"...So... Business been good?" John looked at the now quiet produce stall owner. Wondering just why the man had gone from absolutely and understandably Irate, to silent and almost reverent. he had been kind enough to help John out of the pink cabbages and onto the stool behind the stall. "Sorry about all...this." Gesturing to the destroyed goods, and pulling out his wallet. "Not sure what the conversion rate is... or if there is one, but here." Taking out 2 paper bills, a fiver and a single, handing them to the Elfen man.

Grathiel took the papers from the man and studied them. "Art? ...I understand thy intent sir mage.. maybe these can sell well to some collector noble." Whoever painted this parchment has to very skilled, to get such fine detail on such a small portrait. "Your words sound silly to me, Sir mage. Can you not speak with the breeze like mineself?" The mage before him was certainly of a different breed, must be from some far off land... maybe he was working on some spell that blew his wind to Vergal.

"...I can't understand a thing you're sayin... but I'm guessing we're good on the money front. How the hell did it go? Parlez vous anglais?" It'd been years since he even tried to speak French sure, it won him a wife. Said wife also said it sounded like he was trying to strangle a donkey, but she still agreed to a date. He had to close his eyes and really focus on the words, try to remember those cheat sheets from the boys he served with. "je ne voulais pas t'offenser." He was about...80% sure that was right on the money. Yet, the Merchant tilted his head at him... maybe French isn't the right language...

Grathiel was solemnly confused, The mage was using some words of power but did not pour his Aert into them, nor connected them through a Focus. Was he trying to speak to him through the words, to break the language barrier? "I'm sad to say Sir mage, my knowledge does not run so deep. I only know base Words like: Feu, Vatn, Aire, မြေပြင်." Looking past him and down the road to some of the local guard. "It seems our chat will be cut short." Pointing to the said guardsmen.

"What's that now? Oh... I'm in trouble, aren't I?" Following the merchants finger to the 3 newcomers. Blue armor with white robes underneath. Were these some form of religious knight? With armor like that, they certainly weren't around to simply guard the gates... they also weren't new to the job. They Eyed John carefully, but did now draw their weapons. Best way to stop a fight was to avoid a fight.

"Grathiel, we heard there was a disturbance. A mage fallen from the sky like an autumn leaf?"

"Autumn leaf my pale ass, Sir mage crushed my Vatngur. Hold your Atunnes. By hook and crook he paid for the damage." Diffusing the situation further by joking around with guards. "He seems foreign, and has no sway with the breeze. He seems knowledgeable thru some words of power and tried to talk with me as such... might you bring a priest? They may know more words then simple men like ourselves."

"Grathiel, bringing him in for questioning would be much easier."

"Mayhaps, though he conjures fire as though t'were mere childs play. I believe it safest to make him comfortable."

"All the more reason to bring him in! He's dangerous!"

"All the more reason to be friendly! No telling what Sir mage could do if he were to put his Aert into it... Besides, he seems friendly enough."

"...Ensign Harii, head to the temple and request assistance from a blessed." Nodding as the younger mage-knight as they ran off to deliver the message. "We shall remain to ensure that he causes no further damage."

"Sounds fine to me! I don't have much to sell today anyway."

The last of the Guard spoke up at the mention. "Actually Grathiel... My Wife asked me to pick up some Hovu eggs. Would you mind if I-"

"Oh Just take them! The bastards got into the grain and have been popping them out like mad."

John simply watched the back and forth, trying to discern the language. Honestly it wasn't helping, the more he listened the more garbled it became. Like French and Dutch had a baby and raised it Australia. It sounded flowery and smooth, the words blended together and the more they talked the faster it seemed to go. A waterfall of words, designed to confuse and mystify.

"Uh...Look. I've had a birthday and a half. I can't understand a fuckin' thing you're saying so. I'm gonna just light another cigarette and pretend like I know what the hell is going on. Good with you? yeah, it's good with you." Only stopping as the knights jumped back as he sparked up his lighter. "...This shit again... it's fire. I can smell the grilled meats around here, You have fire, Relax!" Holding the lighter out for them to Inspect before bringing it back to his fresh cigarette and puffing out a cloud of smoke.

"...He breathes smoke and wields flame like a Ghraggen. Yet did not utter words or pulse his Aert."

"It's a fun trick, Isn't it? He seems to find it soothing. To be fair, I too would panic when thrust into an Unknown land. unable to understand, nor be understood."

"I'm sure the Blessed has a prayer for it...We'll get our answers soon." Looking to the two sprinting bodies approaching. The ensign trailing behind the young blessed...He'll have to make him do laps later as punishment. Losing a footrace to a pagewyrm... dishonorable. "Blessed! just what we need, This man needs-"

"Oh hush with this Blessed talk, A foreigner with no way to speak but through words of power. I understand. I've as much reason to want to speak with him as any of you." Slipping past the Knights and kneeling before John.

"Oh, hello there! Are you a medic? I think I'm going to be-"

"Må den nionde vindens gudar och gudinnor vägleda denna förlorade själ. Stäm hans ögon så att han kan se silversolen dansa, när den gyllene månen jagar hans stora kärlek. Läka deras öron så att de kan lyssna på den trovärdiga musiken från marken vi delar. Befria deras tunga så att de kan gå med i vår heliga kör när vi prisar dem ovan och förbannar den hatade nedanför."

"...Swedish? I don't really know that either, sorry." Trusting the... woman? None of these people have any kind of beard but the voice was higher and softer then the men he met so far. Watching and waiting as the blessed touched his face and shoulders while chanting. Trying to blink away the smoke that had gotten in his eyes. "So what's all this about then?"

"It's one of our old texts, written by Yennet Saint of the wandering spirit. Do you understand me?"

"Thank Christ, finally someone who speaks plain old English."

"You misunderstand, We are merely sharing the intent of our words and deciphering the meaning through magic."

"...I've been through some weird shit today. So I'm just going to play the smart jackass. And pretend that I know what you're talkin' about."

"Fair enough Sir mage, Have you the Aert to return to your home?"

"Aert? Excuse me? You mean Heart? If you got a way, I'm willing."

"Have you no Knowledge of Aert? Then how did you, a Mage, find yourself in Vergal?"

"So this place is called Vergal? ...I swear that's a type of cheese. I'm just a Homicide Detective, not a Mage."