Akram's Links
"The fishman stood like a monument in the middle of the market, tall and imposing, sticking out more than any man or Vastaya for that matter, at least for the time being. Zaun was just that kind of place, so he wasn’t too out of the ordinary, even for a traveling merchant. He had quite a build on him, muscles bulging beneath his skin like the swell of waves crashing against the rocks of any storm-ridden cove in Bilgewater. The thick tail behind him occasionally swished swished back and forth, and his sharp teeth flashed in the sunlight through his beard whenever a customer approached him, teeth that could easily shred even the toughest prey. His clothes were a far cry from the coat I wore, ragged and torn in places, exposing the powerful frame he held beneath. He wore a flowing bandana, that of which had an unfamiliar symbol in the middle, a mystery for another time. — but despite his rugged appearance, beyond his dark sclera, the fishman's golden eyes were sharp and focused, the gaze of a predator on the hunt — or more like a salesman trying to snag a sucker’s hard earned cash. One in the same. Nevertheless, this guy was my ticket to getting ahold of my next clue.”
"As a merchant I've seen a lot of stuff around here, heard lots of folk's stories, maybe I have something of use to you. At a price, of course. Maybe a nice dinner? I heard those were rare and expensive around these parts"
"The woman was like a shadow in the night, a creature of stealth and precision — and a not-so-fuzzy Vastaya such as myself. The scales that adorned her was smooth and patterned differently in various places. Some were darker, almost black, while others were lighter, tan in hue. The patterns and stripes on her limbs and tail worked together to create a striking effect. From a glimpse past her lip and pointed teeth, her tongue was blue, a brilliant hue, blue as a calm sea. It was a sharp contrast to her scales, but it somehow fit together beautifully. She had a fine pair of pins too, digitigrade shaped, definitely strong enough to shoot her high in the air if she so chose with one big leap. Her eyes were sharp, focused — almond-shaped, a solid amber color, dark and mysterious. All of these features together, they created a unique and striking appearance. Then her clothing… Elegant assassin robes with gold trim and jewels here and there; no doubt she worked for someone of high-living. I could see a curved blade by her side; unique and deadly, and I was sure she knew how to use it. — but beneath her deliberate and collected exterior, there was a hint of sadness in the way she carried herself; a sense of loneliness. Takes one to know one, I guess."
“He seems like a fine fellow, but he’s in a nosy profession… I will need to watch out for him.”
"The man was just like any other Noxian warrior: a tower of darkness, a shadow blocking out the light from the street lamps or maybe even the sun itself if you were short enough. His hair was long and black, like a waterfall of darkness spilling from his head, all the way down to his muscled chest; and hell knew that shirt was fighting for its life. He was clad in dark armor, typical for a Noxian soldier; he adorned a skull-shaped helmet with red plumage on his head, signifying his higher rank over the grunts around him. — But despite the intimidating appearance you would expect from a general of an expansionist country, there was something about him that seemed almost unreal and otherworldly — empty almost — as if he was not truly a man of his own. Beneath that helmet was a dark secret, and spirits above, I was itching to crack it.”
“This one is suspicious. The lizard needs to leave.”
"And there it was, that familiar shape in the dark that soon emerged to reveal another correct guess. This one was like a splash of color in Zaun’s sea of black and green. His stylish clothes were minimal, but dark like a midnight sky, with some kind of pink trim that contrasted that shade of bleak darkness. Those robot hands and and that mechanical leg were both mostly made of pink metal, as if they had been forged from the essence of an Ionian forest; connected with mechanical parts, there was a sense of power in the way he moved, as if the man had become one with his machines; and knowing him, he had. His long hair was a vibrant orange that faded to pink at the ends like a Piltoven sunset. Even his mask was a dark color, only revealing those cold, violent eyes of his — one pink and one yellow, colorful but sharp enough to pierce your very soul. Despite the extravagant appearance, there was something ominous about him, a sense of danger that lingered whenever he was near. He was more like a venomous spider, a deadly beauty that worked as a warning. As always, when all clues lead to Maur, I know better than to play with poison.”
"I guess he's my... "friend?" As long as I keep him in line for Renata, I don't mind having him around, I guess. Ugh, I haven't cared for someone like this in a while... gross."
"Ah, so there he was again, always showing up when I really needed it. Coincidences aside, the merchant had the appearance of a small, grey, cuddly creature. His fluffed up grey fur was flecked with dark spots, and two large horns protruded from his head, curling back behind his long ears; an impressive rack, you could say. He had the strangest gaze — but those blue eyes were wise. Despite his short and mostly unassuming exterior, there was something about him that I could only respect. I knew that he had a deep knowledge of healing medicines and had helped the me out of pickles like this before. In this strange and dangerous world, Momas was someone that I could always rely on whenever he’s in town."
"Mr. Akram is aways-always in trouble when I pass through Zaun. I have had to help-help him more than once. I do hope he does not lose his life by the time I visit again, yes-yes."
“Red-haired, bespectacled, and built with curves that could bring a man to his knees, Miss was trouble personified — and a force to be reckoned with. With every movement, she seemed to ooze sensuality as if it was second-nature to her, even if that accent of hers was initially unexpected to the ear. She was a temptation few could ignore, and a woman who spelled danger. She’s definitely gotten me out of hot water just as much as she’s gotten me into it, but she’s not the worst headache I’ve met.”
"Whenever I'm up to some sort of trouble, the sleuth is always around to spoil the fun. But, I've also helped him out. I scratch his back, he scratches mine. He takes everything so seriously, it's kind of cute. No matter what he tells me or tells others, I know deep down he likes my company. Sometimes a stern man needs a wild card around to create some fun."
“Vill Miven, better known as The Wall around this part of the world. He stood tall, his muscles always rippling underneath his skin like the peaks of the Ironspike Mountains. A pretty face on a rugged body, if anything. The black tattoos on his arms, the thick horns on his head, that intense stare that never seemed to trust my every move — it was as though he was more beast than man. But there was something more.I know that there is more to The Wall than just brawn.”
“That detective does like to snoop around. As long as he doesn’t point any fingers at my boss, we won’t have any trouble.”
The Golden Poro: a place for any guy to get a drink and have a good time, though I usually didn’t go for the latter. I walked into the bar, seeing her familiar face. Standing there, a very tall woman, towering over almost every patron that approached the bar. She was as pink as she was flawless, her ears pointing upwards, just like an inquisitive cat’s would, though that was for certain since they were basically cat ears. Her light-colored hair had its usual volume and bounce on this rainy night, and as always, she was equipped with that gorgeous nose and full set of lips. Last but not least, she rested her striking eyes at me, eyes that held the friendliest front for anyone who walked in with money to spend — the epitome of feline appeal. This was a place I could call a sanctuary, and this woman was one I could trust. I rested my arm on the counter of the bar. “Miss Magno. Just a whiskey tonight.”
"Is it weird that I know two different detective guys? No, there's a lot of fuckin' mysteries out in the world. Akram's a good man, I hope he pays his tab at the Poro soon. Maybe if he helps me find one of my cats, I'll let him off the hook..."
“Detective, detective! I give thee fair warning! It is not good manners to poke your snout into places it does not belong. One could risk losing it if he pushes it too far.”
"I rarely do investigations for Pilties, but these guys were surely desperate for answers. This one was short-lived. It just wasn't worth risking my neck. The Void? No. I know my limits."
"It does not matter who they send. I will never be found. Never again."
“If you know what’s good for you, lizard, you’ll stay out of my damn business! Is that clear?”
Her shoulders relaxed as she saw him come in and a warm smile appeared across her face. "Well, glad to see you'll still visit me when you're not bleeding. It's been a while handsome." Avive leans against the table, resting her elbow on it. "Now... I doubt you're here for a few glasses of scotch and a good time, so what can I do for you? And don't be shy, you know I'm more than happy to get my hands dirty for an old friend."
"We have an understanding. The lizard knows better than to stick his nose where it doesn't belong. I reckon I follow the same rule."
"He's all like, really dramatic and melancholic and stuff like that. The amount of times he's gotten shot too are like, crazy. Like you would think after five or so near death experiences someone would reconsider their career decisions but no! I mean I applaud his dedication, but the sense of self-preservation is just not there."
"Hey man, curious if you can help a dude out. I'm secretly trying to find the person who did all *this* to me, got any idea what shitheads would hurt a handsome man like me? I wanna bash their skull in with my guitar but I have 0 clue where to look. Got any ideas?"
"He's not good enough at his job to pose a threat. He'll never find anything out about me- and if he does... well, I wouldn't let him get that far."
“Such resilient scales. You know better than to bother me, but how I wish you took the risk anyway. I want to see how long it takes to reach your marrow…”
“Listen. I’m retired, I’m livin’ me best life, and ye can’t prove I did anythin’ wrong. I’m just that good. Now bite the back of my bollux and beat it, ya bloody sleuth.”