![]() 18th Day of Spring, 510 AV The chime of the 11th Bell is heard throughout Syliras... Pain sat motionless, wrapped in a filthy cloak that was meant for a man twice her size. Her back pressed against the stone surface of the wall behind her, and the boots of strangers continually kicked her outstretched feet out of their path. She was dressed as if a beggar, but that wasn't far from the truth these days. Her entire savings were gone... spent on physicians, and a healer of the more mystical kind. She had taken a beating unlike any other in her life, and to be honest she felt lucky to have gotten away with only losing Mizas out of the deal. She was back in true form, for the most part. Her arms were still a little rubbery... but that was fine. For now. It wasn't her arms that she needed today, only her vision. A pair of brown eyes followed the man through the crowd, taking in the details of his physique and habits. Pain gritted her teeth, trying to burn the facts she was gathering into her brain. She couldn't tell his exact height from the distance, but he looked to be well above six foot. Pain's right hand slithered to her side, where a piece of wrinkled vellum lay casually on the ground. Without taking her eyes off the man, she clutched a piece of sharpened graphite that lay beside it and scribbled in shorthand on the vellum. She was making a list. six ft (Six feet tall) hvy (heavy build) bald (Bald, no facial hair) mrk on L shldr - lines (Some sort of tattoo on his left shoulder, with intricate linework) Her gaze settled on his frame as he approached two other men, who seemed to be leaning against a wall about two dozen or so yards down the wide corridor. She couldn't make out any details of those men, as the light was sparse. The majority of Syliras was within the castle, which had it's definite drawbacks. During the day, only minimal light would slip in through small slots that were very high, and was augmented by sporadically placed torches and small fire pits. She could see the haze up near the ceiling, where the thin smoke produced by the man made fire made it's way to what Pain imagined must be an incredible ventilation system. "Dammit." Pain muttered, cursing her attention span. She had lost sight of them men as she gazed at the ceiling. She couldn't get up to look for them, not now. The man's lingering gaze had fallen upon her as he had walked by, and beggars typically didn't move much throughout the day. Pain herself had observed the beggars for a day or two to get an idea of their habits, after all. Instead, she resorted to calmly scanning the area without moving about much. She looked the part; dirty, caked with mud, filthy clothes, and keeping her head lowered as though she were ashamed. Occasionally she would even stretch her arm out with an open palm to passerbys to further solidify the act. She did just that, extending her arm and turning her palm up. Her sleeve was dirty, though it wasn't the long accumulated filthy of a typical beggar. She had taken the clothes she wore at the moment outside the city gates and simply pushed them through dirt and mud, wiping off the excess and smearing it into the fabrics. Her own hair was ever dirty, and much longer than normal. Three months rehabbing those injuries, and she hadn't bothered to have it cut for months before that. Matted black hair curled about her cheeks and down her neckline, probably the only immediate indicator that she was in fact a woman. Focusing too hard on the act. She had forgotten about the men... a group of three. And they were right on top of her. Pain's heart nearly skipped a beat. "Hey, look... a woman beggar. Hey honey, you need a place to stay? I got a bed for two, y'know." Spoke a man whom Pain vaguely recognized as one of the two her mark had conferred with a moment ago. Pain lowered her head further, and squeezed her eyes shut. Gods help her, she had drawn their attention somehow. She prayed that the big man, her mark, wouldn't see her. "Cut it out, Dez. You want to hit on that vagik when we're ten minutes away from the Soothing Waters? Get your fill there, boy. You ain't makin' me late for this appointment... she's my favorite." So close. Salvation, oddly enough, came in the form of her past aggressor's commanding tone. The one who had spoken to her seemed to concede to his advice, and hurried along behind him. With their backs to her, Pain flipped up the hood that had shrouded her face to get a look. Her hand instinctively found her stray pencil, and she went to her notes again. 3 (Three men in the "group") skny, short one = Dez (The man who had spoken to her was the skinniest and shortest of the three, who's name or nickname was apparently Dez) other med bld, med ht, red hair (The other man she hadn't seen much of, but he seemed of medium height and build and had a fiery red beard and hair) Soothing Waters??? Pain wrote the last entry more carefully, peering at the paper and examining what she knew so far. More importantly, she knew where they were going. All three seemed to be on their way to the Soothing Waters. Pain got to her feet, clutching the vellum note and pencil in her hand. How could she use this information? How could she turn such a worthless scribble into something valuable? And then, in a rare moment of calculation and plotting... a lopsided smile crept across Pain's lips. |