( He searches the wall for more thread — comes largely empty-handed, but for string shreds here, remains of cloth there. Less than a nail's width, the materials base and known.
Not the premium resources of the king's court, not the exotic offerings of passing merchants. Something... banal, this way come. The same supplies offered unto the civilian who crowd in the Ward, in the Keeps.
New. Far too new. He gathers each string of evidence in his carrying purse, binds a knot and safe-keeps the load. )
You assume Alem knows. ( Then, the strained, unpleasant possibility: ) They speak of... a Reaper. A murderer.
no subject
( He searches the wall for more thread — comes largely empty-handed, but for string shreds here, remains of cloth there. Less than a nail's width, the materials base and known.
Not the premium resources of the king's court, not the exotic offerings of passing merchants. Something... banal, this way come. The same supplies offered unto the civilian who crowd in the Ward, in the Keeps.
New. Far too new. He gathers each string of evidence in his carrying purse, binds a knot and safe-keeps the load. )
You assume Alem knows. ( Then, the strained, unpleasant possibility: ) They speak of... a Reaper. A murderer.