|
[ rules ] [ setting ] [ players ] [ archives ]
t the door, Tonar can hear the doubled footsteps. There seems to be a whispered conversation going on between the soldier and the girl, one voice tense, the other almost amused. He can also hear the guesthouse's other patrons behind him. "...can't help but wonder," someone says. "Bloody unusual sword to bring into Moruhan, that's for sure." A glance tells him that this is one of the locals, grey-haired and bespectacled, but his bearing is that of a man who once knew war. "I've seen Sorevvan swords and they don't look like that. Maybe booty from further west. I bet it's bloody fine metalwork inside that scabbard, though, almost a match for Summersea steel." Tonar allows himself an instant's smile at the backhanded compliments Deathbringer always draws as he continues to scan his surroundings. While his demeanor remains relaxed, his practiced mind clicks through an assessment of the physical layout. Useful information should a fast retreat with girl in tow become required. Yet, best to try a different tack first. On this floor, the tables (though rather small, from his viewpoint) are evenly spaced, with enough room between tables (and accompanying chairs) for a person--even one of Tonar's bulk--to pass easily. Getting out in a hurry might be difficult, though, since there are always serving men and women moving about with carefully balanced trays, and people entering and leaving; it's a fairly busy time of day for this guesthouse. There are scrolls on the wall depicting semi-abstract scenes of dancing birds and flames, but they are made of paper--heavy paper, to be sure, but no use as any sort of defense. The other conversations continue, whether those who speak are gamblers or textile merchants; everyone seems to have dropped the subject of Qenaren soldiers, locals, and the girl, though some of them at least seem to be acquainted with her. The other servants, male and female, glance toward the door, shake their heads, and continue in their duties. The mercenary gives his head a shake and chuckles ruefully as he starts upstairs. "Will this one never learn the proper ways?" he asks the thin air as he ascends.
Back: Tonar's Story 1 Celtic knot courtesy of Celtic Faery.
|
