06-30-2015, 07:37 PM
Damned persistent, aren't they? Ambrose thought, leaning against the dark corner of an alley in a small town in Pherae. His hand lingered on his sword's hilt beneath his cloak. It was night, and hopefully, no one related to the church would find him. Especially not in this tiny, unimportant place. Peering this way and that, and making sure to keep an eye out for Church-related persons. His eyes were covered in the shadow of his hood, and his face was wrapped in a scarf. Not that it was particularly chilly, but it kept him from being recognized.
He walked, slowly to keep any pursuers from getting suspicious, to the inn. He ambled in, peering around. No one important-looking. He sat in a corner table, one that was not completely occupied, and leaned his seat back against the wall, keeping an eye on the door.
He walked, slowly to keep any pursuers from getting suspicious, to the inn. He ambled in, peering around. No one important-looking. He sat in a corner table, one that was not completely occupied, and leaned his seat back against the wall, keeping an eye on the door.
Thank you Destin, for the awesome mug of Ambrose.