☔️ Arrival

This is the fifth stall he's visited with no merchant. Odd enough that any merchant would leave their valuables unguarded, stranger yet still is the absence of any sort of activity. 

Emet-Selch peeks under the awning and through to the back room of that particular stall - it has a cup of steaming tea on the counter so it seems like the best chance that someone is nearby. "Is anyone there?" He calls, half curious and half annoyed at the lack of answers.

Just where is this, and what is this?

☔️ Sound and Light

The play starts again. 

It's debatable how long he has sat there watching, leaning against one of the stone walls in the amphitheater like some haphazardly placed thing. His legs are overlapped, his arm over his midriff, and he sits with half his side braced against the wall.  At first glance, it may look like he's sitting in such a way to coddle some injury.

Theaters seem comfortable by design even with this one's immensely uncomfortable seating. The distracting images, sounds, and silent hum all take his mind off the unpleasant reality of this situation: That he is somewhere far from those he cares about. Somewhere strange.
 
His brow furrows and he closes his eyes. "This is just as before." He mutters to no one in particular. 

☔️ Waking to a Nightmare

Emet-Selch peers around a corner to make sure he has not been followed. It had been on his heels just a moment ago. That person - how could he be here?

As he looks down the long road, all seems quiet and empty. It's a good time to catch his breath at least. Finally, a chance to reconcile the rest of this strangeness. 

All the same, his breath hitches as he hears a noise nearby. It's a small noise. Walking on cobblestone, perhaps. He turns around to meet it and sees someone that he's never encountered before. 

He puts a single finger up to his lips and gives a harsh "Shhh" sound. Even if it's the briefest sound it somehow comes across as irritated.