to Kreios to seal the deal, but before the Grecian could clasp his outstretched hand, he added, “But they bring it here first. I’ll send them back with m-- the dog.” He was strangely far more subdued now as he reached out for the vial with his other hand. Had he really just now decided was it was worth just as much as the hound snoring nearby, who was completely unaware of what had just occurred?
Hazael already knew that he regretted what he had done, but the promise of fixing his eyesight was too great to be ignored. He just had to hope now that what the man had offered had been worth it.
And if it wasn’t? Why that would be only another item to add to his ever-growing list of why he didn’t like Greeks like Kreios.
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Hazael wasn’t angry per se with Kreios. If anything, he was only being fairly defensive against this man who was wanting to buy the boy’s dog from him without any regards to what Hazael thought. After all, it was his dog and this was his family’s shop. Who was Kreios to waltz in and start demanding things that weren’t for sale? Truthfully, it was a rather rude thing for the man to do and given Hazael’s ingrained perceptions about the Greeks turned this overstep into a full-blown insult in the boy’s mind.
Did the Grecians really think so little of his people that they believed that they were above manners?
Hazael knew his father would say yes, but the man would also be a hypocrite as Kreios would have walked away long ago with the dog if Avriam had been here. There was no question about that and it wouldn’t have mattered what the boy thought. It was a bit sad actually as it was likely that Hazael was the only one here who was looking out for the dog’s best interests as he saw the canine not as a thing to be traded, but another of God’s creatures just like him and Kreios. Hazael didn’t know this Greek. He didn’t know what kind of life he could provide the beast or even what the man planned to do with him. Kreios’s cold exterior and carefully guarded expressions didn’t do much to give Hazael insight to this either. So, it was little wonder Hazael was so resistant to giving the man his dog. He was even bordering on defensive even over any attempts by the Taengean to sell him the dog.
But the offer Kreios made had Hazael’s resolve cracking.
He didn’t like to admit that there was a problem with his eyes. It was a weakness he knew that his father and brother would use against him. In fact, it was a secret fear of his that they would learn of how Levana’s oldest son couldn’t see and they would use it to cast him out of the family. This may seem rather extreme, but given how the rest of his family essentially saw Hazael as a bumbling fool who cared more dogs than people… it didn’t really seem all that far fetched to Hazael.
So, the promise that he could perhaps improve his eyesight… It was beyond tempting to him.
What made this way was that it was so much more to him than just being able to see shapes clearly. For Hazael, this was a chance to redeem himself in his family’s eyes. He wouldn’t be the family burden anymore. He wouldn’t have to spend all of his time in the kennel so that he wouldn’t get in the way. Perhaps maybe he could even start being able to do more around the shop, making him an ideal heir for the business in Avriam’s eyes for when his father succeeded in securing the Israeli Manheeg for themselves. (It was talked about so often with such certainty that any other possibility just simply seemed impossible.) Most importantly though, for Hazael, fixing his eyes meant that he had a chance of acceptance in his family dynamic. He wouldn’t be so much of an outcast and for that alone, Hazael would give almost anything.
But the Deerhound was also equally valuable to Hazael for the worth it would bring to his kennels. The dog clearly had desirable traits that might raise the value of any pups he sired. Plus, not to mention he was just starting to make progress in taming the dog. Thanks to the effort he put in, the dog was calmer than he had been when Hazael first got him and even though they hadn’t started any sort of training yet, he was almost at the point of being capable of that. Trading away the dog would mean all that work was for nothing in addition to the financial loss.
It was a tough decision and Hazael didn’t want to have to choose.
The silence settled over them as Hazael carefully regarded Kreios’s words and considered what he was offering. Oddly enough, the man’s calming presence somehow temporarily set aside Hazael’s natural suspicions of the man, allowing him to seriously consider his options without biases influencing him. The boy was on the fence unsure if what the potions peddler had to say was truly worth selling his dog over. Once the man offered a year’s supply though, the choice became clear to his heart even though his brain, which had a small part of it still questioning it all even as all of his other thoughts were drowning it out, told him a different story.
“Alright.” Hazael said quietly without even realizing he spoke up at all. He extended his hand to Kreios to seal the deal, but before the Grecian could clasp his outstretched hand, he added, “But they bring it here first. I’ll send them back with m-- the dog.” He was strangely far more subdued now as he reached out for the vial with his other hand. Had he really just now decided was it was worth just as much as the hound snoring nearby, who was completely unaware of what had just occurred?
Hazael already knew that he regretted what he had done, but the promise of fixing his eyesight was too great to be ignored. He just had to hope now that what the man had offered had been worth it.
And if it wasn’t? Why that would be only another item to add to his ever-growing list of why he didn’t like Greeks like Kreios.
Hazael wasn’t angry per se with Kreios. If anything, he was only being fairly defensive against this man who was wanting to buy the boy’s dog from him without any regards to what Hazael thought. After all, it was his dog and this was his family’s shop. Who was Kreios to waltz in and start demanding things that weren’t for sale? Truthfully, it was a rather rude thing for the man to do and given Hazael’s ingrained perceptions about the Greeks turned this overstep into a full-blown insult in the boy’s mind.
Did the Grecians really think so little of his people that they believed that they were above manners?
Hazael knew his father would say yes, but the man would also be a hypocrite as Kreios would have walked away long ago with the dog if Avriam had been here. There was no question about that and it wouldn’t have mattered what the boy thought. It was a bit sad actually as it was likely that Hazael was the only one here who was looking out for the dog’s best interests as he saw the canine not as a thing to be traded, but another of God’s creatures just like him and Kreios. Hazael didn’t know this Greek. He didn’t know what kind of life he could provide the beast or even what the man planned to do with him. Kreios’s cold exterior and carefully guarded expressions didn’t do much to give Hazael insight to this either. So, it was little wonder Hazael was so resistant to giving the man his dog. He was even bordering on defensive even over any attempts by the Taengean to sell him the dog.
But the offer Kreios made had Hazael’s resolve cracking.
He didn’t like to admit that there was a problem with his eyes. It was a weakness he knew that his father and brother would use against him. In fact, it was a secret fear of his that they would learn of how Levana’s oldest son couldn’t see and they would use it to cast him out of the family. This may seem rather extreme, but given how the rest of his family essentially saw Hazael as a bumbling fool who cared more dogs than people… it didn’t really seem all that far fetched to Hazael.
So, the promise that he could perhaps improve his eyesight… It was beyond tempting to him.
What made this way was that it was so much more to him than just being able to see shapes clearly. For Hazael, this was a chance to redeem himself in his family’s eyes. He wouldn’t be the family burden anymore. He wouldn’t have to spend all of his time in the kennel so that he wouldn’t get in the way. Perhaps maybe he could even start being able to do more around the shop, making him an ideal heir for the business in Avriam’s eyes for when his father succeeded in securing the Israeli Manheeg for themselves. (It was talked about so often with such certainty that any other possibility just simply seemed impossible.) Most importantly though, for Hazael, fixing his eyes meant that he had a chance of acceptance in his family dynamic. He wouldn’t be so much of an outcast and for that alone, Hazael would give almost anything.
But the Deerhound was also equally valuable to Hazael for the worth it would bring to his kennels. The dog clearly had desirable traits that might raise the value of any pups he sired. Plus, not to mention he was just starting to make progress in taming the dog. Thanks to the effort he put in, the dog was calmer than he had been when Hazael first got him and even though they hadn’t started any sort of training yet, he was almost at the point of being capable of that. Trading away the dog would mean all that work was for nothing in addition to the financial loss.
It was a tough decision and Hazael didn’t want to have to choose.
The silence settled over them as Hazael carefully regarded Kreios’s words and considered what he was offering. Oddly enough, the man’s calming presence somehow temporarily set aside Hazael’s natural suspicions of the man, allowing him to seriously consider his options without biases influencing him. The boy was on the fence unsure if what the potions peddler had to say was truly worth selling his dog over. Once the man offered a year’s supply though, the choice became clear to his heart even though his brain, which had a small part of it still questioning it all even as all of his other thoughts were drowning it out, told him a different story.
“Alright.” Hazael said quietly without even realizing he spoke up at all. He extended his hand to Kreios to seal the deal, but before the Grecian could clasp his outstretched hand, he added, “But they bring it here first. I’ll send them back with m-- the dog.” He was strangely far more subdued now as he reached out for the vial with his other hand. Had he really just now decided was it was worth just as much as the hound snoring nearby, who was completely unaware of what had just occurred?
Hazael already knew that he regretted what he had done, but the promise of fixing his eyesight was too great to be ignored. He just had to hope now that what the man had offered had been worth it.
And if it wasn’t? Why that would be only another item to add to his ever-growing list of why he didn’t like Greeks like Kreios.
Bingo.
If there was anything Kreios knew, it was how to give people exactly what they wanted. If he had been the generous sort, Kreios would have been a splendid gift giver. Instead, he was born with an inherent streak to earn money, and the capability to reach his greedy, lofty aims for gold. He would never pass up a chance to earn some coin, and this was one of those - or rather, well, an instance where he wanted something and knew how he could get it.
Smirking when Hazael finally gave in, Kreios could see the exact moment the little Judean boy made his decision. His palm was firm when he took the extended hand of the other to seal the deal, allowing the small vial to be taken by the other. Consider it a gift of sorts, however small it was. "I will have it sent and delivered by sundown. And they will return with the dog." he murmured, the low tone in which was said more then enough to serve as a warning that there would be consequences if Kreios finds that he was cheated in anyway. The merchant had plans with the pup he was purchasing, and he did not intend to allow a little boy to cheat him of his plans.
Turning on his heels, he did not offer Hazael a second smile as he walked off to make the necessary arrangements. By evening, Hazael would receive two servant boys on his doorstep, one of the two being Descat himself. With them, would be two crates, one containing four large jars of the aforementioned powder mix that Hazael would need to mix with the gooseberry juice that the poison merchant had also provided in the other crate. The young servant boy would also provide the Judean male with a homing pigeon, along with instructions on how to reach Kreios should he need to replenish his supply. While it was no sure cure, it would help to deter the effects of his failing eyesight by quite a little, and that was as much as Kreios could play God when it came to humanly bodies.
In return, Descat would not return without the deerhound that Kreios had specifically instructed the slave boy to return with. His slave was nothing if not loyal, and knew that if he did not follow instructions, the consequences would be severe.
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Check out their information page here.
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Check out their information page here.
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Bingo.
If there was anything Kreios knew, it was how to give people exactly what they wanted. If he had been the generous sort, Kreios would have been a splendid gift giver. Instead, he was born with an inherent streak to earn money, and the capability to reach his greedy, lofty aims for gold. He would never pass up a chance to earn some coin, and this was one of those - or rather, well, an instance where he wanted something and knew how he could get it.
Smirking when Hazael finally gave in, Kreios could see the exact moment the little Judean boy made his decision. His palm was firm when he took the extended hand of the other to seal the deal, allowing the small vial to be taken by the other. Consider it a gift of sorts, however small it was. "I will have it sent and delivered by sundown. And they will return with the dog." he murmured, the low tone in which was said more then enough to serve as a warning that there would be consequences if Kreios finds that he was cheated in anyway. The merchant had plans with the pup he was purchasing, and he did not intend to allow a little boy to cheat him of his plans.
Turning on his heels, he did not offer Hazael a second smile as he walked off to make the necessary arrangements. By evening, Hazael would receive two servant boys on his doorstep, one of the two being Descat himself. With them, would be two crates, one containing four large jars of the aforementioned powder mix that Hazael would need to mix with the gooseberry juice that the poison merchant had also provided in the other crate. The young servant boy would also provide the Judean male with a homing pigeon, along with instructions on how to reach Kreios should he need to replenish his supply. While it was no sure cure, it would help to deter the effects of his failing eyesight by quite a little, and that was as much as Kreios could play God when it came to humanly bodies.
In return, Descat would not return without the deerhound that Kreios had specifically instructed the slave boy to return with. His slave was nothing if not loyal, and knew that if he did not follow instructions, the consequences would be severe.
Bingo.
If there was anything Kreios knew, it was how to give people exactly what they wanted. If he had been the generous sort, Kreios would have been a splendid gift giver. Instead, he was born with an inherent streak to earn money, and the capability to reach his greedy, lofty aims for gold. He would never pass up a chance to earn some coin, and this was one of those - or rather, well, an instance where he wanted something and knew how he could get it.
Smirking when Hazael finally gave in, Kreios could see the exact moment the little Judean boy made his decision. His palm was firm when he took the extended hand of the other to seal the deal, allowing the small vial to be taken by the other. Consider it a gift of sorts, however small it was. "I will have it sent and delivered by sundown. And they will return with the dog." he murmured, the low tone in which was said more then enough to serve as a warning that there would be consequences if Kreios finds that he was cheated in anyway. The merchant had plans with the pup he was purchasing, and he did not intend to allow a little boy to cheat him of his plans.
Turning on his heels, he did not offer Hazael a second smile as he walked off to make the necessary arrangements. By evening, Hazael would receive two servant boys on his doorstep, one of the two being Descat himself. With them, would be two crates, one containing four large jars of the aforementioned powder mix that Hazael would need to mix with the gooseberry juice that the poison merchant had also provided in the other crate. The young servant boy would also provide the Judean male with a homing pigeon, along with instructions on how to reach Kreios should he need to replenish his supply. While it was no sure cure, it would help to deter the effects of his failing eyesight by quite a little, and that was as much as Kreios could play God when it came to humanly bodies.
In return, Descat would not return without the deerhound that Kreios had specifically instructed the slave boy to return with. His slave was nothing if not loyal, and knew that if he did not follow instructions, the consequences would be severe.
