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Offline Граф Орлов
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Posts: 8,636
#277
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Grim Knuud, to put it mildly, was quite tired from the journey, and in any case, these people, like the entire city in general, certainly didn't interest him any more than other barbarian settlements. All he needed was information, but not the kind that a couple of greenhorns could tell him, even in the most optimistic scenario. Dunkaniël entered the city, following his (and Tenebris's) creed: don't stand out, don't attract attention, and quietly do his job. However, it wasn't as if he consciously tried to be this way; after decades, it had become a habit.
Tirren is vast, and there are few travelers at this early hour. The only thing that is clear is that most people from the area near the eastern gate are heading towards the river, presumably towards the center of the city. However, one can wander the streets aimlessly, starting from the current area of the city.
One cannot simply ignore the skill of a scout...
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The warrior surveyed the column, glanced at the city, and sighed heavily.
- Hello, - he nodded to the man. - You're doing well. Could you give me a ride to the gate?
The caravan leader's face, already reddish by nature, turned even redder and, in addition, acquired a rather unintelligent expression.
-- A... on a mule or something?! -- he began, but something changed in his mind again, and his next phrase was: -- A... who are you, um, good sir?
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