Ash 9, 4621¤
“You two look like shit.”
Was the greeting from Izul’s contact in Amoren. A young woman, the contact was half Sil-Norai and had eyes which sparkled like fine amber gems. Pogma Fleur was her name and she was their contact in Amoren now; she would stash their bikes here for two seasons if they were quick enough learners of the Candor.
“You’re gonna be hard to miss, I suggest you consider yourself a dignitary from your people Miki, here to learn the Candor and to pick up allies for your cause.”
Pogma was completely serious. Miki sputtered,
“What cause?”
She hadn’t heard from her people for a very long time. Was there some news she had missed? Not that she kept up with anything from her people, but surely should news reach this one’s ears something was amiss. Her paranoia immediately popped and she felt a quick reasoning overtake her.
“I see. You want me to pretend.”
“Well, yes, you’ll need a good reason for being there. This isn’t only dangerous but life changing for you if something goes wrong.”
“Why should she go then?”
Came Izul, who looked in her own way pouty.
“Because simply no one is going to let an Orkhai grace their soiree. But he does want to meet you, you’ll be seeing him tonight.”
Pogma was only a peasant but had connections to a noble. It was explained to them that he was a purveyor of a sex club which she waitressed at in secret. He had confided in her to keep an eye out on the streets for anyone looking to start trouble, as he had money and a favor in store for them. After the duo was given clothing befitting the peasants of Daravin and the sun set against the sky deep behind Mount Lorscha they headed out to his club. Underneath their clothes they wore the outfits of a waitress and were instructed to wait at the entrance to his wine cellar for more information.
There Miki was, out of her commoner attire and in a revealing white jumpsuit with a mask on as if that would ever hide her identity. Izul was standing beside her in the same clothing. She was looking proud, as if her stare would turn anyone down. The door opened and a hand beckoned them through. They were led down into the wine cellar and let in by an Arkanai servant who took them through a cask into a separate room. Inside were a handful of people lying to and fro smoking hookah and drinking wine. The denizens all seemed too out of their minds to notice them.
“Come.”
A hand beckoned them through again and the pair went inside.
