also still waiting on Impulse. 

Big things planned, so here's hoping. 

Hey guys, I'm delaying the update until I get a post from *everyone*  

But I wanted to give you all an idea of how and when I dole out XP. Because of the unique storytelling afforded by a play-by-post system, I award XP for:

• Posting


• Asking questions in the Q&A thread (as long as it relates to your character, the story, NPCs, etc. Questions that show involvement) 


• Combat


• Involved RP 


• Clever solutions

I hope everyone has been enjoying the wonderful spring weathter! I can't wait to get you guys out on the road! 

Of course, Maggie mused, anything to get rid of your troublesome younger sister, and nearly frowned. But the prospect of getting away for a bit appealed to her. And there was sure to be some excitement on this mission. Maggie tossed a nod to her sister and rose at the end of the meeting, Catching Crowe's eye, she winked, a grin wide on her face. "Need a bit o' time to make yer bunk a proper place ta entertain a lady...or two?" At that, she winked ant Cracker and laughed lightly. "If ya be up for it, I'll stop by in a bit ta hear more about this trip."

whatever gets me away from this accursed rock, she sighed to herself. 

Had a few things come up, will update Monday. Thanks for the posts this weekk, i love them ! 

You're free to go anywhere. You aren't limited to just the options presented - you just need to bring up your ideas. For example, if you wanted to focus on Lya's murder, Bory might suggest a visit to his mentor to learn more, since his letter to Bory mentioned the death of an old friend whose sister asked for help. 

Investigating the animal attacks will take you near Ghostwood, or to it if you decide to check the town before checking out the area around the town first. 

the options presented to you - main gate or tunnel - were suggested for your safety, since it's believed that there is imminent danger in accepting this task. You're absolutely able to say "on second thought, we'll charter a boat at the docks and sail up to Port Sac instead." 

THe beauty of D&D is that your DM is a tour guide, but you're the ones driving the bus.  

You have multiple options for what you want to investigate first. Ghostwood, the animal attacks, Lya's death

The party will leave Watertown via wagon through the main gates. You have approximately 8 hours to make your arrangements, say your goodbyes, etc. Bear in mind the shops wil open around 6am. 

I will update on Sunday. 

Long moments passed in silence, and the young half-orc wrung her hands as she paced, her eyes moving from face to face, trying to guage their reactions. the gnome seemed eager, but appeared to be playing it cool, while Aymani seemed to nearly bristle at the idea of skulking around the tunnels. But as the silence dragged on it gained an awkwardweight, and in her heart, Girta'a began to worry that perhaps they were reconsidering. Maybe they thought she as being silly, or that she was making to much of the dangers Lys had presented. That wasthe problem, wasn't it, she mused. Without Lys here to explain just why they needed to leave in secret, or what dangers they might really be facing, they had only the word of a baker's daughter. 

When Aymani stood, Girta'a swallowed hard and held her breath. Don't leave, she beggeed silently, please! But instead of walking, Aymani nodded to Girta'a. 

"We should leave by the city gates in the morning," she said. "I will not hide in a tunnell like a rat. I just need to make a few arrangements."

Relief flooded her and she nodded. "Of course. Yes. You all muct have families, friends, arrangements. I'm sorry. Yes. Please, as long as everyone leaves togther in the morning."

And when Soren spoke up, her surprise was visible, and a warm smile tigged at the corners of her mouth. "There's a covered wagon waiting for you at the stables by the gate. Loaded with suppplies, rations. Maybe some sweets and pastries," she chuckled. "Ask for Old Peg. He's uh...he's an old friend of Papa's." Her voice trailed off as she looked to each of the others, trying to hide her hurt. 

"I just...I just want you to know that Lys felt there was enough danger that she had to stop looking herself. So...I mean, who knows where the bad guys are, right? Obviously she was worried enough to make this meeter happen in a basement? So maybe they're already here. I don't know. I can't tell you more. And I wish to Astryliene that she were here to tell you what you want to know. But there's already a lot to look into. Be careful when you go."

Alright guys, I'll be doing an update tonight to move things forward. 

However, in the future, if the party is presented with a choice, I'm not making it for you guys again. 

she worrried at Lys' absence, and spent precious moments pacing the kitchen, waiting for her, for signs, for anything. Her thoughts raced, and she couldn't understand why she'd been suddenly left in the dark to handle these strangers whose lives had already touched hers. How could she send them out into such uncertainty?The half-orc woman shook her head, took a breath, and grabbed a basket. without knowing how long they would be, or if she should keep waiting, she added three bottles of wine and some fruit, some cheese, and some rolls, before heading downstairs once more, with only s single backwards glance with the slim hope that Lys might arrive soon. 

Once downstairs, she paused a moment to stare at the people waiting on her for answers. Again, she longed for Lys to be here, to take this burden from her. but she had accepted that her life would change once she accepted this task, and change it had. She now felt responsible, with a deep keen sharpness, for each of their lives. How many of them would survive, she wondered. And it made her quite sad. Lowering her head a bit, she moved to the table and set down the basket. "Please, feel free to partake," she offered, before pacing the room a litttle. 

"I'm alloowed to share certain things, and Lys was meant to be here instead to help fill in blanks, so I might not have every answer you're looking for," she began, appologetically. "but here's what I know. Lys lost her sister 5 or 6 years ago, and lately, something has given her cause to look into that again. She wasn't entirely convinced it was or wasn't the Authority, but I can see by....by your presence here," she gestured to Soren, "she must have ruled them out? I guess that means she thinks someone else might be involved. REsponsible. I..." She paused again, looking at each face. "I'm sorry, this is...new to me. Bear with me. Lys has said she doesn't know why or what it means, but that Ghostwood was mentioned at the time of...in her sister's...when she died. And the only connection the Temple had with Ghostwood was a delegation sent there that disappeared. She tried looking into it herself and...and she got spooked."

Girta'a began to pace again, her hands knotting together and unknotting, her face clouded by uncertainty and concern. "There's been troubling rumors out of Ghostwood, she said. Animal attacks that shouldn't rightly happen. Strange deaths and disapperances. But nothing she could find gave any concrete proof, just lots of tavern talk and tall tales. She can't ask her sisters because they don't talk anymore. She can't ask the Temple properly because she doesn't have enough to go on. I guess the Grand... the... they told her, when she first tried to bring it up, that there was nothing they could do. So she tried on her own. but she was concerned enough that she needed outside help to have brought in the few people she could trust with this. so I don't know if the ones who killed her sister are after her, but it's probably why she couldn't be here tonight."

her pacing brought her to the back wall, snd she heaved a stack of crates out of the way to reveal a door. 

"It's up to you how you want to get there, or where you want to start, but there's a network of tunnels that can gget you out of the city undetected. Or you can march right out the gates come morning like any other band of adventurers. If you go theough the city gates, I can supply you with horses and a wagon. If you choose the tunnels, I can't promise there aren't others using them, or things living down there. We've only had to use it a few times, and it was here before we took over the place."

Turning to look at them each once more, she felt a stab of regret at not being able to join them. "What else do you need to know?"

My appologies! I delayed a collab post with Eol, Nomad and myself. I think it's coming soon. But also ITS FINALLY SPRIIIIIING!!!! 

Thanks, Eol! Hi guys! I'm so sorry, there's been a spate of breakages of rather important things and fixing them all took longer than expected! I'm back, though! Update coming Sunday night. 

Daughter broke my glasses and scattered them, and it took a while to fel around everywhere for them. Should have an update done but it likely won't some till the wee hours. 

Also, i love these interactions! I have a good feeling about this group of intrepid adventurers

muahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaa

Now that I've pieced my spectacles back together (thanks daughter o mine) I'll have a post up tonight, hopefully.

I am waaaaaaaay behind on the Blacklist, only 5 eps into season 3. But i will get there! Honestly at this point i just need to start over from S1E1...

Girta'a is 5'7" with copper colored eyes and chocolate brown hair and that falls a little ways past her shoulders. She typucally pins up the back, and tucks the longer side bangs behind her ears, which have several small gold rings in each of them from the tip to middle. The tusks of her lower jaw are actually quite small and dainty. At seventeen, she still has a youthful face, but appears to be in her mid-twenties, given how half-orcs age a bit quicker than humans. She's athletically uilt, but lacks the defined muscles of most half-orcs. Her typical daily outfit is a well made and stylish brown dress with a brown leather half-corset, and a white apron. She's usually barefoot. 

Totally wish I had a pic of her. *Stares intensely at Eol forever until he picks up a pencil...*

Girta'a finished wiping down the tables for a seventh time. Already the counter and display case gleamed in the low light, and likely she would clean again before the various individuals Lys had recruited for this task would arrive. While Lys had been vague about the dangers, the need for such secrecy, Girta'a respected the Temple guardian enough to respect her wishes by moving them all under the cover of darkness. The Arcaren agent puzzled her greatly, and she'd begged both Papa and Uula'a to stay upstairs, to keep clear of the Market District altogether. Papa had been understandably upset, but understood and agreed with Girta'a where Uula'a was concerned. He had no care himself to remain hidden, lest the agent of the Authority come for him because of all this.  

"I've already lost a wife, I won't lose one of my girls, too," he declared, enveloping them both in a warm, if not tense, embrace. "Shar's a lazy shiftless bastard, he'll come help me tomorrow."'

With luck, she could keep them all in the wine cellar till it was time for them to depart. And as she waited, she cleaned, and lost herself in the routine, till a knock at the door broke her from her private world. A knot developed suddenly in the pit of her stomach and she stared for long moments before making a move to answer it. 

"Once I open this door," she reminded herself internally, "I become part of something larger than myself. I weave myself into the fabric of a larger tapestry. For Lys." and with that emboldening thought, Girta'a opens the door to reveal the armored Temple warrior from before. 

“Hello again, Girta’a,” Castien smiled softly as the door opened, “I hope I’ve not arrived too early or too late.” He noted the rigidness in her shoulders and the apprehensive yet determined set of her features that had dampened the bright smile he’d been greeted with this morning. Briefly, she looked past him to see the Arcaren agent approach, which stayed her tongue a bit. 

"A long day, it all," she lied, knowing she was a poor teller of tall tales. "Please, come in, come in. It's good to see you again. Both of you," she added as the Arcaren moved into the room a few paces behind Castien. She spared another glance, searching for Aymani in the darkness, and saw her figure moving closer. 

Diola lle,” he said, following the girl’s welcome that had come on the back of a breath she’d held slightly too long. He stepped through the door, then, and as she closed it behind them, he turned to face her. “Is all well,” he asked, “I cannot help but sense some small bit of trepidation.”

"A long day," she lied, knowing she was a poor teller of tall tales. "Please, wait here while I get the others. I will only be a moment."

Her stomach in knots, and an unfamiliar sense of panic stirring within, she took the stairs two at a time, and nodded to Bory and Karos, an indication it was time. As she led them down to the shop, the strong clear knock at the door announced Aymani's arrival, and to spare herself another embarrasing moment, she said nothing. she simply opened the door and moved aside to allow her passage into the main room. 

there was quiet as she made her way, with a backward look and a nod to have them folllow, into the kitchen and, from there, down a set of rickety but stable stairs into the wine cellar. 

it hadn't been used as a wine cellar in ages, to be honest. Once Girta'a lit a torch, she moved easily about the room lighting more, before setting the primary one in its holder in the wwall. 

they stood in a large room now, twenty by twenty with a high ceiling of ten feet, lined with shelves on two sides, and a stack of crates, casks, and old chests against a third. Bakeware, tin cups and ceramic plates, wooden plates and utensils, jars of preserves from various fruits and vegetables sat beneath a thin layer of dust, with disturbances everywhere that told a tale of an oft=used  store room that maybe could be cleaned more often. In the center of the room, a long table, with the length and width to support the need for the ten present chairs, sat covered in maps of trade routes, invoices, lists of ingredients and orders, and other such things. 

"Please," she sighed, "take a seat, and I will answer any questions you may have. Get to know each other. I will return momentarily with some dinks and some food, and with luck we can have you on your way by morning."

It was nearly mid afternoon by the time Aymani found herself in the Market District on the doorstep of Halfred’s Bake Shop. The half-orc gladiator, left cheek now a pretty purple-yellow-brown bruise, stepped into the shop and asked for Girta’a.

Mid afternoon for a baker and his family is fairly like the end of day for most people, and a very tired Girta'a, though still retaining her smile, stopped in her tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape. She'd never before been this close to an actual celebrity. sometimes, if they'd had a really good day at the shop, Papa would let her sneak out to the fights for the night fights, and she always felt such a deep and primal thrill at watching the Lucky Lioness thrash her opponents. she supposed that Papa, as much as any human could, understood this and that was why he allowed it. But she couldn't help longing, sometimes, for a broader social circle that would include more of her kind. 

But she never expected to meet her. It had never crossed Girtaa'a's mind that she might one day be in the same  room, et alone so close, to someone like Aymani. 

Try not to sound like a simpleton, she warned herself internally, before doing almost just that. A hand thrust itself awkwardly forward, a dazed smile breaking over her face as she approached Aymani quickly. 

"welcome  to Girta'a, I'm Haldred's Bake Shoppe," she spluttered and instantly, even as the words escaped her, knew she was fangirling badly. She blinked, blushed, and suddenly laughed at her own foolishness. "I mean to say Welcome to Halfred's Bake Shoppe, and i am not only a huge fan of yours, I'm also Girta'a."

And so it was that, like a dream, Girta'a found herself inviting Aymani to the midnight meeting wit the others, and could think of nothing at all beyond that she was in the same room as a woman who was both one of her own kind, and someone whom she admired greatly. Nothing else really mattered for the rest of the day, or evening. Indeed, she hardly ate supper because she could only think about how the discoloration of the bruises on Aymani's cheek looked lovely in the soft light of the bakery, and how when Aymani moved, you could see the muscles ripple, and how wonderful she smelled, like blood and fury and sweat and leather and lotion. 

And for a while, Girta'a forgot her dread and worry and responsibilities. 

Already it had been a long day. Papa had baked up a storm in his concern over Uula'a's worsening condition, and the guilt kept him on his toes between the mixing, the ovens, and frequent trips upstairs to check on her. He'd started a stew in the kitchen, and already it smelled wonderful. All of the savory aromas of the fresh meat and veg tickled her nose and teased her belly. Since the Arcaren's visit, nearly everyone wanted to know what was going on. There were wild theories thrown about, and more than a few hit close to home, but she merely laughed and shook her head, denying everything. He'd come in to compliment the pastries and savory treats, was all, she explained. After all, she pointed out, even they had to eat, and why not have the best?

But the day had slowed down now, and they were entering the remains of the afternoon, when the last bit of customers would be stopping in for a fresh loaf or two to have with dinner, and then a sparse spattering of the occasional pie and cake orders. She hadn't heard from Lys, whom she assumed would be making an appearance to tell her more about those she summoned, or at the very least how many to expect, but so far there had een no sign or her, nor word. 

It was as she contemplated closing up early, that the sudden swing of the door caught her attention, as in walked a talll and dark haired human, his brown eyes bearing the weight of one who had seen both kindness and hardship, and probably more than enough of the latter. He reminded her of Papa, in that way.

"Welcome to Halfred's Bake Shoppe, can I interest you i one of our savory breads or rolls?"

The stranger smiled politely at the half orc, quickly saying "Although your treats smell delicious, I'm afraid I'm here on business.  I believe someone named  Girta'a should be expecting me?  I'd like to speak to her."

Girta'a chuckled and untied her apron. "Then it seems we are well met," she chuckled lightly, and removed the apron, hanging it upon a peg on the wall. She crossed the distance between them and extended a hand. "I am Girta'a, pleased to meet you. We have some time before the others gather, i'm afraid. you're welcome to  join my family upstairs, or continue what business you may have in the city. We'll be meeting here about midnight or so."

from upstairs, Papa called down to bring up a large pot of the stew, and that he'd be down soon. Girta'a rolled her eyes and told him she would in a moment, then turned back to Karos. "I'm sorry, would you mind? I can't leave the shop in case others come. It'd be a big help, and big fill of your belly," she added with a laugh, and without waiting for him to agree or not, disappeared intot he kitchen. When she returned, she cradled a large steaming stock pot in one arm, and basket laden with loaves and cakes in another. 

"It's just up there," she explained, and gestured with a toss of her head. "thanks agin, I really appreciate this." She quickly filled his arms and snt him on his way. 

what an interesting assortment of strangers, she mused. Lys had surely touched their lives in some significant way to inspire such devotion and help. It lifted her spirits, and she set about preparing for the next day's baking. 

Slowly getting there. Impulse and Ayrn's updates in the works right now. 

Edited to add:

Following these individual updates, there will be a general group update concerning the midnight meet up. Please withhold posting till after that goes up. THank you! 

An easy and natural smile never left her face as she took orders and packaged fresh breads and cakes for waiting customers. But at sight of Soren, that smile faltered, if only for a moment, It would have only be noticed by someone used to such slips. A flash of fear in her eyes betrayed the cheerful disposition as she wiped her hands and nodded.

"Be with you in just a moment!" she sang out, and quickly sorted the remaining few people. Once the shop was emptied, she sighed, still smiling. "There we go! My, what a busy day we've had! What can I get for you today? Would you like to try one of our sweet apple loaves?"

Soren was polite, but direct. "Hello. My name is Soren. I would like to speak with Girta'a."

She didn't whaw what she had expected. For tentacles to slither out of his mouth, most likely. While her family lived in constant fear of the Authority, they'd only seen them in passing and, on occaision, served them food when they came in for something tasty. The problem with being one of the premier bakeries in Watertown was that even the folks you tried to avoid wanted a piece. 

"I am Girta'a. it's a pleasure to meet you, Soren. Are you here for our delicious wares, or for something else entirely?"

A small smile appeared on Soren's face before he could stop it. "I've been at your wares all day. Delicious indeed." He shook his head, features becoming serious once more. "I am looking for someone from the temple, who is, herself, looking for someone, to see if I might aid her at all."

It took all she had not to glance back towards the kitchen, towards Papa, who may have left his old life behind, but was still in danger with this man standing here. And what of Uula'a? Could he detect the amulet, or the tracecs of magic on Uula'a blood and body? Grateful that her sister was upstairs, his presence still set her skin crawling with fear and anxiety. She had to get him out, and quickly. She couldn't just lie and say no. If they were asking for her, they already knew who she was. Was he here on behalf of Sister Lys, as the others? She couldn't imagine Lys working with the Authority in any way, but stranger things had happened. And didn't she herself know that Astryliene will manifested in strange and unlikely ways? Still, though, she had to be sure... She took a breath and, still smiling, spoke quietly.

For a brief shameful moment, Girta'a felt only relief that he was not after Uula'a. But he was here to help, to help Lys, and while it seemed unlikely, who was she to doubt Lys, or the will of the Divine? Perhaps, as she had heeard in the stands of the fights, a change was coming. Maybe improved relations between the factions inthe cityt was that change. Girta'a nodded. 

"Then return near midnight, to meet with the others. For now, you should rest and prepare for a long journey. I wish you and the the others luck."

And with that, he took his leave, and Girta'a released a long heavy sigh. As she set about bringing fresh goods from the cooling racks in the kitchen to fill the baskets and display case out front, she hoped she hadn't made a terrible mistake. 

i'll get the rest tomorrow. now that the wee one is finally ona  schedule again I have to cling to it for dear life. Please hold your posts till I get these out. Thank you! 

They closed the shop but briefly, so Girta'a could carry Uula'a upstairs and set her comfortably int he window seat she so loved. By her, within easy reach, sat a pile of books, a bottle of fruited wine, some large blank books and a quill and inkpot for sketching. Girta'a made sure there were extra pillows and blankets, and that her sister had all she would need for the rest of the day, though she knew their father would sneak up at least a dozen times to check on her. 

Folks in town were keen to respect this daily break, and usually let them be for a while before the afternoon rush. When she retrned to the shop, the flipped the sign on the door to OPEN and moved behind the counter, just in time to see a gnome, of all people, enter with a clear and yearning hunger leading him by the nose, no doubt.

The new arrival approached and ordered a couple of wonderful looking pastries, his mouth watering.  The young half-orc looked over the counter at him and grinned a tusked grin.  “A gnome!  Don’t see a lot of gnomes around here eating pastries!  But everybody is welcome at Halfred’s and nobody can resist Papa’s baking!”  She grinned and since he clearly had the look of a traveler added, “Have you been traveling?  You look as if you just arrived in the city and your first stop was Halfred’s!”

Bory grinned at the youngster.  She was happy and spunky and her attitude was catchy, although the gnome had never needed any help being either happy or spunky.  “The legend of Halfred’s pastries is known far and wide!  I came here straight from the road, not just by chance but seeking refreshment worthy of my travels!”  He held up his pastries as he spoke.  “But in addition to these amazing smelling foods, I must admit I also came seeking a Girta’a.”   This last line was spoken a bit quieter than the rest as he really didn’t know if any of this was secret, but since the bakery was empty at the moment he need not have worried.

It had been a hard morning. An unseasonable chill in the night had crept into Uula'as bones and set her joints aflame, leaving her feeling wretched and raw in the small hours of the pre-dawn, when Halfred and his girls woke to start the fires in the ovens and set the shop in order  for the work ahead. No potion or salve worked, and Uula'a could only grit her teeth and struggle through, forcing herself to move through the pain that lingered in her twisted leg and hip that had never set right after that accident. As fresh baked goods were pulled from the ovens and set to cool, Uula'a struggled to bring the ready goods to the front, and had to rest frequently. Halfred did his best to keep her spirits up by singing everything he could think of, and it helped a bit. But Girta'a knew that by lunch, Uula'a would be done in and have to retire for the day. 

At the counter, Girta'a pushed all thoughts of her sister's difficulties from her mind and focused on simply getting them through the day. While business suffered a bit with the presence of the Arcaren agent outside, there was still more than enough work to keep her busy. Throwing herself into her routine, she was granted a brief and welcome respite when an armored elf, quite pleasing to the eye, entered the shop.

More than one pair of eyes turned his way as he crossed the threshold. Each gaze, having quietly assessed or opined the Blade’s presence, turned away in due course… all except for that of a half-orc girl whose eyes seemed to be propped up by a broad, toothy smile. “You’re from the Temple,” the girl beamed, wiping her hands on her apron as she crossed the floor to welcome him.

“I am,” Castien smiled in return, offering a bow in greeting, “Sister Lys has sent me here in search of Girta’a. Might you be her?”

"Indeed I am," she replied quickly, and her voice dropped low, though the smile never left her eyes. "And I've been expecting you. Please, have a seat and I'll be with you soon." And she was gone again, back behind the counter to clear away the customers.

The elf nodded faintly and, as Girta’a hurried back to her tending of the shop, Castien moved to a small table. He propped his shield against one leg of the thing and, after adjusting the fall of his cloak and the hang of the scimitar at his hip, settled into a chair. As Girta’a worked at filling her customers’ orders, Castien waited patiently, his alert gaze sweeping the shop and, on occasion, the street beyond the shop’s door.

Once the shop was quieter, she returned to him with a tied paper box, cloth napkin of pale green draped over it. In the kitchen, Papa broke into song, and after a verse or two, her sister's voice joined his.

At the sound of singing, the elf’s eyes skipped briefly from Girta’a toward the source of the crooning and a smile blossomed on his lips. There was an almost tangible sense of love and joy in the music the two voices created and his heart couldn’t help but be warmed by it. If the smile faded at all when his eyes came back to hers, it was scarcely noticeable.

As she stared pointedly into his eyes, her fingers brushed the cloth napkin ever so slightly, revealing a slip of paper tucked between the folds. "If you're not doing anything tonight, perhaps you might stop by again to see me after midnight. I'd love to give you a tour of our wine cellar. I'm sure you'll find it quite informative."

“It would be my pleasure,” Castien smiled, reaching for the box. He took up the napkin and, as he did, his fingers deftly picked the slip of paper from its folds and secreted it away under his belt as he lay the napkin across his lap. “I’ve heard tales of the wine cellar, here,” he said, reaching for the string-tied box, again, “and have long wanted to see it for myself.” Drawing the box across the table, the elf inclined his head a bit and sniffed lightly, his smile brightening at the aromas that escaped the container and teased his sense of smell.

The box lingered at the table’s edge as the elf rose gracefully to his feet, taking up his shield, again, as he did so. His sword-hand lifted, then, and two fingers touched his chest where a stylized storm cloud and heart were embossed in the leather of his armor. Those same fingers crossed the space between him and Girta’a, then, and came to rest lightly, briefly on the half-orc girl’s forehead. “May you find peaceful shelter in Her eye as the storm rages, melaer,” he smiled before his fingers fell away and his hand, at last, scooped the box from the table. “Thank you for this,” he added, tucking the box under his arm and sketching another bow, “I shall see you again, after midnight.”

Castien turned for the door, then, and, before he reached it, took a second to slide Girta’a’s note from his belt. His nimble fingers unfolded the slip of paper and his gaze dipped to the words written on it…

Arcaren outside. Watch yourself. Target unknown.

…The note disappeared from his hand as he reached the door and, as Castien turned the handle to let himself out, his bright blue eyes chanced a glance back at the half-orc girl who watched his retreat. He offered a scant nod, acknowledging her warning and, then, with nothing more passing between them but a smile, the elf strode back onto the streets of Watertown.

Castien had, of course, taken note of the Arcaren when he had first arrived; it wasn’t as if the man were trying to be discreet, after all.  The raven-haired man’s demeanor and the registry tattoo emblazoned prominently on forehead made him easy enough to spot. The elf had given the Arcaren Salvager – for, certainly, that’s what he was – only a passing glance when he initially found himself before the door of Halfred’s but, now, as he left the bakery behind him, Castien made a point of meeting the man’s blue-green eyes and offered a curt, if not altogether friendly, nod of acknowledgement. ONly Salvagers dared walk among the good people of this town. Whom might it be that you hunt, morier, he wondered as their gazes locked for that fraction of an instant, each of them defiant yet respectful of the other, and what is it that brings you here in search of your prey? The smile had melted from Castien’s face even before his gaze let go of the Authority’s agent, the joviality of his expression replaced by a look of grim contemplation as he left the bake shoppe and the ominous Arcaren behind him and disappeared into the maze of the city’s streets to wile away the rest of the day.

Love the post, Ayrn! 

So...updates are going to take a bit. I'll do my best but it's waaaay past my bedtime. 

Also i know Aaaaaaaaallll about time getting away from you. In fact, it's happened to me today. So i am delaying updates till tomorrow night. My appologies, but this will also hopefully give Ayrn time to post up.