![]() Is that true?"īooks? These two had trudged through a sandstorm for books? "I hear you have a fondness for books and that you lend them out to your patrons. ![]() The woman gently rested her shield on the floor. The lack of armor seemed to have left her a touch windblasted, though. He hadn't even noticed the woman's companion, a girl wearing simple clothes. Not with this storm, anyway." His charming act was spoiled a bit by his nervous glances toward the woman's armor. "What're you-oh." His gutter accent vanished in an instant, replaced with warm speech, the language he saved for guests. "Not'n this weather, we don't," he said, coming down the stairs. "Father?" he called, not looking away from her.Ī grunt echoed from the inn's second floor. She turned her eyes toward Reiter and smiled. Had she been walking around in this sandstorm? Insanity. The woman coughed, and sand tumbled free from her armor. That's a woman! He had never seen such detailed, frightening battle armor in his life, not even among the elite merchant guards that passed through town, and those crews were always men. Flowing brown hair fell to his shoulders- her shoulders. The man raised a hand to his helm and removed it. The figure's head, encased in a thick helm, turned to look at the boy. The armor shook the inn's wooden floor with each step. A short length of black chain connected a handle with an evil-looking spiked weight. But it was the weapon that held Reiter's eyes. A white tunic spilled down his chestplate, bearing a strange symbol. In the fading twilight, all the boy could see was a silhouette standing in the doorway.įor a long moment, only the unending drone of the sandstorm broke the silence. ![]() Swirling ribbons of sand flowed into the common room. Gauntleted hands shoved open the inn's front doors with a bang.
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