42nd of Frost, 4622
![Image](https://d1x9tfu5jockj0.cloudfront.net/media/catalog/product/cache/6a2be642176550b36f0d11fb7fb40e92/s/u/sundialcomp10_11.jpg)
It had been a long trip. The hardships endured along the way sharpened her up for more obstacles, but she was pleasantly surprised. As much as she resented her brother for sending her on an errand to Amoren while she was mid her own quest in Radenor, she still went without hesitation. This was their bond, and it was not always to be a useful one.
All the momentum she’d gained by reaching the package she was supposed to deliver without a hitch was spent when the very same pack slipped from her hands, bounced on the street and got ran over by a carriage of all things. The unmistakable clink of metal breaking was a dangerous frequency, followed by the neighing of horses and the thump of the wheel as it was reintroduced to the packed road. Too shocked to resonate the burlap wrapped object out of harm’s way, she now clutched its broken bones to her chest as she would a child.
Moving away from the busy passage, she’d softly unwrap the package against her brother’s wishes. Whatever it was, she needed to see if it was still worth taking back. Even if it was against his wishes, it was still necessary. Her heart sank a few inches deeper into the breast as she could make out a compass of some sort, decidedly pointing away from what she knew was true north. Some kind of circular contraption was sitting atop it, likely to have once been a sundial of sorts. The compass glass showed a single crack, the needle no longer pointing north, and the once dial bent and twisted away from its once circular purpose. Disappointed with what she unwrapped, she realized that if she was to replace an item such as this, she could have and easily. Her brother wasn’t a fool, so this meant that the compass was more than a mere navigation tool and not as easily sourced.
She decided to try her best and put it back into working order. While the needle was decidedly not north bearing, it did have a constant direction to it. This part of the mechanism was perhaps poorly calibrated, but unlikely to have been significantly disrupted. The glass atop the needle was cracked, but not obstructing vision to it. What worried her the most was the bent shape of the supposed sundial. She needed a smith of sorts to take a look and give an evaluation of whether something like this could be fixed back to some extent. Going back to Valanox empty handed wasn’t a real option, and she wasn’t dealing in half-measures. Her inquiries led her to a door she knew to knock on. With impatience and disappointment, her only companions, she thumped the wood and waited for a response.