"My first priority is the butcher shop. So complete whatever business you may have and we'll look into it, and then report back to Cressida."
You part ways at the plaza as Emi's path will take her directly downslope to the riverfront, while those destined for the temple can take a more direct route to the Jeggare Bridge.
The reaction of the crowd at the bridge to seeing your red cloaks is a mixed one. Several people try to push their way toward you shouting out claims of damaged property, missing people, assaults and burglaries. One man reaches out for Kayleigh and manages to grasp her shoulder, before he's hit in the head with a rock thrown from somewhere else in the crowd. It's not hard to deduce that the rock probably wasn't meant for him and you find it hard not to run to escape the press.
As you mount the steps to the temple you realize that yours are the only red cloaks in sight. There's still no security here, though perhaps that's something you can begin to do something about.
Garlan admits you to the temple and by the look in his eyes you can tell that there's something wrong. Once the bar has been safely dropped again he waves you back to the Milanite chapel and eases that door open. Beyond you see a man seated among the pews, his head cast back and pointed at the chapel ceiling, mouth agape. As you look back to Garlan for some explanation, the man lets out a tremendous snore, briefly comes to and looks around, then promptly passes back out. The reek of alcohol fills the room. The man wears the red cloak of the guard.
---
Emileva's trip back to Zellara's old flat is uneventful. The apartment proves as deserted as the last time she was here. The air in the place is stuffy, its windows shut tight against intruders and its curtains drawn. There's no remnant today of the spirit that once dwelt here, and no sign that anyone's come to check into the state of the place now that its previous inhabitant has passed.
Regeris looks over the guardsman with disdain before letting out a miserable sigh.
"Poor bastard. Is everything all right with him Garlan? Or just drunk? Well let's see how drunk."
With a shrug, Regeris approaches the man and gives him a rough shake.
As Regeris approaches the sleeping man, Nebbin whispers (somewhat loudly) to Kayleigh: "I didn't think you were supposed to sleep in church..."
"Oh, I hope Emi wasn't wearing her guard's cloak when she went off on her own--this is exactly the sort of thing I was afraid of!" Kayleigh says to the others as the crowd begins to press in on them and elements of it become unruly. Kayleigh doesn't stop moving, but she does try to address some of her fellow citizens' concerns. She says that property damage and burglaries are something each person will have to report to a guard station; as for assaults and reports of missing persons, she says that she and her deputized friends will do what they can to curb violence on the streets.
When the man grabs her shoulder and takes a rock to the head, Kayleigh calls for calm and burns one of her daily positive energy channels to heal the man's head wound (as well as any lingering wounds of anyone within 30 feet), but she keeps moving, saying that the group has other missions they must attend to first.
When she sees the drunk guard inside the shrine back at the Temple of Aroden, she's thankful Regeris takes the lead in dealing with him. She whispers to Garlan that he should get Kevlin ready to be returned to his parents and then listens to whatever the drunk man has to say for himself.
Tassira pointedly avoids looking at the angry crowd as the party returns to the temple of Aroden.
Upon seeing the drunken guardsman sitting in one of the pews, and seeing Regeris try to shake him awake, the mageling clears her throat. "Excuse me... sir?"
After giving the house a once-over, Emileva continues on back to Old Korvosa. She walks across the district, then starts up the hill.
Emi had omitted her second destination from the itinerary she had given Kayleigh. Inquiring about jobs is actually third, and if time permits today.
She had to ask the way a couple of times, but she has no problem finding Vencarlo Orisini's place. She knocks on the door and waits.
It isn't that she lied to Kayleigh, she is just protecting her privacy. His invitation to visit had been extended to her, not a group. The things he had said to Emi were gratifying, flattering, and she wanted to keep something for herself alone.
-------------------------------
Temple of Aroden
-------------------------------
"Wha-- who the hells!" the man mutters as his eyes fly open. He braces himself then surges onto unsteady feet, knocking Regeris back and almost oversetting the next pew. Your conclusion is that he's very drunk. He reeks of sweat, alcohol and perhaps just a touch of vomit, though thankfully you've not seen any of that in the chapel.
Seeing Nebbin's huge looming form he gets a big confused grin on his face.
"Neffi! What?! How did you get here? Look, I'm a guard now!" He stands there smiling unsteadily, hands spread to show his attire and clearly expecting a response from his long lost something-or-other.
-----------------------------
Orisini Academy
-----------------------------
Vencarlo's fencing school is an elegant white building of two stories with a walled courtyard, a front balcony and huge oak doors. It sits off to itself near the Garrison wall and close by the much larger and well known Endrin Academy, where the Fort Korvosa guard and Sable company knights are garrisoned. Emi uses a knocker fashioned like a dragon head to knock and then waits patiently.
After a few moments a tall man about Emileva's age answers the door. He's dressed in the all-white attire of a fencer, though without the mask or foil. From the room behind him Emi can hear the tell-tale clash of dueling foils and the soft leather scrape of feet as they dance the dance.
"Hello," he says, looking down on her with dark, suspicious eyes. "How can I help you?"
Kayleigh looks at Nebbin as well, clearly not recognizing the fellow herself.
A friend of yours?" she asks the big man. "Or someone so drunk they can't see straight?"
Emileva looks straight back into the man's eyes.
"Good day Sir, I am here to call on Master Orisini by his invitation. Please tell him Emileva Mavrakis is at the door. He will know me from the Temple of Aroden."
"I think it's Grau Soldado," Nebbin replies. "He's a watch captain from the local guard unit. He's supposed to be a really good swordsman, but also a really good drinker."
He finishes his summation in a near-whisper.
"But I don't think we know each other. He must think I'm this Neffi person. Who I don't know. Do any of you know a Neffi?"
-------------------------------
Temple of Aroden
-------------------------------
"Of course it's me!" he slurs. "Best damned sword arm in the watch!" He draws his sword with a flourish and promptly drops it with a clatter at his own feet. He bends over to retrieve it and smacks his head on the pew in front of him, causing him to drop back down into his seat.
"How did you get Paltro's blade out of your guts, Neffi?" Grau ponders in murmured confusion. "Paltro killed you dead. Dead as the King!"
He looks up at Nebbin with clouded eyes, hand rubbing the blossoming bruise on his forehead. "What're we gonna do now that you're dead, Neffi? The whole city's gone to s#@~! The guard's the same!"
He leans over again to fish his sword out from between his feet and strikes his head on the pew a second time. Happily this time he's already seated. He kicks the pew angrily.
-----------------------------
Orisini Academy
-----------------------------
"I'll see this visitor, Dengaro", Vencarlo's voice calls as he comes up behind the fencer. "Please continue taking the class through the forms. Fifteen minutes and then break into sparring partners."
Dengaro deflects to his master, gives Emi a last look, then strides down the hall toward the sounds of the exercises. Vencarlo opens the door wider, letting Emileva in. He's dressed in the same fencing gear as his students, mask under his arm, long salt and pepper hair tied back.
"I'm glad to see you here," he says, taking Emi's hand in greeting. "How fare our aged priests of the God of Man?"
As you exchange greetings he leads Emi down a side hall, away from the sounds of his class. He stops at the door of a well-appointed private office and holds it for her, motioning her to her choice of comfortable seats.
"I'm dead?" Nebbin asks in his usual horror and panic. "But I don't think I'm dead. Is it because we went into Zellara's, so we're dead but not dead too? Are we vampires?!? Or Zombies? I don't want to be a skeleton!"
"Nebbin, you're not dead." Tassira sighs before turning to Grau. "Mr. Soldado, is it? What are you doing here? Why are you drunk, and not at your post?"
Regeris looks at Nebbin for a pregnant moment before sighing.
"Nebbin, I think he's mistaken you for someone else. You're fine."
Ignoring the guard's mutterings, he looks to the others.
"He's probably drunk because being a guard captain is awful. We should either give him somewhere quiet to sleep it off, or we can walk him to a guard post or something long those lines."
"The priests are well, and as admirably stubborn as you probably expect. I suggested relocating to someplace more discreet for a while, until things settle down. They wouldn't consider it. There was another break-in yesterday evening, nothing serious, and they are still holding firm."
After they are seated Emileva brings up the brooch.
"We took the brooch to Captain Croft this morning as you suggested. We were summarily labelled "concerned citizens" and offered deputization. She let us into the guard armory and I came away with those." Emi indicates the breastplate and rapier sitting on the floor beside her.
Picking up the rapier, she looks at Orisini. "So, it seemed to me just the right time to come for the conversation you mentioned about the relative gracefulness of weapons."
-------------------------------
Temple of Aroden
-------------------------------
Grau struggles to maintain focus on the people around him. He squints his eyes in concentration as Tassira levels her question.
"My... post," he stammers. He shakes his head, then suddenly seems to notice for the first time the red cloaks some of you wear. "My post?! Where is my post? Where is your post? Who in the hells are you to wear the cloak of the guard. Pretenders! No better than Verik and his lot! You're no guard members - no more than the rest! No more than me!"
Again he lurches to his feet. Somehow he's regained his weapon and something of his balance, for his tumble over the pew and into the little space left in the chamber is almost graceful. He levels the sword at the lot of you, alternately pointing it at one and then the other before settling on Neffi.
You are false! Draw your blade and defend yourself! I challenge you to a duel. All the false guards can fight amongst themselves. If we all kill each other, maybe the city does have a chance!"
-----------------------------
Orisini Academy
-----------------------------
Orisini's smile lights up the room. He really is a very handsome man.
"Yes! Just so!" He stands and walks over to Emi's side, offering to take the rapier. He takes the blade up, measuring it's balance and peering down the edge looking for faults.
"An adequate weapon, though the edge could use some work. So many enemies will lose their nerve when they see or feel their own blood running. The slightest nick can provoke this discomfort, drawing away the opponent's attention and allowing you the split-second you need to give him something more serious to think about."
He reverses the blade and offers it back to Emileva, pommel first.
"Would you honor me with a first dance? I have a private dueling room just down the hall where we might run through some motions. Without seeing you move I'm not entirely sure where it's most appropriate to start."
Tassira sighs in a mix of exasperation & resignation.
"Sergeant Soldado, there's no need for that. We've been recently hired by Captain Cressida Kroft as irregulars, and we're planning on investigating Verik and his crew once we have a chance to do so. There's no need for you to draw your sword--please, sit down and calm down."
-------------------------------
Temple of Aroden
-------------------------------
Cressida's name seems to bring the drunk man back to his senses, such as they are. He lowers his blade again, tip to the ground. He looks around at the chapel, perhaps remembering where he is. The sword clatters to the floor a second time and he practically falls back into the front seating, his hands rubbing his temples.
"I... I'm sorry. I've been drinking. Too much."
"I can't think straight. I can't remember why I came here. You're right, though. Verik is the enemy - yours and mine."
"I need to sleep this off..."
He starts to make himself comfortable on the front row pew.
Regeris looks over the man sadly.
"We should either take him to a nearby guard post so he can sober up or make him comfortable so he can sleep this off. I think I'd prefer if we got him to a guard post so he's with those who are actually responsible for him. Anyone want to help me walk him?"
Nebbin lets out a long sigh of relief as he's first assured that he's not dead and then realizes he won't have to fight a duel that he's woefully unprepared for.
"But it sounds like the guards may be bad. Maybe we should let him sleep here, and then maybe he'll help us stop Verik or at least tell us what to do?"
As Vencarlo talks, about the rapier and other things, Emileva finds herself smiling warmly back at him. His easy enthusiasm and expansiveness are infectious. She likes him.
She does notice the odd position of his two fingers. Probably a wound that did not heal correctly. But it seems rude to her to inquire about it.
She takes the rapier back from Vancarlo when he offers it. "It would be my great pleasure Sir. Hopefully I remember something of what little I learned."
Emi unclasps her armored coat and takes it off, dropping it on the chair she sat in. She takes both her swords and follows Vencarlo. She expected something like this would come up, but now it has, a weight sinks in her stomach.
Most of what she learned and knows is quick, dirty fighting with the goal of putting an adversary down as fast as possible. Her education with weapons centered on campaigns and warfare. Her falchion is a tool of that type, good in most any situation. Rapier was touched on too, but not that much. Dueling is a different beast. At the academy it was assumed students would engage a private tutor for that type of training.
This is going to be really embarrassing. Hopefully he's more of an evangelist than a critic.
Kayleigh's eyes fluctuate wildly...as wildly as Grau Soldado's actions and emotions. When the drunk seems sorrowful, Kayleigh's eyes hold pity; when he starts waving his sword around and challenging Nebbin to a duel, they turn angry...maybe even vengeful. When the drunk lies down to nap in the pew, Kayleigh approaches Regeris.
"I like your idea about taking him back to the guard post; that way we can see how the other guards react to his condition and--if we wear our nice new cloaks--how they react to having some new guards patrolling the neighborhood." When she sees the drunk already snoring, though, she adds, "It might be easier to let him sleep it off here, though."
Again her eyes harden. "I'll not have another guard harm anyone inside these walls," Kayleigh says resolutely. "If he's to stay here, I mean to take away his sword and other weapons. And if he's carrying some manacles...I might just slip them on him to make sure he can't hurt anyone."
Regeris looks at Kayleigh before nodding once.
"Let's take him to the guard post. It's where I'd want to be if I was him. This is about getting him back to somewhere he's safe - and we're safe from him as well if he's unfriendly to our interests."
He glances over to Kayleigh.
"And keep in mind that Cressida told us clearly this Verik fellow needs to be brought to justice. He has gone rogue. I have no love for the gaurd but I don't imagine the entire city is on standing orders to make our lives difficult."
-----------------------------
Orisini Academy
-----------------------------
The training session with Vencarlo begins rough, but gets better quickly. Even though Emi believes he's taking it easy on her early on, he still manages to touch several times in the first moments. Try as she might, Emi's weapon does not come close to a score.
"With this weapon the focus is truly on economy of motion. The stance narrows your opponent's target. Movement at the base of the weapon is defensive, movement at the tip is about drawing blood."
The two settle into a pattern of thrust and parry and Emileva soon finds her training with the weapon coming back and establishing itself.
"You have brilliant speed, enough to make up for the atrophied technique." he says with an admiring smile. "Perhaps I was that fast fifteen years ago, but no longer. But technique can compensate where speed and strength fails. And age is of course not the only thing that will rob you of these natural gifts. A wound, an uneven surface, a distraction - even an insult or a slight that makes you over-aggressive. Outrage is a gift to the butcher and death to the duelist."
He dances in and scores three touches in quick succession. If he's slower today than he's been in the past, he must have once been a frightfully good swordsman. He raises his weapon and inclines his head, indicating the end of the sparring. He reverses his stance to stand directly next to Emi, then demonstrates the combination slowly, drawing her attention to the little details that bring the advantages.
The two of you go on like this for longer than Emi realizes, and the sweat soon runs freely down her back. After the dancing is finished and the blades sheathed Vencarlo offers more encouragement.
"You must come back and continue these lessons when your time allows. I can tell you have a good heart and head to match, Emileva. Our city needs more people like you watching out for it's citizens. Many of them are poorly equipped to deal with the times they find themselves in."
"You have much natural talent, and a very good start toward professional technique. You must let me be your coach." It's not really phrased as a question.
-------------------------------
Temple of Aroden
-------------------------------
The guard post that covers the jurisdiction of Old Dock is on the far eastern extreme of the district, just shy of the riverfront warehouses. Is this where you intend to take Grau, or do you mean to take him to Citadel Volshyenek? The latter is a very long walk with such a bulky load (Grau is a well-muscled man with an unfortunate tire forming around his midsection thanks to his habit of diving to the bottom of the nearest bottle). He now seems well and truly gorked and doesn't respond to your provocations, so he's not very likely to make it easy on you.
Also, if you're taking him somewhere, are you doing this immediately, or waiting for Emileva's return? Taking Kevlin with you, or splitting up?
Kayleigh asks Grau if he's up for a walk to the nearest guard post. When the man replies with a long, snorting snore, Kayleigh frowns in distaste and then makes good on her previous threat, removing all the man's weapons and locking him in his own manacles (assuming the guard has a set).
With a sigh she takes the weapons into another room. When she returns, bearing a blanket, it's clear the young woman's growing exasperated. She gently drapes the blanket over Grau before shaking her head.
"At this point I think it makes the most sense for Grau to sleep it off here," she tells the others. "Once Emi gets back we can decide on our next action."
Still frowning, the girl adds, "And I'll be a bit underpowered spell-wise until the Pharasmins come and take away Amistan and Zellara--I've used up most of my spell quota to preserve their remains. If we run into trouble at the butcher shop, I'll be a bit limited in my healing capabilities."
Emileva leaves Orisini Academy tired but feeling better than she has in a long time.
She had thanked Vencarlo for both his encouragement and generosity, and agreed to return whenever time permitted.
She's not as convinced as Orisini that the duelist way is the way. It seems to her too bound by assumptions that all parties will adhere to certain conventions. What about animals? Ogres or whatever?
But, versatility is always better, she knows that much. More tricks, more options, means better surviving whatever might come along. Besides, she knows as she walks along and feels all those fatigued muscles one forgets are even there, she's been going to pot over the last several months. If going to see Vencarlo will arrest her slide, something she doesn't seem to be able or willing to do on her own, so be it. It always helps to have someone in your corner telling you that you are capable and worth the time.
When Emi finds the others at the temple, she also finds the guard Grau of course. She doesn't need to get all that close to him to smell what the problem is.
"You have those cloaks for less than a day, and you're already corrupting the other guardsmen?" she remarks sarcastically.
"Ha ha! Very funny!" Kayleigh replies pertly, but having Emileva back safe at the temple brings a smile to the priestess's face. "Actually, this fellow here had the temerity to raise his blade against us--his fellow guard members! You'd have been proud at the way I expertly disarmed him. Meaning, of course, that I waited until he passed out and then stole all his weapons!"
"Shall we reunite young Kevlin with his parents now? And from there do we move against Vancaskerkin and his fellow deserters?"
"Do you know where his parents live? Best to get it done first."
"Let's deal with that first."
Regeris intervenes as Kayleigh moves to manacle him.
"He was so drunk he didn't recognize anyone and he is a captain. I support disarming him, but you could bring trouble against this temple if he wakes up in shackles. He's going to have a hangover from hell and is not going to be a threat to anyone, particularly considering the five of us are armed and combat ready. It is highly unlikely he's some minion of Verik's considering his rank."
Shaking his head, he gets his gear together.
"Let's go."
Kayleigh stands quietly, arms folded, as she musters up enough courage to stand up to Regeris.
"I'm not leaving him here alone with the priests and children," she states flatly and perhaps a bit petulantly. "He's already drawn his weapon once for no good reason; if he comes around while we're out he could hurt someone."
With a resigned sigh she turns to Nebbin. "I hate to ask you to lug someone around again, but could you carry Grau to the eastern watch station? We can drop him off there and then proceed to North Point with Kevlin."
"We could make a stretcher. Nebbin and I could carry him easily that way. We can drop him off on the way and be done with the whole thing."
Emi goes to look around for a couple of poles and a spare sheet or blanket.
Regeris sighs.
"Go, deal with Kevlin. I will watch this Grau and make sure he doesn't kill everyone when he wakes up."
Kevlin is very excited when he hears he's going home. The other orphans gather around him to give congratulations and say their goodbyes before you get yourselves together and head out.
but is otherwise standoffish and seems to be avoiding Carawyn.
It seems they've quarreled.
The walk through the crowds is less eventful this time. No one grabs you or attacks. There are sullen looks and a palpable feeling that the crowd is parting before your red cloaks. One old woman sitting atop an abandoned wagon nods her head as you walk by. She removes her pipe long enough to remark to her neighbors.
"Well, they ain't exactly BlackJack, but they'll do if they scare some of this street trash back into the shadows."
The greeting you get at Kevlin's home is much warmer this time. Parents and child are reunited and you're filled with a warm sense of accomplishment. The father presses a bag of coin into Nebbin's hand.
"I wish it could be more," he says, wiping away tears. "You deserve more, and if there's anything we can do to help you in the future, please come see us."
The mother takes Kayleigh to the side before you go.
"With the streets like this, I'm most concerned at present with keeping all my brood safe, but once things calm down we wish to bring our family to hear your sermons. Will you continue to worship at the Temple of Aroden? May we join you there?"
---
Back at the temple, Grau snores away his drunk with abandon.
Regeris spends his time at the temple cleaning, repairing what he can (not being particularly handy) and checking in on their guest/prisoner now and again.
As they are preparing to leave with Kevlin, Emileva notices the awkwardness between Hal, Carawyn, and possibly Kevlin? She sighs internally. Welcome to the war Sweetie.
Watching the orphans brings up some odd feelings for Emi. She's like them, an orphan. But on the other hand, she had her uncle, so she's more like Kevlin. She had a place where she knew she belonged. Until she f&~~ed that up of course. But it makes her wonder, as they are congratulating him on his return home, how do the others really feel about it? Jealousy? Hope that someday they will have what Kevlin has in some way as well? Are they really happy for him? Or do they think that there is a chance, just maybe, he will like one of them enough take them as well?
She's not sure why thoughts along those lines continue to bother her as they make the walk to Kevlin's house, but they do, and they ruin her earlier good mood.
The old woman's comment about them pulls Emi to the immediate enough for her to smirk. Right, we're no Blackjack for sure. We're real, and we're flailing. Best of luck to you, you'll need it.
By the time the group nears Kevlin's home, the thought of meeting Kevlin's grateful parents and seeing his happy return makes Emileva want to crawl out of her skin.
"Tell you what" she says to the others. "I've been on my feet all day and I'm worn out. I'm going to take a load off here" She gestures with her thumb toward a tavern they are passing. "and grab a drink. Stop by and pick me up when you're done."
Although she catches the weird vibes emanating from Carawyn and Hal, Kayleigh says nothing to them at the time: She doesn't want to plant false hopes (or angst) that they'll ever see Kevlin again...especially not with all the social upheaval and anarchy in Korvosa's streets.
When Kevlin's mother takes her aside and asks about attending services, Kayleigh blushes furiously and admits that right now, 'services' she performs consists of saying a few words and reading a short passage from The Light of Hope on the first day of each month.
"Another Milanite recently arrived in the city and is also based out of the Temple of Aroden," she tells Mrs. Hillbrake. "We intend on practicing out of that temple--the priests of Aroden have given their blessing--and maybe now that there are two of us, we'll have services on a more consistent basis, but...."
Kayleigh feels duty-bound to warn Mrs. Hillbrake of the recent attacks on the temple and the violent element currently in the streets of Old Korvosa. She also lets the woman know that Kevlin has made friends amongst the orphans currently housed there.
"Perhaps, once things have calmed down some, you and Kevlin could visit the temple: his new friends would love to see him again. Perhaps I could even arrange an escort, if it takes a while for the streets to become safe again."
"We'd like that," the matron says with a smile. You collectively say your goodbyes to Kevlin and his parents.
The small pouch contains 100 gp. No royal fortune, but a sizable reward for a modest family like the Hillbrakes. Added to your treasury, you're starting to amass a substantial sum.
Let me know if I missed something:
Previous total after item liquidation - 1061g 3s (from a post dated 2/5/17)
Reward from brooch - 2000g
Hillbrake reward - 100g
Total - 3161g 3s
Communal treasure:
Harrow Deck
Gaedran's Lamm's encoded journal
inscribed silver ring appraised at 75g
inscribed key-shaped dagger appraised at 325g
Emileva's drink amounts to a cup of house red that looks a little more like house brown. The grit at the bottom of the cup makes her want to chase it with something - perhaps not purchased from this particular establishment.
The two other patrons in the place are arguing politics of all things, proving that no place and nobody is too low to have an opinion. Their conversation doesn't amount to much that sounds very factual, but they do end up agreeing that the best thing for the city would be for the Arkona family to make a power-play for the throne.
"They're business people, you understand. They know all about the profits and the losses, costs and rev'noo streams and whatnot. They's got their fingers in every market in the city. They keep the Garrison Hill guard in funds, an I heard tell that Garrison Hill is just as reg'lar as Citadel Hill these days. Whole city could use a big dose of Vudrani gold."
"As long as it ain't that old bugger Toff Ornelos," the barkeep replies. "All wizards is bad, and that one teaches the lot of 'em. Figures he's the one teachin 'em to be that way. The longer them gates at the 'cadamy stay closed, the better. I say keep them wizards and their devils all bottled up in the same place where its easier to keep an eye on em."
Emi swirls and tips her cup, watching the grit slide this way and that.
I need to pick up a journal or something. Too many things to keep track of without writing them down.
After leaving the Hillbrakes' residence, Kayleigh leads the others toward the tavern where they dropped off Emileva. En route, the priestess quietly asks Tassira, "How well do you know Emileva? Do you think there's something going on with her? I mean, she's always going off on her own. Something just seems off to me. And how old is she? I thought she was about my age but then I looked at her a bit closer and think she may be even younger. Sure, she seems pretty street-smart and able to take care of herself, but...I still worry about her."
"How well do you know Emileva? Do you think there's something going on with her? I mean, she's always going off on her own. Something just seems off to me."
"Well..." The question gets Tassira thinking. "...we met after barely recovering from a shiver overdose. She always struck me as someone who appreciates her privacy." She shakes her head. "Unless she's having a relapse, I don't think we have much to worry about with her going off on her own."
"And how old is she? I thought she was about my age but then I looked at her a bit closer and think she may be even younger."
"She's about seventeen winters, last she told me." She shrugs. "Only three years younger than me."