Troublesome Sigil...

[*MarkHagbarth]

Darion jumped down from the roof. He landed firmly on his feet, greeted an old man walking by, and looked around.
He was now at the Great Bazaar. Perfect.
"So i actually remembered the way..." he mumbled with a smirk.
He had been at the Hive Ward and of course gotten himself into trouble with some thugs, and after trying to convince them to not take his gold, which failed, he made a run for it, and made it to the roofs of the city.
"Damn bastards.. trying to take me down and steal the gold i collected for the orphanage." said he, not with a smirk this time.
He proceeded to Khazeet's bar and sat down on a chair.

He sighed and looked around.

[*Pashan01]

A certain tiny form in a wee blue dress, with impish grin spotted red-hair at the bar.

She flits up, translucent wings seeming never to stop beating, and plonks herself lightly to sit upon the low stone wall pillar not far from where Darion sits to that chair.

"Yoohoo....hey mister...whacha doin? Can buy me a honey spice if ye like " Piri gives the 'fella' a cheeky sly grin with a flutter of lashes, her eyes darting to and fro, but settling often upon the mop of red hair.

[*MarkHagbarth]

Darion looked at the Pixie for a moment.
"Well why not.. Khazeet! A honey spice and a normal ale please." said he and sent the efreet a smile.
Khazeet grunted and started pouring the booze in mugs.
Darion looked at the Pixie again and said: "So who are you, Pixie who asks strangers for booze?" He smirked. Amusement was easily readed in his blue eyes.

[*Pashan01]

"Piri!" she responds in a high pitched voice "Was yers?" rather pleased to be recognised for what she is, rather than 'faerie' or 'bug', noting the amusement and invite opposite to oft received swat of hand, hops off the wall now and flits down to stand close directly and most definitely in his 'personal space', standing atop the table. She wiggles her pert nose watching him as they await their drinks.

"Where ye from? Ye a wizzie?" chatters on a few more her questions, hardly giving him time to respond, her attention, for the present, for those few moments, entirely focused on Darion with the red hair.

[*MarkHagbarth]

For a second or so, Darion's eyes widened in surprise as she suddenly stood on the table.
"I'm Darion. Nice to meet you.." and that was all he got to say before she started her question-storm.
"Woah woah.. easy now little one" said he and smiled.
Khazeet grunted and Darion attention changed to the efreet.
"A moment." said he, and arose from the chair.
He walked to the bar, took the two mugs, handed Khazeet a few coins and returned to the table.

"Now.. can i help you with something, or are you just one of those really rare cases who just wants to chat?" said Darion and smiled.
He placed her mug in front of her.

[*Pashan01]

"Ta mister Darion" both her tiny hands grab the, rather large for her, mug of honey-spice and she tips it carefully to take a sup of the sweet drink before wriggling to sit to the edge of the table right up close, her tiny legs dangling down, ankles crossed now and swinging abit.

"Mebbe there be somethin' I can be helpin ye with...aaaaaand mebbe I does wanna chat" and gives him one of her cheeky grins.

"Just bein' friendly....why is it people think I'm after somethin when I stops to say yoohoo?" she rolls her eyes in exaggerated manner, but he might also see a sly glint to her eyes.

"Soooo..." swinging her legs, eyes flitting frequently to his red hair and clothing, taking note of the colours he favours "..is it a big secret then? ye know..where ye from?" her gaze falls to his hands, seeing if she can spot any latent magical aura about them.

[*MarkHagbarth]

He smiled at her and took a mouthful of his ale.
"Uck.. bitter stuff this time...".
He smirked and answered her:
"No, i don't have any secrets. I'm from Faerûn. A place called Neverwinter."

His hands didn't emmit a magical aura, but something about him seemed magical anyways. He didn't seem to be armed or armored. He wore a leathercoat, black pants and heavy leather boots. None of it magical.

"So where are you from, miss Mysterious Piri?" he smiled.

[*Pashan01]

The pixie, seeing his apparant distaste for the ale, thrusts out her mug of honey spice for him to try, and a bit sloshes over the top and onto his leathers, she is 'that' close.

She wiggles her pert nose, a tad disappointed at the lack of magick about him but continues to stare at his red mop on and off.

"Uh huh...heard of that one..who hasn'? Bin to Faerûn meself...stayed a fair few of yer years there uh huh " her tiny head nodding "...but home...is a wee grove, in a wee forest, on an island...on Thalasia...in Elysium...ye can get to it in th'Inn...but Sigil is more fun uh huh" She sniffs a bit, taking sup from the honey spice, then offers it to him.

At opportune moment when he has hold of the mug offered between sharing, with swift movement, she darts up from the table to perch and sit to his shoulder, ankles crossed and now swinging to thump gently against his chest. She is under two foot in height and pretty light in weight.

"Why ye here then and whacha doin' in th'Cage?" wiggles her nose again, and lifts one hand to curl her little fingers through a lock of that red hair, twisting it about playfully not tugging.

[*MarkHagbarth]

He alows her to sit on his shoulder and play with his hair. Amusement makes his eyes almost glow.
"This is good.." he says after he's tasted the brew.
Darion places her mug on the table and turns his head to look at her.
"It's a good question why i'm here.. at first, i came here because of the legends surrounding Sigil, and then i kind of just... stayed. I'd say i'm here to help those in need. At least trying.."

His eyes suddenly flashes a bit, and the magic in him is revealed for a second.
"You asked me if i am a wizzie.. a wizard. I'm not.. but i can cast a few arcane spells." he says with a smirk.

[*Pashan01]

Piri's eyes alight both upon hearing and now seeing the hint of arcane usage as well as being provided an easy opening.

"Wha'f I tell ye I'm in need?" her grin widens, from ear to pointy ear, twirling finger, now beginning to knot and tangle some strands of red hair.

And with a cheeky giggle, she whispers something to his ear, so the efreet and passersby don't catch wind, snickering after.

"There is a beastie that got umbrage against folks...one o' them modrons....myeah....and is cursing and passing nasty bug wiht some light ray to anyone it don't like the look of...erhm...but I got the magic potion yeah...ye better take one as precaution.....might be few side effects on drinkin' it I ain too sure...but dun worry 'bout that...dun last long..only a week or so...small price to pay right? Here...have this one me on account of the honey spice...tha was nice ...yer cute"

She whips out a potion bottle and leaves it to the table. With a teasing look, she then hops off his shoulder and takes to the air, hovering a few minutes to catch any parting comment but no longer as close up. She would leave large knots to his hair that stand out and in a peel of giggles, dashes off shouting...

"Catch ye again mister Darion. Toodles! Time to play".

((She has high bluff roll - usually in the 30's easily. Does he take the potion or doesn't he?))