70th Spring 517 AV
Midday
Midday
There was an element of care that Fallon usually did not present herself with. A state and effort that she left only for the most important of occasions, a time where presence and effect was key. Everything was cleaned, the layers neatly brought together, the leathers and metals polished to produce a dull shine. Where mud caked some pieces, it had been picked off, brushed away - or replaced with something of a much finer cut. The fabrics themselves may have been far from exquisite, but all of them were finished to a high quality and decorated. Practicality would always be the order of the day, no matter the occasion.
Serpents in knot work around the collar and down the chest, forearms bare, nails freed from grime. She paused only to pull on the doublet, her right hand struggling briefly with the finer movements. Her lips twitched angrily, focus going into something she would have found simple a few years ago that was now becoming hard. The traveller's eyes focused on the angry, knotted scar that ran through the palm of it before she tugged the glove over it. The kukri sheath was pulled on, a long string of ribbon tying the hilt to the sheath and essentially peace bonding it. With a few other pats of her person, the first noting the notebook and writing tools within her belt pouch, she gave an approving nod before heading to the White Swan Inn.
All pleasant charms and smiles, small curls of the lips upon her way. It was an invitation, and while she externally behaved light footed and care free, the mind began to turn with machinations. It was on the request of Sera Natasha Druva, once patron of Fallon during her time as a squire. The fact a member of the Knighthood had come to seek her out was one thing, but with the offer of a meal? It was hard to not be suspicious, more so with the higher tastes of the establishment. No, it lead only to questions, and locked in place the idea that this was certainly more than just a reunion.
What could she want? No, what would the Knights want? To feed a sense of guilt and remorse for leaving the order all those years ago? No, that was not her style. Least, not as I recall...
Entry was given easily into the Swan, a few quiet words exchanged between her and one of the attendants. Druva had yet to arrive, and so she was left waiting by the central fire. It was good really, she had never been inside before and it allowed her to sip a drink in contemplation. She spied two exits, the first being the door she just came through, the other the staff seemed to occasionally hover through. Of course the eyes ever turned around the room, counting the bodies, clicking together the features of those who were also partaking in lunch. And all the while, Fallon had to tug down the wolffish smirk that was beginning to form.
Oh, how I do love a good mystery....
