Faunaori refers to elves with animal characteristics while Florauori are elves with plant characteristics. The Atmospheri are those with elemental characteristics. In addition, the elves are inspired loosely by Native American mixed with Asian culture so names will be last then first. That should be clear in the writing but I thought a disclaimer might be helpful :)
The first time Erudeln stumbled upon Larav's market, he'd visited it right-side up. Now, his explorations were mostly carried out upside-down. It was simply more convenient.
As he clung to the underside of the third level of the market, Erudeln ran through a mental list of what he had gotten so far. Flour, check – potatoes, check – carrots, check – bok choy, check – cloth?
Not yet.
Flipping himself up onto the top of the wooden bridge, Erudeln crouched behind a pie merchant's booth. Once he was sure no one was looking, he sauntered out into the crowd of people wandering along the food sellers level. Different smells wafted in every direction while the clamor of merchants advertising, clients bartering, and children crying created cacophony.
Heading towards the far end of the bridge, Erudeln passed a young elf leaning over the side, heaving up his lunch. He hasn't gotten used to the sway yet. Erudeln had never been at sea, having grown up in the desert, but he figured the motion the hanging bridges made would be similar.
As he began to ascend the stairs to the fourth level, Erudeln wondered yet again who'd invented the market's layout and why. Whoever they were had designed it so that seven levels of bridges hung from three giant pines, forming a triangle with a hollow center. Hardly practical for the merchants, nor the clients... actually, the only people it was convenient for were thieves.
Luckily for him, Erudeln was a thief.
Smiling to himself, he stepped out onto the cloth sellers level. He ignored the stalls closest to the edge. They were too close to the guards stationed at the entrance to the bridge. Once he reached the middle, Erudeln began to pay close attention. Silks, that wouldn't do. Muslin, still no. Finally, he spotted a small bolt of rose-colored cotton. Perfect, Aerinda and little Selti would love it.
And then he tripped. Catching himself on the balls of his feet, Erudeln regained his balance deftly. Under the guise of running a hand through his long hair, he checked the laces of his satchel. They were still done. Erudeln breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was for his stolen wares to go cascading all over the place.
Curious as to what had tripped him, Erudeln looked down to find that part of the rope that secured the planks of the bridge had come loose. About seven feet of rope lay there at his feet. It wasn't long enough to reach the level below, unfortunately. However, it did give him an idea.
Erudeln strolled lazily back towards the cloth seller's stall with the bolt of cloth he desired. The florauori owner was discussing wares with a willow lass who was quite fetching in his not-so-humble opinion. Her willow-leaf hair constantly swayed slightly in an imagined breeze while her heart-shaped face was dotted with adorable darker-wood spots like the freckles of a younger child.
Erudeln gave a low, soft whistle and sauntered over. Both figures turned as he approached and stared. The merchant's forehead creased with a slight frown.
"Do you wish to buy anything?" the florauori inquired looking suspicious.
Erudeln had to admit that his patched desert clothes, black hair, and copper skin looked out of place in the forest market. He tilted his head to one side, like a bird, and winked at the willow maid who arched an eyebrow in return.
"I do not buy, or sell for that matter, I borrow... sometimes permanently," he replied, adding the last part almost as an afterthought.
"Then get ye gone, you scoundrel!" retorted the seller.
"Scoundrel? That's a bit harsh, my dear! I consider myself a benefactor to the less fortunate though a nuisance to wealthy merchants such as yourself," Erudeln replied soothingly before turning to the beauty: "Perhaps, on a better day, you might take a stroll with me, love?"
The willow maid raised both eyebrows now and looked scathingly at Erudeln. The latter sighed, and turned away, carefully lacing his satchel with the cotton inside shut. As he did so, what he had expected and dreaded happened. A loud shriek of "Thief!" went up behind him.
So the merchant had finally noticed that staring didn't pay off when it wasn't directed at her own wares.
Erudeln broke into a sprint towards the piece of rope. He shot back over his shoulder: "Love, you got it wrong: I am a benefactor!"
Then, he leaped over the side of the bridge with the segment of rope clutched in his hand.
Erudeln sent a silent prayer to Leanthal that the rope would not break. Then, he twisted midair and grabbed the rope that looped underneath the bridge holding its planks together. Once he had hold of it, he let go of the other segment of rope.
It was just in time. Seconds later, the guards from either end of the bridge arrived, panting under their mail plate.
Erudeln flattened himself as comfortably as possible. If he were lucky, he would be hanging out here literally for quite some time. He hoped he would make it home before sunset because at night, the desert boiled with danger.
Above him, he heard one guard ask the others: "See that segment of rope?"
"Yes?" replied a light female voice, "I'd wager he must have slid down it to the next level."
A third chimed in: "How? That is a twenty-foot drop. And the rope is not even eight feet. It's impossible."
The guard leaned far out so that Erudeln could see his muscled skin and red fur of a fox. He peered left and right and sniffed the air. Erudeln tensed, holding his breath, not daring to move. He felt a cramp beginning in his leg, partly because he had twisted it in his fall and partly from stress.
"I disagree, Bartea," retorted the first, "I agree with Lizzetle, he must have jumped. He can't have run for it. We would have seen him since we came from opposite ends."
"Then, he must either be a master acrobat or of disguise," conceded the fox-guard, retreating from the edge.
Erudeln still did not dare relax or let out his breath though his head and body were beginning to throb. It was bad enough to hold his breath for this long, but right after running, it was terrible.
"Either way," rejoined Lizzetle, "we should hunt through this level and the ones below. Alert the guards on the lower landings to look for anyone with black eyes and hair, copper skin, high cheekbones, and desert clothes."
There was a light patter of feet as the guards split up. Once they retreated, Erudeln let out his breath and drew in a new deep one. Then, he let go of the ropes with one hand and massaged the cramp in his calf. Finally, he settled back into his position finding footholds for his feet so that he could take a nap while he waited for the commotion to die down. He knew that if they did not find him by the time the guard changed, he would be safely forgotten since a robbery would not be deemed very important. But that was four hours away...
***
By the time Erudeln heard the horn call for the change of guard, he was starving. He had to get out of this predicament and fast. He removed his various limbs from their rope holdings and crawled upside-down to the end of the bridge; extending his long limbs before crunching them together causing his muscles to burn by the end.
There, he stretched out one foot to the flattened space between the trunk of a Redul and the beginning of a branch. Slowly, he shifted his weight onto it before lightly jumping so that both feet landed on the branch. For an instant, he swayed.
Quickly, he grabbed ahold of the ropes of the underside of the stairs which curved around the trunk. The rough flaxen cord dug into his palms as Erudeln hoisted himself into a backbend through the gap in between two stairs. His feet landed on the lower stair while he faced the upper one. Then, casually as if he had no care in the world, he ascended to the upper level.
His plan was to cross via the upper level and then descend on another side of the elevated triangle. Both on the fifth level and the other sides of the triangle, the description of a desert thief should not have spread so he should be clear to escape.
On either side of the entrance to the fifth level, a guard in flexible leather armor stood. Both were Faunori; one male with Fennec ears and tail and one female from whose head protruded a ram's horns. Cold sweat trickled down Erudeln's back. All he had to do was pass these two.
He began to sidle by while noticing that the guard with the ram's horns was looking at him sideways. She placed her spear in his way and demanded: "How old are you? What is your name?"
The question caught Erudeln off guard. He had expected an accusation of stealing and for the first time, he forgot to lie.