And there was another who cursed the daystar that Gaera orbited around, that irritating ball of fusing and splitting hydrogen and helium that kept on releasing light, ultraviolet radiation, and more irritatingly, heat. Being from a colder place of the continent, as well as having a few racial and, er, clothing-related issues of his own.
A certain 6'2" tall man with blue hair walked down the streets into the marketplace, clad in what looks like a very heavy outfit, purple with black here and there. His blue hair almost reached down to his waistline, and his purple eyes giving him an exotic appearance with his Valthi features--well, the ones that could be seen past the masked helmet he wore. A single gun was slung across his back, looking ready to be fired at a second's notice. Of course, logic would go that he would be sweating like a dog, even in the shade, which he tried his damnedest to stay in. He seemed to hold a large flask of water in his left hand, already half-empty.
It was one of Igala's more irritating...and more destructive, mercenaries. One with a number of stories, some true, and others with only a hint of truth to them, and some completely false ones, about him, wherever he seemed to go. And his penchant for collateral damages was not to be ignored, one could say. Of course, right now, he was just walking through, almost passing up the leather store while looking at the wares offered there for anything useful, the helmet covering his face and nose...well, wait. He just took it off.
Taking another massive swig from the flask, it was clear, from the appearance and the mess of blue hair, that it was one Kamos Mazuo in the vicinity. And he looked at the scene therein, wondering when the hell another job would come up; after all, sake doesn't pay for itself, and he couldn't leech off of Deeum for his whole life, could he? Well, he could, but she wouldn't be too happy with that...