Cobwebs -- Gracen

[Colombina]

"Perhaps." The Symenestra again smiled without showing his teeth, a courteous gesture. "If you would be so good as to tell Mister Kiln to come back and end this ignominious game on your way out, I would greatly appreciate it." The widow leaned back from the table, showing he would continue his lack of interference with the splendid board of gems. "And, Versda," he spoke to Gracen's back, "If work like this suits you, ask Shepenma about the orb." Tent merchants had more boisterous and heated meetings than the one Gracen was exiting. As Shepenma promised, there was an abundance of civility despite the unfortunate subject matter. The woman was waiting for him downstairs. At the sight of the human, she suspended her conversation with the guard who must have been Menark. There was a glimmer of relief, and Gracen would suddenly understand there had been a chance of him not leaving the room. "My savage Inkara," she said with treacherous warmth, "You return unscathed. Did you pour honey in his ears?"

[Gracen]

"As you wish, Dovna," he replied, a snippet of Symenos he had picked up on his travels. And he nodded, implying he would ask. There was never too much work to be had. The more he acquired, the longer he could focus on the bloody path of revenge. "I did," he replied, "though without the poison for its sweetness to mask. He awaits you, Master Kiln, and the board remains untouched." He escorted the Lady outside, chivalrous as any Eypharian woman could desire in an exotic pet. When the raucousness of the conversations around them would drown him out, he said, "If you would take me to the Cultist, I will begin my investigation. When all is said and done, you really must tell me more about the orb."