Accompanying an important lady all day has its risks, one being simply standing out.
Unlike his superior, Jorah traveled alone. He knew quite a bit about Arlathan. He knew few elderly elves still made offering to Sylaise. He carried with him a small, ring-sized jeweled box, hidden in his tunic. Jorah also knew the First Talon was in town, escorting a woman he had sworn an allegiance to. A very serious affair, he knew it to be. One that Jorah didn't have it in himself for. He thought to himself that the First Talon had more important business to attend to, which was a less treacherous thought than the idea the crow was hiding his greed behind romance. Either way, The First's affairs were none of his business.... His business today was with with the elders of Arlathan, and his wish to make an offering to Sylaise to pray for the health of his eldest son, despite the council's smothering of the traditions for the old gods. Jorah didn't believe much in Sylaise, but if there was a smidgen of a chance of it helping Tomas, he would travel the world to pray for anything.
The cult of Sylaise was, at the least, underground, and at worst, eradicated. Many were outraged when the old gods disappeared and their prayers began to go unanswered. Jorah needed to find them, to give his offering, and to make his prayers. He disembarked in Arlathan 20 years older, his hair dyed white, circular false-spectacles bringing out the wrinkles in his face. He looked as old as he felt, and with a touch of a bad posture and a stiff gait, no one would recognize him. He began by searching out the daughter of the old high priest, a woman who's done her best to disappear like him. He deceived her for directions to the old temple, censored from maps to prevent further violence just as much as stopping people like him. Either way, the crow had his trail, and, his warning. The way would be difficult. More difficult than he'd expected, and with little confidence in lady luck, he decided to find someone who could help him.
The bonfires were lit by the time he made his way back to the center of the festivities. He hobbled in a manner that made him pity himself even more. He found the crow at his typical haunt, finally away from his lady as the evening was now late. He approached, disguised in all but his voice. The First was not a man he approached often, but today, they were two compatriots in a sea of foreigners.
[color=orange]"I've got something to show you,"[/color] he said in a low tone beside Devante, [color=orange]"but the way is not safe."[/color] He doubted the First Talon would care about a dilapidated temple in the wilderness several miles outside the city, so better to leave that part out.
Unlike his superior, Jorah traveled alone. He knew quite a bit about Arlathan. He knew few elderly elves still made offering to Sylaise. He carried with him a small, ring-sized jeweled box, hidden in his tunic. Jorah also knew the First Talon was in town, escorting a woman he had sworn an allegiance to. A very serious affair, he knew it to be. One that Jorah didn't have it in himself for. He thought to himself that the First Talon had more important business to attend to, which was a less treacherous thought than the idea the crow was hiding his greed behind romance. Either way, The First's affairs were none of his business.... His business today was with with the elders of Arlathan, and his wish to make an offering to Sylaise to pray for the health of his eldest son, despite the council's smothering of the traditions for the old gods. Jorah didn't believe much in Sylaise, but if there was a smidgen of a chance of it helping Tomas, he would travel the world to pray for anything.
The cult of Sylaise was, at the least, underground, and at worst, eradicated. Many were outraged when the old gods disappeared and their prayers began to go unanswered. Jorah needed to find them, to give his offering, and to make his prayers. He disembarked in Arlathan 20 years older, his hair dyed white, circular false-spectacles bringing out the wrinkles in his face. He looked as old as he felt, and with a touch of a bad posture and a stiff gait, no one would recognize him. He began by searching out the daughter of the old high priest, a woman who's done her best to disappear like him. He deceived her for directions to the old temple, censored from maps to prevent further violence just as much as stopping people like him. Either way, the crow had his trail, and, his warning. The way would be difficult. More difficult than he'd expected, and with little confidence in lady luck, he decided to find someone who could help him.
The bonfires were lit by the time he made his way back to the center of the festivities. He hobbled in a manner that made him pity himself even more. He found the crow at his typical haunt, finally away from his lady as the evening was now late. He approached, disguised in all but his voice. The First was not a man he approached often, but today, they were two compatriots in a sea of foreigners.
[color=orange]"I've got something to show you,"[/color] he said in a low tone beside Devante, [color=orange]"but the way is not safe."[/color] He doubted the First Talon would care about a dilapidated temple in the wilderness several miles outside the city, so better to leave that part out.
03-25-2023, 11:55 AM
