Sal could still taste the ale on his lips, the lingering tones of malt and various spices. It was his doing but he justified it. He needed to blend in, to appear as one of them. The task was a simple one, involving the exchange of coin and the emptying of pewter tankards against tables in a run...
Presented with the expanse of the Abberasai Savannah, Sal had looked to the sky and made a monumental decision. He turned left. Along the sandy footpath he traveled, a paltry and unremarkable member of a swaggering caravan, the arrival at a port city could not have come quick enough. He was one...
Briglann Jaros was sure he was usually far more careful than this. It wasn't like him to miss an arranged drop-off because he'd somehow lost the item he was supposed to be selling.
It was a little wooden box, charming and hand-carved, wrapped in a cloth and all ready for drop-off early tomorrow...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.