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[dirthsal]

sending crystal / in person

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at some point, whenever you prefer timeline wise w plot stuff

[extortionate]

"Well, that was a right waste of time —" He's barged in without looking, which might not be best protocol for someone's had assassins after him near as Wintermarch. But it's only ever Astrid, who can handle interlopers. Or whoever Astrid's bedding, what's like as not the same. "— Lions ate him."

So he looks a bit puzzled for seeing a scrawny elf and no Astrid at all.

"Who the fuck're you."

An eye up and down, but Talin doesn't look about to shank him, so it's over to his mattress (unmade beneath some pinned, artistic sketches of the female form) to slouch and begin pulling off boots. Still waiting for an answer. Not fussed for its speed.

camping.

[brennvin]

Haring has been sinking its teeth into the Planasene: the weather finally turning, some early snow hanging off the boughs of the trees, bushes and branches crackling with frost. Astrid’s breath steams in the night air, even more frigid after the sun set.

Unlike their usual hunting trips, this time they’re out on regular assignment, scouting the woods. Astrid’s setting up their camp with quick, practiced efficiency; and she is, in more ways than one, a useful person to have with you on a job like this. After setting up her enchanted tent, she tests its framework rune, satisfied to see that it’s still working and that magical warmth starts to fill the space. They’ll share; it’s fine, they sleep in the same room anyhow back at the Gallows.

But Talin is not back yet.

She’s piled wood into a pile, and gotten the fire started. Sitting in front of the campfire, warming some water for tea — she’s a little more careful about alcohol when out in the field — she cranes her head, listening. He’s been monitoring the outskirts while she got their camp ready. And perhaps someone else might not have noticed, but Astrid has a very good sense for how long it takes to scout this particular perimeter and how long it usually takes Talin to do it; they’re not near the occupied Tevene border, so he should’ve been back ages ago. Unless he ran into trouble —

She’s got a hunting knife, peeling back layers of a lump of unshaped wood, when there’s finally the crack of footsteps on frost. Her chin jerks up, eyes watchful as the elf approaches the light.

“Took you long enough,” she says.

crystals;

[wythersake]

Mssr. Talin, I'm told that you identified structures within the Necropolis temple.