Winter 12, 516 AV
Estrellir had given up scarf and gloves, but she’d never sacrifice her coat to the warm weather. What residents called warm still felt chilly to her on occasion—besides, she needed its myriad pockets to house her collection of more or less useful knickknack. Late in the evening, having worked for bells on end, she crossed the bridge towards Zintia Peak wrapped tightly in wool and hood up. Approaching the other side, she noticed movement ahead and saw two familiar figures disappearing into an alley.
Of course, the news had traveled through town like lightning. Since then she’d spotted the trio several times, seeing as her lodgings belonged to Solar Apartments. Touching firm ground, Estrellir adjusted her hood and peeked into the alley.
The two men were halfway down, talking quietly. Both were handsome, she knew, but in vastly different ways. There and then, Estrellir decided to follow them—tail their steps a while, find out what they were up to. Possibly they were just looking for nightly entertainment and revelry, possibly they were still at work. Discussing the disappearance of poor Lana Winterflame and plotting the hunt. The Konti’s mouth twitched.
She’d been walking at a casual pace (the alley well-lit and far from deserted) and nearly bumped into the blonde priest during a moment of sour musings. Fortunately, she could avoid contact and slink away to the side. Hiding in the doorway to a small restaurant, she ventured a glance from under her hood.
The men had stopped and seemed to be discussing something. From her point of observation, Estrellir saw the tall sharp one had his brow furrowed in doubt. The blonde’s voice wafted over. “I’ve seen worse in Kenash, Mattais, I know how these things work. We give them two or three days max, then we apply pressure.” When Mattais replied, his voice was too low to make sense of the words.
Estrellir angled her body so that she could observe the two out of the corner of one eye, then slouched a little and took her time fumbling for her pipe. Once the weathered wood was in her hand, she took her time cleaning and filling it with tobacco. Trying to appear casual and not at all interested in words spoken by the priests—when in fact she had just caught on fire. The blonde, a Kenashian! Plans of drastic measures! Even though the Konti had taken a step back from spy to humble investigator, old habits were simply too hard to shake.
Estrellir had given up scarf and gloves, but she’d never sacrifice her coat to the warm weather. What residents called warm still felt chilly to her on occasion—besides, she needed its myriad pockets to house her collection of more or less useful knickknack. Late in the evening, having worked for bells on end, she crossed the bridge towards Zintia Peak wrapped tightly in wool and hood up. Approaching the other side, she noticed movement ahead and saw two familiar figures disappearing into an alley.
Of course, the news had traveled through town like lightning. Since then she’d spotted the trio several times, seeing as her lodgings belonged to Solar Apartments. Touching firm ground, Estrellir adjusted her hood and peeked into the alley.
The two men were halfway down, talking quietly. Both were handsome, she knew, but in vastly different ways. There and then, Estrellir decided to follow them—tail their steps a while, find out what they were up to. Possibly they were just looking for nightly entertainment and revelry, possibly they were still at work. Discussing the disappearance of poor Lana Winterflame and plotting the hunt. The Konti’s mouth twitched.
She’d been walking at a casual pace (the alley well-lit and far from deserted) and nearly bumped into the blonde priest during a moment of sour musings. Fortunately, she could avoid contact and slink away to the side. Hiding in the doorway to a small restaurant, she ventured a glance from under her hood.
The men had stopped and seemed to be discussing something. From her point of observation, Estrellir saw the tall sharp one had his brow furrowed in doubt. The blonde’s voice wafted over. “I’ve seen worse in Kenash, Mattais, I know how these things work. We give them two or three days max, then we apply pressure.” When Mattais replied, his voice was too low to make sense of the words.
Estrellir angled her body so that she could observe the two out of the corner of one eye, then slouched a little and took her time fumbling for her pipe. Once the weathered wood was in her hand, she took her time cleaning and filling it with tobacco. Trying to appear casual and not at all interested in words spoken by the priests—when in fact she had just caught on fire. The blonde, a Kenashian! Plans of drastic measures! Even though the Konti had taken a step back from spy to humble investigator, old habits were simply too hard to shake.