Mordecai Heller's page

Mordecai doesn't talk all that much, especially as things get less certain, the cat-headed tiefling leading you through back alleys, dark hallways, and an occasional burned-out ruin. He is not as quiet as you are, but with those feline eyes, he often sees trouble long before it can reach you, and draws you aside to wait for it to pass.

Once he reaches your door, he gives you a courteous, if abbreviated, bow. "There is no need to prepare anything while plans are in motion, Madamoiselle Karapetyan," Mordecai states. "Even I recognize that the concerns of one's toilette --" this is meant, of course, as the care one takes with one's cleanliness, scent, neatness of outfitting, and such "-- must take second when more critical things are to occur in a timely manner. A very -- close -- second, but second nevertheless. Until Fireday evening, madamoiselle, I bid you good hunting."

It cannot be said he vanishes into the evening, but the long dark coat which ripples around his dark-furred form makes all of him blend into the night with fair rapidity.

The black-furred 'feline' gives a thoughtful 'hmmm' for a moment. "That," he muses, "does sound better than what I've been using. I have something from one of the perfumiers in La Lumière Rouge," he explains. "And like you said, because of the ... wealth of my fur, the scent lingers rather more than with more normal folk. Though I've no particular ability to smell things more than others, it's ... annoying," he adds with an audible sniff -- irony, if unintended.

Glancing about once again, the dapper tiefling steps into the alley, turning towards towards your shop. He keeps up the conversation in his usual cultured tones, excepting only that he keeps to a low murmur. Not a whisper -- whispers can be heard for much further than one can hear a murmur, for the former is harsh, and the latter fades into the natural sounds of the river and the city.

Without hesitation -- and having tucked away the small red-shining lantern he'd been holding with his cat's tail, more for your own convenience than for his -- he leads you out into the night, which for him is as bright as daylight. There are, of course, a few necessary pauses when it becomes necessary to make a decision on which way to go: the 'safe' route away from the ever-burning lamp-posts at major intersections, but through alleys which may have their own dangers (though away from the potential complications of interference by the gangs), or the 'fast' route through those intersections, risking exposure after dark.