Msaka sat cross-legged atop the small cliff that overlooked the end of Nob Hill, gazing thoughtfully out over the expanse of the city below to the island and sea beyond. Rich hues of red and gold played across the sky's lower reaches as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, marking the end of yet another day. The beauty of the scene was not lost on him, but even so, his mind was wandering.

Nearly two weeks had passed since his visit to Science Island, and he had not been idle. Much of his time had been spent diligently honing his thaumaturgical skills and working to master the more practical incantations that Shakra had unearthed within the Culinary Wizard's tomes. The finesse with which he could now weave his spells had even surprised him - however difficult his journey had been, he was undoubtedly the stronger for it. His powers would not have developed to more than a fraction of what they now were had he remained at home for all of that time.

Spellcraft had not been his only area of study, though. He had delved into the contents of Shakra's library and the city's official histories, seeking out every mention he could find of the tritons, as well as the dragon and the wards that had been laid down to bind it. As he had expected, there was precious little detail to be found about the spells that had been used in creating the pillars and the great temple that had housed the beast. Still, even knowing the origins of their magic and the circumstances which had led to their creation was potentially valuable, given the task he still faced.

He had also passed several hours in the waters of the bay, practicing the art of swimming with the aid of the breathing apparatus that he'd borrowed from the scientist. The bulky device had been awkward at first, weighing him down and hindering his movements. The unseen currents of the deeper waters had also proven themselves to be an obstacle, dragging him off course and buffeting him with turbulence in places. Nevertheless, he had finally grown accustomed to the strange world beneath the waves, and now felt confident of his ability to navigate the depths of the Med Sea when the time came.

When the time came... Msaka's gaze drifted down to the plazas that stretched out below him, and the populace which sought to conclude the day's business before the night threw its cloak across the city. He sighed, resting his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees, his mind wandering again. His studies had left little doubt in his mind that the tritons were skilled in the practice of magic and bore a strong distrust of land-dwelling peoples, particularly since the dramatic events of the previous year. That was likely to be a problem, for it was doubtful that such creatures would willingly hand over a sample of their hair - there were too many mischievous uses to which it might be put, and they would be fully aware of that fact.

There was always the possibility of accosting one of them and taking what he needed by force. In truth, he knew that it was probably the approach that he would have favored if he had faced this situation at the beginning of his journey. The fact that doing so would undoubtedly shatter the peace between the tritons and the humans of the region - both figuratively and literally, if the story behind the statuette that symbolized that peace was true - would not have dissuaded him. It would be their problem to deal with, not his. But this was not the beginning of his journey, and he knew that he could no longer bring himself to so callously claim his prize at the price of their lives.

A frown momentarily creased his features as he considered the likely extent of the shaman's wrath were he to return home without the triton hair. It was not a pleasant image, and he quickly set the thought aside. Clearly, leaving without the hair wasn't an option either.

Another sigh escaped his lips. Somehow, he would have to find a way to persuade the tritons that his intentions were peaceful and that the hair wouldn't be used to do them harm. The fact that he wasn't entirely certain what the shaman intended to do with the components once they had been collected didn't help matters, though he had to admit that it was unlikely the shaman's efforts would affect the tritons in any way. It would also be the first meeting between his people and theirs, and he wasn't certain whether this would cause the tritons would view him as being more or less trustworthy than the locals, but he was inclined to suspect the latter.

The sigh turned into a growl of frustration. There had to be something he could do...