Taalia Giovanni

The man looked so frail - Taalia had never seen someone who was so old! Almost 100! A century of life, 85 years of conscious, active life and thoughts sat before her in a thinning pile. Taalia herself was maybe 19,maybe 20, a fifth of this mans age, and to look at him now filled her with a sense of awe and wonder at the things he'd seen and done. Would she reach that age?

Well...there was the elven bounty hunter back in Bella Collina. But when you naturally live for thousands of years, Taalia speculated that ones perception on the passing decades would be rather different than one for whom every 10 years is a serious milestone.

"Got one back, ah? Ah? Good for you, signorina; good for you. We don't normally get anyone back, from the bastards."

Taalia smiled as she felt that weathered hand holding hers affectionately, as she returned it with her own gratitude and hand on top of his.

"I lost a decade living among them. They have no redeeming qualities. I hope they all return to the hell that spawned them," she answered simply, before the mans attention was drawn to sweet Bella.

However, they all knew that 'that time' would arrive. Tileans were a hot-blooded people. They could be cool and reserved when they wanted to be, but it was not their natural state of being. Tempestuous shouting, accusations and drama - that was their life blood. It was a show of emotion and what each sentence was might not necessarily matter as much as the overall heartfelt sincerity on display. Taalia could hear that as Maso and Cestie went at it while she, Bell and the others waited downstairs. For a moment she thought about her own biological parents, where she came from, and wondered how different the culture was there.

But then came the revelation: Augusto, Biango's son, had fallen in with the Weavers, some type of multi-generational gang in these parts. That they were still around after Maso had been with them when he was a boy was testimony to their longevity. Were they just a simple crew of street urchins they would have died out or been thrown into the slammer by now. But a criminal enterprise that lasted that long did not do so without doing some things right.

"You don't have to become a thief just to make your own way in the world! I've been making my own way just fine - and Taalia even... Taalia had nothing, and now she's a land owner and on track to be Verezzo's biggest supplier of salted pork! He's just going to get himself in trouble... Taalia - Taalia, we have to do something!"

Taalia offered a reassuring smile. But internally?

What do you want me to do about it? Kidnap the boy or something? she thought to herself. And what could she do?

How old would this Augusto be, anyway? Biago was in his 50s, and from her time with the troublemaker boys and the very masculine-dominated farming trade, Taalia knew that the key ages for criminality amongst men was in their teenage years to late twenties. That's when they'd get drawn into it and, if they survived, either remain in it and move on up or get out of the game. So what was Augusto, was he their age?

And if he was good at locks but preferred opening them instead?

"Maybe he's bored?" Taalia offered quietly.

"With respect singore, I do not know your son, but I know young men. I worked alongside and hired them for my farm in Bella Collina. Young men crave excitement and adventure. If he is restless as you say, perhaps it is because the Weavers offer him excitement and thrills?"