The bazaar wasn't overly busy as the late afternoon dragged on, and she wondered around casually inspecting things. She got looks from people who saw her face peaking from under the hood she had covering her face but only ignored them and kept walking along. She hated this place, it smelled and the humans just looked so awkward on their feet, even the more graceful of them. She walked tall, six and a half feet she stood out among the crowd, slender arms crossed in front of her covered by front of her closed cloak. The only part of body showing was her slender legs of black skin and golden down around her knees and ankles and her feet ending in three claws.

She walked up to a stall that was selling bobbles of some varying kinds, jewellery and such. She reached out and touched a necklace inspecting it for a few moments, finely crafted for the standards that these humans had, a nice jade piece. “Hey, you got the silver to pay for that?” The shop stall owner piped up when he spotted the strange, tall and cloaked figure inspecting his work.

The female looked over to him, black eyes barely visible under her hood. “I do not, but I would not purchase such a piece, lacking in craftsmanship.” She released the trinket and turned to walk away.

“Hey! How dare you!” The jeweller came from around his stall and walked towards the tall woman he was a full foot shorter than she was. He reached for her and managed to grab enough of her cloak to remove the hood from her face, revealing her features, which made him pause.

She had an angular face with the same black skin as her legs a head of golden and orange down and a mane of black and gold fur around her neck. Two antenna unfolded from the top of her head to point upwards as she turned to look down at him. “Wha… what are you?” The man asked taking a step back away from the strange looking female.

Her eyes narrowed. “Annoyed. Walk away now, human, and I will not harm you.” She warned and turned her back to walk away placing her hood back over her head. But it was too late people had turned to look at the shouting from the man and had seen her face, and now they were curious. Plus the stall owner wasn't done, he couldn't allow that insult to his work go undefended.

She hated this place. Everything was reeking of fish corpses and stale alcohol that had been watered down into something resembling bodily fluids. It stank, physically and figuratively. Nothing good ever happened in Vilpamolan, and she really didn't want to even be here right now. But thanks to a couple of profiteers squatting in Nyella waters between Yovaesh and Adeluna, a shipment had gone missing. She knew it had gone missing, because the recipient never received it and they didn't have a receipt of completed transaction on file. Filthy sticky-fingered seadogs had taken it. It was a small-time group, posing as an 'imports company'. It was actually a backwater stall sticking out of a local saloon selling stolen and smuggled goods. They'd be severely fined for the offense–by having a hole in their wallets that would leave them short until the base costs of the losses were covered. They should consider themselves lucky that she wasn't charging interest.

Obviously Vilpamolan scum would never pay upfront, so she'd make direct debits out of their coin. She'd hit them where it hurt, by bleeding their pouches. Spotting one of the wanted men on her list, she clicked her tongue. "Good luck staying drunk for the next week punk…" Shiloh murmured. "Let's see how you enjoy sobriety." Whenever that man would try to buy himself a drink, he'd always find himself a coin short and never get a single drop. That was one down and five more to go. Once they were all marked, she'd keep careful tabs on their movements and sink the next ship they tried to board. 

There was shouting from down the street, from a voice that sounded like those fishmongers hawking their wares at ungodly hours of the morning. About ready to stuff a sock in the man's gob, she noticed a very unusual stranger in the mix. That person the roll-faced man was huffing at looked like a giant insect on two legs. An insect on two legs.

Shiloh definitely wanted to find out more about this individual, but wasn't going to just waltz up and strike a conversation. Too many witnesses, too many gossipy mouths and staring eyes. Luckily the general population of this hive of villainy was rather easy to distract. Conjuring an apple, she looked around and spotted some sloshed sod lying on top of some crates. His hand was clamped on a bottle, and a rough-looking character was passing through. Pitching the fruit, she knocked the bottle loose and it smashed onto the bloke, leaving him madder than a hornet. He looked up, saw the drunk sleeping above, and started roughing him up. The crowd's attention was quickly diverted by the street brawl, with other roughnecks getting into the mix. Unfortunately the little 'brawl' got out of hand and things were flying, a few hitting the irate stall owner's stand. Alright so it was a full-on gang skirmish now with flaring tempers escalating into pandemonium, but it did act as a good distraction not counting the collateral damage.

With everybody busy throwing punches and avoiding hits or cheering their favorite side to win, she slipped to a safe distance to see how the insectoid person would act. She'd follow them and wait for a suitable opportunity to cross paths without raising too much suspicion.

When the commotion started down the road a little Sharifa turned to look at the melee that had broken out among the crowd. Foolish humans! Fighting each other over what? Nothing. One person does something stupid and they all start fighting each other. Kill the trouble maker and be done with it, it was how her people did it and that was all that mattered, solve the problem quickly and move on. But it was her line of thinking, and her peoples', that made it very very rare for a trouble maker to even appear within their hives.

There was a noise of steel scaring leather behind her and Sharifa turned to find that the stall owner had drawn a dagger and was walking towards her. “Think you can just walk away after insulting me? Think again, you bug bitch.” He snarled and dashed at her in his anger.

Sharifa black eyes narrowed, he should not have called her that not attack her. She didn't move until the last moment, a flick of movement from something hidden under her cloak and she had a small buckler in her left hand suddenly, knocking the dagger aside as he swung. Another flash of movement from under her cloak and Sharifa now held a dagger of her own in her right hand, which she stabbed upwards through the man's hand. He cried out and dropped his dagger at which point Sharifa gave him a swift kick to the gut which sent him tumbling backwards into his stall. “Stay down.” She warned lowering her hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled and a few people turned their heads as he grasped his bleeding hand with a hole through it.

Sharifa walked forward, and he moved to punch her but she knocked it aside and dropped her dagger and buckler. Instead she grabbed of the silver chains hanging on the stall wrapped it around his neck and pulled back and up, easily hanging up off of his feet. He gagged and struggled and now a couple of his friends started to run to help him. “Stop!” One of them yelled as the two of them drew swords.

Sharifa did stop and recovered her buckler and blade and eyed them. “He better not be dead, or else.” One of the men warned moving closer.

In reply Sharifa reached down and grabbed a handful of the man's hair and hauled him up before drawing her dagger across his throat and then dropping him. “Or else what?” She asked, fine, if this was to happen, she might as well stretch out before hand. Sharifa had been in these lands for a week now and hadn't had a good chance to test how these humans and such fought, seemed like a good time.

Before the two men, who were now enraged, attacked in full Sharifa casually removed her cloak. As it dropped to the ground the two men stopped as Sharifa unfolded two more arms that she had been hiding crossed under her cloak. Each hand had a dagger in it, giving her three daggers and a buckler, but a clear fourth dagger hung at her side along with a small bow on her back with a quiver as well. She was decked out for light combat and clearing would be a fast fighter, even more so when there was a buzz in the air as she stretched her wings out.

“Or, else, what?” She spoke again mockingly, each of the blade daggers she casually tossed into the air at the same time and spun them when she caught them. She waited to see what they would do, clearly they weren't prepared to fight a being like her, then again, they hadn't seen her kind before either.

So it was like an insect. She had been wondering how far the similarities would go, and her guess was right. Six limbs, like an insect's six legs. Watching the altercation pan out between the mad lout and the stranger, Shiloh was carefully analyzing its movements. The insect-being had martial training from its quick but precise movements. The attacks used were efficiently ruthless–likely implying a background from a society well-versed in warfare. Fighting was not done for sport, but seen as a practical necessity. No flashy misdirection, no fanciful techniques. Militaristic, in a way. That extra set of arms would be a great disadvantage for most people here. It didn't surprise her when nobody couldn't land a hit; these were garden-variety thugs with little to no training going up against a soldier. 

If this being was more akin to an insect than human, then their senses would be different. Shiloh made a mental note to ask Nerine more on that later. She'd pull every book they had on insects and make sure she had her facts straight. It never hurt to be prepared, especially after seeing a type of being nobody had ever seen until today. Maybe her 'neighbor' up north knew something about them. What was supposed to be a distraction had escalated into a turf skirmish, but that soon fizzled out when a man was actually killed. Vilpamolan was greedy, vice-ridden, and all sorts of unsavory things. However they figured out that even lawless areas couldn't have blood in the streets every day if they wanted to get anything done. The thugs were more on intimidation and showing dominance, not gutting people unless they were really fed up. And above all else, they didn't take any disrespect from outsiders.

Putting a hand to her face, she sighed in exasperation. Well, at least Dalanesca would get a few more souls today… Not that she meant to light the powder keg intentionally. Things were careening off the cliff so to speak, as apparently the insectoid being was just fine with a challenge. With its cloak removed, Shiloh noted another point that having two sets of arms gave for an advantage. It could effectively shoot and and engage in close-quarter combat simultaneously. And wings meant it also had aerial maneuverability. It was like somebody took the worst things out of Bakulaw's flying spiders and put them into a sentient being. 

Trying to salvage this mess and hopefully reduce possible bloodshed, Shiloh crossed her fingers and used telepathy to implant thoughts into the armed men's minds. 'You know what, forget it. This ain't worth the time.' The men started to back down, faces still simmering with anger. "Forget it Nito, we got bigger fish to fry." One of them said to the others, and they started leaving. They gave Sharifa one last look, implying they weren't going to let this slide but would remember this. Relieved, she was glad they had a very predictable thought process. Everybody else was giving the insect-being a wide berth, murmuring and throwing looks. Tensions were still high, mostly directed towards the insectoid. She'd have to keep a close eye on this one. The thieving scum could wait. She was desperately hoping another fight wouldn't break out again–or else she'd have to blast the harbor just to make them focus on something else.

Sharifa waited for them to attack but watched as their posture changed and they backed down, saying they had better things to do. The turned and left and the wasp stood and watched, cowards. Slowly she sheathed each of her daggers and replaced her buckler as well, after that she reached down and grabbed her cloak and clasped it back on at her throat. Her lower arms she hid under the cloth again folding against her stomach, so she wouldn't get to fight more humans after all, fine for now, she'd find a fight later on. She had seen other races as well, elves she had heard them called, she wondered what they were like to fight.

Turning back to the stall for a moment she eyed the offerings and found something that called to her. A small amulet shaped like a dagger, she held it and tested the edge, it was sharp, and there was a power to it that she could feel. What she would find out later is that the charm on the blade would help to charm those around her in such a way that it would be easier for her to walk through a crowd a little less noticeable.

She placed the amulet around her neck and then started to walk away, ignoring the looks she was getting. But the amulet was starting to do its job already as people stopped looking at her after a little while, at least once she had her hood back up anyway. The wasp woman continued on through the city just taking in the sights, what a place this was, the humans seemed to all hate each other. She sighed to herself, she'd look around for a little longer before taking flight to a new location.

Still keeping a healthy distance while discreetly following the movements of the stranger, Shiloh's eye was caught by one of the weapon stalls along the grungy streets. A beautiful, quality broad-bladed battleaxe with acid-etched engraving along the shaft was on display among everything else. It was the only thing that had exceptional craftsmanship, and definitely couldn't have been forged here. The rest was bland, cheap stock you'd find anywhere else. Probably second-hand goods looted off of corpses or 'confiscated' by whatever groups acted as the local authorities. Stepping aside she immediately went to get a closer look. The axe head was a real work of art, almost two feet wide. Blade edge was smooth with no nicks. No tarnishing or scratches on the metal. Well-balanced in shape and a straight-aligned shaft. It could cleave a melon all the way through with no resistance, she guessed. This had to be Baltil-quality forging, but with the elegance in style that even elves would appreciate. She wanted it.

"How much for this?" The grizzled stall keeper gave a puff from a pipe as he looked the rogue over. "…400 silvers." She paused, expression unchanged before repeating her question. "How much for this axe?" The man narrowed his eyes. "400." A long silence followed as she continued to stare at the axe as if examining its every detail. The stall-keeper watched her while leaning his free hand on a cutlass tied to his side. Turning around she asked him another question. "Are these stolen goods?" He snorted, a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "Hah! As if." Shiloh followed up with another inquiry. "Where did you get these weapons?" The man's face turned serious and he glared with his better eye. "From reliable sources. Are you buyin' or loiterin' about?"

"I'll buy it–only if you lower the price." A raspy cackle punctuated with a few coughs came from the stall owner. "This isn't some mom and pop farmer's market here. Don't try to haggle, 400 silvers." She took a step forward. "Lower the price." "And I say 400–or get lost." He sneered. Another step forward. "Lower the price." "400 silvers." She was only a foot away from the stall owner, and when standing she towered over him. "With all due respect sir, I happen to know just how much the materials and workmanship cost before retail price, and I'm not leaving until I buy that axe. So lower the price." Her last words ended ominously in hushed tones with emphasis. Her unblinking stare and unchanged expression was beginning to unnerve the old lout, slowly but surely forcing him to buckle under pressure. He was used to dealing with young punks raising their voices and fists touting bravado but her intense, disquieting behavior was causing goosebumps to rise on the back of his neck.

People weren't comfortable with being stared in the eye for long periods of time. It was playing on their natural instinct towards danger. The feeling of being watched by eyes in the trees from a jungle cat or the silent presence of a wolf was one of the primal fears of man before they moved from villages into cities. The fair folk taught her not just how to bluff, but to bluff well. She knew how to act in such a way that would mislead people into thinking she wasn't human.

As she walked another commotion caught her attention and she moved in to listen a little closer. A human woman was arguing with some gruff looking brute of a man smoking a pipe, sounded like they were talking about the price of something. Sharifa stepped closer to listen, interested to see how a female human would handle a male who was larger than she was, at least with muscle anyway. But she was standing to his sitting which made her tower over him, Sharifa had to admit, this female seemed to know how to intimidate the man.

Unable to help a small smile the wasp moved in closer as the tension rose and she could see the mean break out in goose flesh from. Hm, perhaps this female would be smart enough to know some things that Sharifa was interested in knowing, perhaps it was time to actually try and get along with someone for once.

Walking over casually Sharifa stepped up to the stall and reached out to fiddle with some throwing stars he had there. Nothing special, but they were sharp. She picked two of them up and inspected them closer until he finally managed to acknowledge that she was even there. ”Th, those are 20 silver each.” He couldn't look away from the human female however.

Sharifa set the shurikens down and eyed him before glancing to the human, black eyes hard to read from under her hood. The stall man hadn't seen who and what he was talking to yet. So Sharifa removed some silver from her cloak's pocket and tossed it on the stall, but at the same time one of her second hands slipped from her cloak and moved one of the shurikens to where he would grab that along with the coins. He grabbed for the silver but too slowly felt the blades cut his skin, he was about to release when Sharifa's hand gripped around his and squeezed his hand around the blade.

He finally looked at her ready to curse but when he was looking into her black eyes he only babbled something through the pain. Sharifa smiled. “Should pay attention to what you are reaching for, human.” She released his hand and he pulled it back, blood flowing, when he was distracted her lower arms slipping out again and scooped the rest of the shurikens into her cloak. “Now then, I'll make a purchase of my own, say, four of your throwing stars, if you give this lady the lower price she was asking for. In fact, I'll make it 30 silver instead of 20, how does this sound?” She questioned him and stepped back from the counter for now, he hadn't noticed that all but 4 of his shurikens were gone.