serafadewalk: (Default)
Bloody Dorian. Bloody poncy mustache faced Dorian. Sera had the least amount of problem she'd ever had with a mage with Dorian, but there was more than one of them, and how was she supposed to know if this Dorian wasn't some slave-beater. Another rich pissbag she had to hate.

She didn't want to hate him. She liked Dorian, not that she'd say that to his stupid face. But she needed to know that the people here were people-people, even if they were rich tits in fancy shoes.

Could be he was a demon. Then she'd have to put an arrow in his pretty stupid face.

The roof of the tavern offered a perch she could use to see most of the upper courtyard. If he was coming from the great hall or the wallwalk down through the Herald's Rest she'd see him. See if he was a person.

She held an arrow nocked but not drawn, eyes scanning for movement, leaning back into the shadows so she'd be bloody hard to see from the ground. Or the sky for that matter.

Tits all, she hoped he didn't take too long. Sera wasn't patient and she with all her nerves she found she really needed a piss.
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Fadewalk

November 2015

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