Enatic Clans

"Lord Gervðas, please to meet nyou." as the man emerges from the corner then bows in a kowtow fashion.

With two knees prostrate lay to the ground - I approach the man who is of a feline humanoid überleben. A sentient furball. This lad is a gátes. I met some of them during my time proselytizing in the supercontinent.

"May I know who you might be, humble lad?" I demand his identity by cutting him off.

The male gátes rises from his initial stance, uttering: "Ah~ forgive me for my impertinence," he then clears his throat, "... my name is Talbetter Avante O'Silverpelt de Alcanzantré. Nya~" as he introduces himself where he follows up with another bow.

"Oh? An Inglovian. So what does an Inglovian gátes have a business here in our humble kingdom?" I investigate while warming up by offering a handshake.

Ugh~ honestly, I have been stressed out lately. Didn't get ample rest because of the referendum that I'll be sleeping with 'Jyana'. She toss-and-turn, toss-and-turn. Kicked me in the face. I don't know if that was last night or the first hours, well, another incident - she stomped my gut recklessly as she soundly asleep. And when she gets deep into her sleep, she rambles incessantly. Not only have I been stranded and stuck with that double threat exhibitionist-cartomancer maid, but now this lad adds piling up to the mix - one of my hundreds of problems. Jeez! Lady Wellicia, you have forsaken your lowly servant.

I am clearly indignant but I'll put a face for now, smiling: "So where are you from, gentleman? I heard 'de Alcanzantré' thus I assumed that you hailed from that dock city." as I point out the most noticeable detail. And yes, his hometown.

"Yes, that's right, Milord."

My proffered hand is still hanging, "So what are you doing here, mister Talbetter?" reiterating, as I try to insert back that previous discussion.

"Got shipwrecked and stuck for months as of now. Lately, I haven't found any remittance outlet in this kingdom." he then accepts the gesture and answers my askance in the most simplest way.

"Posts, banks, goldsmithery's workshops, consignment networks - mainly trade have been compromised. Well, first and foremost, we are at war with your realm. So that probably answers your question." I am neither sure of these but that's what I assume.

"Is that so?" gloom forms in his face.

"Pity." trying to sympathize with him. In all honesty, sucks to be him.

"Luckily, I stashed some of my savings back in the mainland. For the record, I'm a retiree, Lord Gervðas, and I ain't affiliated no more." he protests, "Hmph…" as he huffs afterwards. Well, that was personal.

"If I may ask, mister Talbetter. Were you the rumored man yesterday who trained our soldiers and taught more than just muscles… ?" as I divert the talk, rigidly and not indulging it further.

"I believe I am, milord."

"You're the talk in town and possibly you're hot in the military, as per Lord Aisla's commendations… but I never knew it was you." directing, I only just realize it now.

"Am I that great? Well, during my time in the army, they said my abilities are great for parlor tricks." Sir Talbetter claims, awkwardly laughs. Again, he self-deprecates his worth, knowing that's not the case.

"If a young Talbetter gets a lot of adulation and applause, that young gátes punk will certainly be gone astray." he then adds while sharing probably his presumed childish-esque behavior, giving his insights about himself.

I begin to walk, heading to wherever it might lead me to. This gátes guy follows along, not asking questions. He's walking with me, yes. But not side-by-side, he trails me on my back like a youngling drake to his mother goose. While I am walking, I glance back at him for a moment. And then suddenly, there are several 'lookalikes' of him following along in a tactical file. I'm not exactly surprised by his ability. 'Those' definitely is his ability. Well, anyway. Either he's pranking me or just get the gist of my humor. He's witty. I can give him that.

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"Sir Talbetter…" I call out to him to catch his attention, he then dismisses his set of conjures - POOF, POOF, POOF! All of them disappear.

"Yes, Lord Gervðas?"

"Are you a romantic person, a technician, or a man of principles?" I question him with an ambiguous askance. This is just to pass some time.

"By what standards, milord? Like, for example, orcs. Orcs are an überleben race that tend to abhor withdrawal. And according to their philosophy, ahead towards death is the way to heaven. For goblins, these pests rape women of any überleben not because of their libido instincts but because of their continuity and racial survival. And devout people of Aslab are legal to kill their own sons, daughters, wives, brothers; if they are found guilty of crime. Jiɑ̃ßni practitioners are condoned to cannibalism. I mean, Lord Gervðas, what is morality in the first place?" he answers back.

"True. I think I have given you such a convoluted question. Apologies. Universally, shall we say." I say, as we begin to egress the castle doors.

As we trek along the town square of the castle, I should have known that the amount of hawkers and peddlers are dwindling. Most stores, studios, and shops have been foreclosed. These are true to several barber-surgeons, cataract couchers, apothecaries, midwives, tooth-drawers, artisans, herbalists, bonesetters, craftsmen, and paradebuff experts (or colloquially known as the witch-doctors). Most of them are adventurers, so that means the military are the ones who are manning the dungeon and anthromorphs. Some that left or last standing are the locals themselves - well, actually 'few'. May Lady Wellicia bless their prosperous perseverance.

And this store, as we nearly pass by, catches my attention, stopping: "This owner is from here, he's not a Kehinan." holding my chin, and after a while, my instinctive feet move on their way to visit the shop.

"Lord Gervðas… ! How rare I see you loitering around." the proprietor cries, exiting from the doorstep and waving his hand.

I believe his name is,... "Mister Leto Letović. It's good to see you remain." as we exchange pleasantries with glee and despite the external crisis. About his name - that's the only thing I could remember of. I hope I don't misremember or mistake him for someone.

"Actually it is Leto Letović O'Tochailt de Chebüiwaz the Younger." correcting me, he rephrases a couple of tweaks about his name.

I'm right about a fraction of his names… ! His name is Leto. No other given names. Only one given name. Letović is his patronymic name. Meaning his father's name must be Leto as well. O'Tochailt is the name of his ancestor named 'Tochailt', as the legacy name then became the family name for all of his descendants such Leto here whom I am speaking with. Wait, this guy must be Lord Geoff's fellow folkmen, right? Chebüiwaz is a city in Haganopolis. He's the 'Younger' in universal terms he's the 'Junior', that means he's also the Second. Makes sense since he has a patronymic name, which by the way, his father's name will be Leto O'Tochailt the Elder - he is either named as Leto then his father's name O'Tochailt Senior then the place where he was born or Leto then his father's name O'Tochailt 'I' (while Leto Letović is the 'II') then where he was situated at during the time of his birth. However, I'm neither aware of his father's birthplace nor his father's father's name.

"So how's the business doing recently? On the green marks or the opposite? Well, it's safe to assume due to the fact that Kehina is still under constant threat of invasion."

"Not doing good lately, just enough to taste leftovers. But you would be the first customer of today if that'd be the case, milord." as we share a laughter, whereas he sets aside the gloomy and depressing state of fact for now.

As the laughter gradually simmers down, "Who's with you, Lord Gervðas?" asks the owner.

"Ah! This right here is the new army instructor - great guy, by the way. " introducing Sir Talbetter to Mister Leto, as I shower Sir Talbetter with while maintaining his privacy thus faking his name - new moniker.

"Good morning, Sir Leto. Please be acquainted with you." Sir Talbetter bows in a 45°, as I leave them for now during the moment, something has piqued my attention.

"Lord Gervðas, what might that be?" he asks, as he is referring to the container that I am holding.

"An ash… ?" I open it, then I show it to him the content inside, "A charcoal powder." I have been meaning to purchase this item.

"For dental health care? It seems reasonable since there are no barber-surgeon's salons left open by this point."

"True. They may find their ventures away from the war. But deep within the bottom of my heart, I want them to continue their businesses here or at least come back after the shenanigans." I agree with him, praying to the owners afterwards.

"About the question earlier, Lord Gervðas. You're asking me whether I follow morals, pursue flairs and subjectivity over objectivity, or I play cautiously. I'm neither a man of principle nor a romantic man." he stands by his answer.

"Playing by the book, eh? Is it, Sir Talbetter?"

"Uh-huh… it is the most safest path traversing the world of life." Sir Talbetter declares, as he goes along with me returning to the castle after purchase.

Ohoho, tell me, Sir Talbetter. Tell me about what is larger than life you are referring to." I challenge, where he just gives me a smirk.