Hildigrim turns a little further, adding Carl to his and Hex’s conversation. His eyes brush the empty area behind the dwarf, wondering where exactly Auriel might be, but then settles on the two he can see.
“If the Crown is now a Welcomer safehouse of sorts, the front door won’t be a death trap, but don’t mistake it for safe either. The Welcomers don’t waste steel on the unwary — they just mark your face, your purse, and your secrets for later. Best we go in with eyes wide open.”
His hand involuntarily goes to his purse, thumb tapping the drawstring before he pulls it away.
“We may need to pay a tax to enter — with coin or information — but I believe we will be welcomed—” The halfling’s face flinches at the unintentional pun. “… with the truthful explanation of seeking Glevith at Aya’s suggestion. Hopefully the fact that he already has a history with the Harpers will also soften their defense. Getting caught sneaking in another way will most likely hurt any chance we have.”
He turns to watch the door, but as another thought crosses his mind, he looks back again. “Auriel should follow Hex, with Carl last. That will reduce the chance of him getting caught outside.”
He doesn't like their chances, but in desperate times such as these, a positive outcome is worth the risk.
Carl gives them each a nod, looking in the general direction of the voice and nods, then starts to follow Hex and Hildigrim in, readying his next steps in his mind if things go south.
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Hildigrim leads the group toward the Cracked Crown. While his eyes are trained mostly on the inn’s front door, he doesn’t allow himself to become oblivious to the rest of Scholar’s Square. Every alley, every shuttered window, every figure loitering too long at a corner earns a quick glance. The square has always been the city’s cerebral heart, and now it feels more like a dragonchess field. Thieves in the form of frightened citizens scuttle to and fro while unseen unicorns and knights wait in shadow.
He adjusts the weight of his bow. A Harper must never allow a single point of focus to become a blind spot: observe peripherally, act centrally. The Cracked Crown may be their destination, but Scholar’s Square is the test — and he means to pass it without blundering into a waiting snare.
Still, his pace doesn’t falter. To dawdle would be just as dangerous as to rush. The halfling takes measured steps, posture upright and deliberate, signaling calm to his companions while his mind catalogues threats and routes of retreat.
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Hildigrim turns a little further, adding Carl to his and Hex’s conversation. His eyes brush the empty area behind the dwarf, wondering where exactly Auriel might be, but then settles on the two he can see.
“If the Crown is now a Welcomer safehouse of sorts, the front door won’t be a death trap, but don’t mistake it for safe either. The Welcomers don’t waste steel on the unwary — they just mark your face, your purse, and your secrets for later. Best we go in with eyes wide open.”
His hand involuntarily goes to his purse, thumb tapping the drawstring before he pulls it away.
“We may need to pay a tax to enter — with coin or information — but I believe we will be welcomed—” The halfling’s face flinches at the unintentional pun. “… with the truthful explanation of seeking Glevith at Aya’s suggestion. Hopefully the fact that he already has a history with the Harpers will also soften their defense. Getting caught sneaking in another way will most likely hurt any chance we have.”
He turns to watch the door, but as another thought crosses his mind, he looks back again. “Auriel should follow Hex, with Carl last. That will reduce the chance of him getting caught outside.”
He doesn't like their chances, but in desperate times such as these, a positive outcome is worth the risk.
Hex nods and stands back up to full height. "Sounds good. Lead the way. And I hope you heard that, Auriel, wherever you are."
Hex hears a whisper close by. "I'm here. I heard that, yes."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Carl gives them each a nod, looking in the general direction of the voice and nods, then starts to follow Hex and Hildigrim in, readying his next steps in his mind if things go south.
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Hildigrim leads the group toward the Cracked Crown. While his eyes are trained mostly on the inn’s front door, he doesn’t allow himself to become oblivious to the rest of Scholar’s Square. Every alley, every shuttered window, every figure loitering too long at a corner earns a quick glance. The square has always been the city’s cerebral heart, and now it feels more like a dragonchess field. Thieves in the form of frightened citizens scuttle to and fro while unseen unicorns and knights wait in shadow.
He adjusts the weight of his bow. A Harper must never allow a single point of focus to become a blind spot: observe peripherally, act centrally. The Cracked Crown may be their destination, but Scholar’s Square is the test — and he means to pass it without blundering into a waiting snare.
Still, his pace doesn’t falter. To dawdle would be just as dangerous as to rush. The halfling takes measured steps, posture upright and deliberate, signaling calm to his companions while his mind catalogues threats and routes of retreat.