Penance: Chapter 3 - Stranger

The senior matron quirked a brow, accepting the envelope with slow scepticism. With long slender fingers and nails like knives she broke the seal, removed the letter and began to read.

The younger two at least didn’t glare for glaring sake.

Krogon glanced left and right before raising his woollen hood, The drag was quiet this morning, the sun had not yet ascended above the valley walls and the children still slept peacefully within the orphanage. It had been an interesting four days, telling stories of old and tales of legend to the children had been oddly relaxing, though...

Yet still that hollow weight sits on my heart...

The matron scanned the lines of the parchment and its official symbols with no small degree or contempt. No doubt she held disdain for such things.

She huffed. ”is that all? I had expected a larger donation-“

”That is merely the first, of many equal monthly donations to come.” He cut in, before she had chance to affirm an idea he was cheap. When her brows rose in surprise and realisation he knew he’d estimated the amount right.

Those in need don’t want gifts or hand outs, what they need is dependable stability.

”this is most kind... very well, and you still intend to visit in future when you are in the city?” She smiled wryly, her dark purple eyes had a mischievous twinkle to them. Though she was old, and greying, the elder matron had a youthful guile to her he had learnt to be weary of.

She thinks this was a one off affair and doubts my word. Typical.

”On my honour, for whatever you rate that to be worth.” he answered firmly, slipping his hands into the opposing sleeves of his robes with a subtle frown on his features.

”Hrm, if you say so then. Safe travels back to your tribe. Gug’ye...” and with that, she turned and re-entered the orphanage without another word, forgetting him as quickly as she had learned who he was.

Devilstep grumbled, turning on his heels and heading back north up the drag at a patient pace. There was no rush, nobody would miss him, perhaps the children would when they awoke and found their new story-teller gone, but that could not be helped.

A strange turn of events indeed...

His eyes scanned the long curve of the street ahead. The occasional ‘female of the night’ loitered here and there, beginning to head to wherever home was while the nights revellers were being peeled off the road by the new Tauren and Troll guards. Drink in excess had its downside as ever.

Eventually he came to pass the Runeworks shop on his left, and no sooner had he entered the shadow of the building did he feel a twinge of suspicion in his gut. The prayer beads concealed around his left arm, even under all these robes knew something was off, or worth the trouble to pause and think. The spiritual orbs didn’t speak to him, but when that unsaid word reached his brain he knew to stop in his tracks.

What now...?

Looking down at his bare feet, he stood at the edge of the buildings shadow now, his own poking out from the larger black veil. Then it moved, and stood upright. Another shadow, someone is watching you. His gaze snapped left and darted upward toward the higher path above the shops.

Well I’ll be fel dammed...

”Ha! Render! I knew it was you! Even under all those robes and without your blade I can spot your skulking hide a mile off!” The muscled Orc laughed then spat, promptly taking a deep swig of a large skin thereafter.

...Koroto...

The Orc leapt with considerable ease, falling that lengthy drop but landing on both feet, granted it was with the wobble of some alcohol induced uncertainty but he landed upright.

”I’m amazed you showed your hide here! Pfah!” Barked Koroto, his long black beard and hair braid swayed as his armour and war blade jangled about his body.

...Grand, my least favourite friend and he’s  isn’t happy to see me...