At least this isn’t in Ustalav, Mios thought, smiling wryly to themself as they approached the Lily Lounge. It hadn’t taken much investigating into the recent mysterious disappearances in Augustana to find all signs pointing to this new luxury lounge, famous almost overnight. If this were Ustalav, Mios figured, the lodge would be full of vampires. Or werewolves. Or some kind of vampiric werewolves like those vukodlaks from last winter.

Gazing past his easel at the bustling Commerce District of Niswan, Thaleon’s thoughts wandered once again. They rarely stayed put, but life would hardly be any fun if they did. There were so many delicious new sensations to take in, from the kites dancing overhead to the tempting sizzle of vegetable wraps from a nearby food stall. He observed the colors of the market, his eye lingering on a small shrine where a priest was drawing the rose of Shelyn in colored powders. The Rahadoumi elf didn’t worship to any gods himself, of course, but he had nothing but respect for the old priest’s lifelong devotion and mastery as his fingers effortlessly scattered a vibrant green around the rose’s exterior. Thaleon turned back to his own easel to paint with his mind’s eye, the emotions of the market his palette. He blended the vibrant gold of a cunning merchant’s intellect with the frustrated red of the customer she had just outwitted in a battle of bargains. Now for some green as well, the color of growth, flexibility, potential...