Lucien Mallorek had said to visit in the morning. The fact the man had very few times before asked for Ewan to visit was a curiosity. Add to that the request it be the next morning, and Ewan knew it had some sense of imperative upon him. The delay from night before to morning the next day had allowed Ewan to continue his patrols from one Holding House to another, the three he still maintained contacts, as well as catch news of a few of the latest curiosities from the Tunnelers.
That morning, however, as he walked towards the shipyard, he kept above ground. There was sun that morning pushing at the hazy grasp of fog that crept across the waters and wiggled fingers down the byways of the city. The shift of night to daytime dwellers was hard to perceive, but the shadows became more certain, striking a bold line between shade and sunlight. Ewan did not creep along those shadowy corners.
He had no purpose to hide even if he had dressed for patrol instead of a leisurely stroll about town. Edges of the black arcane material peaked out beneath the bracers at his wrists and lay hidden beneath his tunic, trews, and armaments. The cross sheathed swords, one the gift from Sid, were comfortable against his back. His head, however, was uncovered unlike at night.
Though uncovered it was, his mind was not as open and unconcealed. Suspicions slunk around the corners of his mind, drifting into pathways of possibilities. Each was a shadowplay in his thoughts while the world that surrounded him played out its day, draped in the ordinary.
So it was when he arrived at the shipyard to meet with Lucien Mallorek, Master Barrister, he felt a slight tremor of the cage inside him. He had been called for a purpose and to keep that tremor from growing, he walked the yard inspecting the skeletons of ships until the man arrived.
That morning, however, as he walked towards the shipyard, he kept above ground. There was sun that morning pushing at the hazy grasp of fog that crept across the waters and wiggled fingers down the byways of the city. The shift of night to daytime dwellers was hard to perceive, but the shadows became more certain, striking a bold line between shade and sunlight. Ewan did not creep along those shadowy corners.
He had no purpose to hide even if he had dressed for patrol instead of a leisurely stroll about town. Edges of the black arcane material peaked out beneath the bracers at his wrists and lay hidden beneath his tunic, trews, and armaments. The cross sheathed swords, one the gift from Sid, were comfortable against his back. His head, however, was uncovered unlike at night.
Though uncovered it was, his mind was not as open and unconcealed. Suspicions slunk around the corners of his mind, drifting into pathways of possibilities. Each was a shadowplay in his thoughts while the world that surrounded him played out its day, draped in the ordinary.
So it was when he arrived at the shipyard to meet with Lucien Mallorek, Master Barrister, he felt a slight tremor of the cage inside him. He had been called for a purpose and to keep that tremor from growing, he walked the yard inspecting the skeletons of ships until the man arrived.