To the Tower (Open)

[Riva Harel]

“But Commander, I must insist that I stay among the troops, we have drills to run and -“

“Which can be handled by your Low Officer.”

“Well, of course, but I’d really prefer as I -”

“It’s out of the question Officer Harel. You’re taking the next three days in Aquleia off, and that is an order.”

Riva scowled, though still giving the customary Etrurian salute before responding as was customary. “Yes sir.” It had been almost a year and a half since the High Officer’s battalion had been stationed so near to her home, and she was usually too busy to even consider leaving. But with the commanders having her troops bide their time for now, Riva was left with little planning to do outside of rigorous drills and planning for their next move to just outside of Delphia.

Considering Riva had planned their next few moves already and hadn’t taken a free day since before the Battle of Ostia, her commander, who walked next to her as the two of them made their way through the camp, had decided to enforce a mandatory three day leave. Once Riva had caved, the Commander Willam turned on his heel, stopping to look at her. He was a tall, old man, loyal to his country and its purpose, and his blue eyes held a notion of pride as he spoke.

“Riva, you are a great soldier and an excellent leader, just as your father was. But even those of us who have sworn our lives to our country need to take time for ourselves, even if just for a moment, especially after what you have been through. You’ll thank me later, I know.”

Riva couldn’t disagree, so she simply nodded. To be honest, there was something brewing that, while the commanders seemed to know, hadn’t been relayed down the ranks just yet. That tended to happen when something was coming but they needed confirmation before passing it on. Riva was not the one to inquire more than she needed to know to keep her troops in the right place and safe, though, knowing the commanders would reveal what she needed to know when the time was right.

“Good,” Commanded Willam nodded in return. “Take an hour and change into your plainclothes if you wish, then go.” He smiled momentarily before turning on his heel, walking away.

Riva sighed, already knowing where she would go at least for a little while. She walked back to her tent, dressing herself in simple black clothes with gold piping before heading to the stables to get her horse, Zuriel, so she could ride into town.

[Judah]

"Crowd". A word that could mean many things. A crowd was a loyal flock of people following their idol. Or, it was a disorderly bunch of fools being easily led about by those with real power. It was associated with its own sound, and its lack often proved unsettling in cityscapes. Crowding could be threatening someone as well as packing yourself into a tighter collection of bodies, or even crowding someone out of their spot and pushing them away. Fantastic word to play with. Judah was busy experiencing several different aspects of the world at present.

The shaggy haired man brushed some of his hair out of his eyes with one hand as he held a book open with the other. He was leaning back in a comfortable looking chair on a crowded outdoor patio not far inside the fringes of town. There was a clear view of the road coming in on the one side. On the other, was a scattering of other tables, most with people at them. Nearby it looked like there was some kind of wayfarer's inn, or lodging. Someplace where he had a room assigned to him as long as he was statying here. Rumors were that something was coming up, but he'd been relatively out of touch recently. He still hadn't managed to ply into tracking down what was actually going on at this point. And maybe he wouldn't for a short while.

Judah idly reached out with his free hand and took a small teacup lightly by its handle. He had been traveling through uncivilized and wild lands till recently, so as he raised the small cup to his lips, he savored the taste and the practice that had been put into its brewing. You wouldn't find things like this on the Western Isles. That was for certain, and if you somehow did, it was not for the likes of ordinary folks who made their home there.

[Karen]

The previous day had involved meeting with a woman of great beauty of prestige. Briefly, the false Acolyte wondered what this one would have in store. Given the day to do as she pleased rather than any work from the Iron Maiden, the frosty blue haired woman would take some delight in peace. Her home in the city of Aquleia wasn't one of the fancier ones, but then again everything in this city was already ridiculously fancy and beautiful. It may qualify as a normal home in Aquleia, but it was practically a mansion compared to the houses of Bern or Ilia. And she'd allowed Jule to stay here as well, the girl had been really stubborn about following her and in truth, there was not a real reason to deny her.

Perhaps she'd buy the former street urchin some nicer clothes today? It was a thought, at any rate. With the poor girl's search for her wayward brother gone bust, Karen couldn't stand leaving the poor girl on her own from then on. And perhaps she could spend some time with Jule before the eventual time came when she needed to sail off with Selene. From what she understood, it'd roughly be one week until the time to depart came.

Plenty of time to dig up information on the entire crew and make sure everything was in order. Couldn't just let anyone near the Admiral, no matter how well Selene could defend herself. Even the weakest foe can pull a trick to equalize or even to flat out slay their foe. Poison worked on the weak and the strong just fine, after all. Regardless, the Inquisition should have detailed records of all aboard already. Just needed to obtain the files. But, first...

Karen dressed herself not in the usual Acolytes' robes she wore, but instead in a white and gold ensemble of shirt, pants, and a longcoat. As usual, she hid her various "accessories" about her person while doing so. She might as well adopt a new attire for the seafaring part of her duty to come. After putting on her long boots, Karen definitely looked quite different from usual, the plainness that once dominated her form was gone in favor of showing her real beauty.

After getting dressed, the Inquisitor stopped for a moment. There was something else that she should probably go ahead and grab. She didn't bring that deadly blade along often, but her Killing Edge would definitely be of use when it came to the Western Isles and the wretched heretics that thrived in the lawless chaos. The weapon was impossibly sharp, curved and composed of a composite steel that cut deep and was hard to break. It was the perfect killing implement. And soon enough, she had her Killing Edge in hand once more. Slowly, but surely she withdrew the weapon of murder from it's sheath. And she saw her face reflected in it's steel.

...How much blood had she dyed this blade in?

Karen did not know anymore. And she couldn't bring herself to ever try and figure it out. The Assassin quickly sheathed it once more and affixed the sheath to her belt. There was something right about having it at her side. Something horrifically right that terrified her. Karen took a deep breath and strode out of her room.

"Jule!" Now where had the little girl gotten off to? She didn't say she was going out just yet.

[Freya Brünhild]

Softly humming to herself and flipping through the pages of a thin red book, a small young woman waited patiently just outside of a tent on a stool, kicking her feet and occasionally snickering at the content in the pages. As an older man left the tent, she quietly nodded to the guard outside as he let her in. "Commander, Sir. Troubadour Brünhild at your command." she said nervously. This being her first assignment with the proper army, the same kind her brother was in, intimidated her. She had always worked with them as a Missionary, but to finally be a sworn-in active service member of the military was always something she placed highly in her mind.

In the decently large tent, Commander Willam looked up from his papers at his field desk. Across from the tent were two others, most likely from his staff. They turned around in their chairs and smiled. Actually, everyone gave a warm welcome. It calmed her a bit, still knowing she had to do her best for the brigade and listened intently. "Troubadour Brünhild, yes. Welcome to the Brigade. This is Assistant Officer Ernst Hoffmann and this is Sergeant Hans Staudt." he spoke warmly, allowing the men to give introductions. Hoffmann nodded, his appearance very well kept as well as groomed, the only exception with a pipe poking out from his left breast pocket. Staudt was much older and looked to be a veteran, with his calm and quiet presence. However, he smiled and greeted her, "Hey there."

Redirecting the conversation back to the task at hand Commander Willam pulled forth a folder and flipped through it, scanning the pages. "I was speaking with one of my Battalion commanders just now, High Officer Riva Harel, about her needing to be on leave. She's been very dedicated to the Army and has more than deserved 72 hours to do as she pleases out of camp." he stated, pausing his oration as he flipped through the pages some more. The young woman was starting to wonder what this had to do with anything. He finally got to what he was looking for and set the folder on his desk, pulling out a piece of paper and filling it out. "Just as a way to welcome you to the unit, and to make sure she doesn't sneak back into camp, I'm assigning you to her battalion as her aide. Take your time to get to know her during this time and act as an extra set of arms, legs, eyes and ears for her. She overworks herself all the time and I don't want it affecting her health, understood?" he said plainly, almost sounding like a doctor administrating his patient some medication. It made her wonder what a lot of these men would be doing if there wasn't a holy crusade being fought.

She took the slip he handed her and saluted, "Yes Sir, Commander!" Feeling the slip in her hands, she noticed there were two. "One is a leave pass for her and one is for you. Please enjoy your time off before the real work begins." he commanded, now again sounding like an officer. "Understood, Commander." she barked back, trying to keep things short and simple. She was actually looking forward to this. This could be so much fun! The Commander closed his folder and returned it to his desk, filed away. "Again, welcome to the Brigade. Dismissed, Troubadour." he said, shaking her hand. Freya saluted once again and about-faced, exiting the tent.

Wow! That was inspiring! Now she felt all military, bam boom pow! Time to get stuff done! Like... a vacation? Not too military, but she had a job to do! How exciting! She quickly made her way to where Harel's Battalion was camped, finding the banner and staff flag whipping in the air, attached to their poles. She waited patiently outside of the tent, opening up her treasured red book once more.

The tent flap opened and a tall woman with black clothes and bright red hair emerged, moving towards the stables. A bit shocked by the speed and determination the woman left, it startled her out of her seat and she closed her book. Looking down at it she felt sad she didn't place a bookmark. Oh yes! She needed to talk to her!

Quickly placing her book into an acolyte's satchel she had purchased for herself, she jogged up towards the straight-forward officer and passed her, stopping and turning around to face her. "High Officer, ma'am!" she called out, standing at attention and saluting. "Troubadour Freya Brünhild bringing a message from Commander Willam and at your command." she said enthusiastically, not sure how she would respond or react.

[Riva Harel]

Riva powered forward toward the stables, her quick but evenly-paced steps being the only force moving her closer to leave. Of course the high officer’s mind was with her troops, considering any way for her to be able to not have to go into Aquleia. Maybe she could twist her ankle on the way to the stables? No, that would keep her from working drills. She could try and simply avoid Commander Willam for the next three days. The camp was large, and she could just duck behind a nearby tent if she heard him coming.

She sighed. Maybe it was just worth it to take the leave to keep Willam off of her back. She and Willam had known one another for years, to the point where Riva could consider the both of them friends. He had offered to listen to Riva about Uri, but he had also respectfully given her space when she declined his help. The graying man honestly treated Riva as a daughter more often than not, so Riva supposed the least she could do was take the leave at his request. Not to mention, she’d have a better chance of sneaking back in after a day or so.

Lost in her thoughts, Riva nearly continued walking when the young blonde-haired troubadour stepped in front of her, body straight and tall as she saluted. A bit startled, Riva stopped nonetheless, her back straightening out of habit and saluting the young lady in return. Brunhild’s eager tone was somewhat off-putting to Riva at the moment, though this was mainly because of her soured mood. And what did the young woman mean, “at her command?” She wasn’t expecting any new recruits until early next week, and Riva knew the young lady was not currently part of her battalion.

Still, Riva wouldn’t skip the pleasantries to sate her curiosity, so she lowered her arms from her salute, outstretching her right arm and offering her hand to Brunhild. “Nice to meet you Troubadour Brunhild,” Riva responded politely. “My apologies in advance; I don’t have much time to chat.” Riva fell silent, though it would be clear to the woman in front of her that she was waiting for her to give her message. The high officer wasn’t sure what more Willam could need to tell Riva through Brunhild that he hadn’t already said in their meeting, but she assumed it was important if he was using one of the soldiers for the message. Willam knew how much Riva hated doing that with the men and women, feeling it didn’t treat them with the respect they deserved, what with being holy warriors for St. Elemine and the Prophet’s cause.

[Jule]

She had previously thought a nun's life was that of modesty and simplicity. She could see now being a nun was all about high-class and prestige. She wanted to be one too! Live in houses the size of a palace, decked out in the finest silks and jewelry...at least that was what everyone else was doing. It beat the life of a crook, and it certainly beat the hell out of the life of a seamstress. Maybe this Green Wraith business just wasn't all that it cracked up to be--no. What a dumb thing to think! Maybe she could be a nun and a master thief? It would be grand for sure. Sadly, all she could do was get a hot bath and a good night's sleep in bedding fit for a thief king. Hmph.

Yesterday was quite a boring day, but Jule obeyed Karen's wishes nonetheless and stayed silent and relatively out of sight. Despite the free spirit she was Karen had a custody of sorts over her at present. After all, what kind of 'Sister' would leave a young girl in the middle of pirate land by herself? Prrrobably not the kind that would take a young girl into the middle of pirate land. Speaking of Karen, Jule felt like she had just heard her name called. She shrugged and went back to sharpening the little metal stake she had for a sword. Okay, it was about as sharp as it was gonna get--the only thing it had been used for yet was cutting fruit. She heard her name called for sure now. Did Karen want something? Were they going somewhere? The urchin hadn't stolen anything, she was sure. Especially not under Karen's watchful eye; something about the way her eyes looked made air stick in Jule's throat. "Coming!" her voice echoed past the door and into the 'solar'. In Lycia and Bern, they were called living rooms. What made living rooms in Etruria so solar? "Another mystery for the ages, hmm..." she chided herself.


In hindsight the bath was probably moot. Her clothes were still dirty and that meant she'd be just as dirty within the next day. The important thing was they still looked nice--enough to not earn too many looks from the public. Slipping her boots on, she burst through the adjacent bedroom door in a dramatic display with a 9.5 landing. "I'm right here, I ju---" Oh jeez. Miss Karen was right next to her. That was not one of her better moments.

[Karen]

"Coming!"

Ah, there was her voice. It sounded like Jule was still in the guest room, probably getting ready to head out now.  As the Inquisitor stepped towards the room she began to put her concerns from before out of mind and begin to think about other concerns that didn't drive her mind to a dark area. Such as the idea before to get some new clothes for Jule. She'd been running around in what was essentially threadbare rags ever since Karen had met her. The frosty haired woman could definitely stand to part with some of her wage from the Church to fit the girl in some better clothing.

And there was that... pig-sticker, for lack of a better term. Karen was sure that Jule didn't suspect she was aware of it, but knowing the tells of whether someone was armed or not was a pretty vital part of her job, not to mention simply surviving to continue her work. Regardless, it didn't necessarily surprise Karen to find her with it. One just couldn't simply travel anymore with nigh-constant threats of war everywhere and the horrific monster problem. Blessed Etruria was free of the taint so far, but Lycia in particular suffered quite horribly. Yes, she supposed she should slip in the idea of making sure that Jule knew how to protect herself and had something actually adequate for doing so.

Finally, Karen came to a stop near the guest room door just as it flew open, reflexes naturally kicking in to sidestep the door. And out tumbled Jule, bringing a small grin to Karen's face as she chuckled a little.

"Ready to go out, huh? How about going shopping with me for a bit Jule? You could really use some nicer clothes."

[Judah]

Ah... There they are. Judah's keen eyes moved silently as he tracked a man leaving a building which was across the street. He'd seen this same man come here for the last three days, and then leave with something tucked under his arm. Each time, he had come in a different guise. Each time it had taken place at different times of day. But put a bored watcher in range of a mystery, and it would practically shout itself into his priority list.

Let's see.... Review. The dark robed man stood up and moved past the counter, leaving a few coins for the servers to find on his way back inside the wayfarer's inn. His mind was buzzing with thoughts about his subject as he went. He had see someone dressed like a student come the first day. That was an easy disguise to pull off here in a city of this nature. The second day, his subject had made use of the fact that a troop of craftsmen had come into town, and dressed this part as well. If he was right, and there was a package, it had been carried out in the work chest of the subject. The third day, he'd come as a courier. This made perfect sense, and Judah had nearly not caught on to this little disguise.

Judah made it inside the inn, and immediately made a beeline for the back door, switching up his pace from a leisurely step to the stride of a man with a purpose not to be denied. He knew that all three visitors had been the same. For one, the knock on the door had always been the same pattern. He couldn't hear it, but from across the street, or up in his room, he had noticed the rhythm. All three visits had ended after roughly the same amount of time. Nothing damning yet. The man's limp became more pronounced with the more weight he carried though, as became apparent after each visit. He hadn't noticed it until the second visit, but this man who had no limp on arriving at his destination inexplicably left with a limp when he carried his package off. This was proof of something going on! He was not paranoid!

Judah burst out the back door, and headed through the alleys behind the building to an intersection. Where is subject would pass through shortly. He wasn't actually interested in what was going on. Not in and of itself. He had become infected with a curiosity to see if he could actually uncover what it was though. That was the real challenge worth achieving here. He paused, stepping into a small stall and appearing to take a glance around at the wares as he waited for his prey to come into view again.

[Jule]

Jule hastily stood to attention and brushed the ground off of herself. Deciding to ignore the beads of sweat forming on her neck, she pondered Karen's offer. "What's wrong with my...Oh, you might be right." Even with her perfect and stylish roll, there was already two patches missing in her clothes. She could sew it up no sweat--being a clothier's daughter did have its perks. But since she was here in the richest country on Gaea's green earth, why not spoil herself a little. Jule could already imagine it; a flowing white robe, sealskin shoes, maybe one of those feather pins Karen had been keeping in her hair. No matter what she got she was keeping the old coat cloak thing though. Clothes made the man, but that didn't mean she couldn't keep a little piece of Lycian history with her. And a little of Bern, Illia, Nabata...okay, so she'd have a bit of everything in her pocket. It wasn't her fault the thing was falling to pieces! Not entirely anyway. Gold went to more important stuff, like fine dining, and breathing.

Picking the pieces of Western Isles and Nabata off the ground, Jule breathed deeply. "Yes, I could definitely use that." Her fingers brushed against her needle and Pig Sticker, among other things as she put the cloth away. The pretty wretch was hesitant to ask for a new sword, but back in Trent Karen had been the best fighter she'd ever seen. A warrior such as her wouldn't mind a better weapon? Clothes make the man, yes, but weapons make the other man dead! "Do you think they'll have anything my size? I'm kind of...not tall." What was the word they used for it? "Mono--no, miniscule. Everything I have is a Jule-sized custom, and I haven't seen a single noble that wasn't nearly six feet tall." Don't get her wrong, being small was pretty awesome for her line of 'work'. Reaching things and clothes were really the only problem. "Ohh, let's worry about that when we get there, I can make anything work!" she bubbled.

[Karen]

"Do you think they'll have anything my size? I'm kind of...not tall."

"I'm sure they will." Karen spoke briefly before Jule continued on.

"Mono--no, miniscule. Everything I have is a Jule-sized custom, and I haven't seen a single noble that wasn't nearly six feet tall."

The frosty haired woman hummed lightly for a moment. "Well, then we can just get a tailor to fit you with them properly. As to the nobles..." Karen briefly trailed off before looking amused. "Trust me, they're all wearing heels. Something about trying to prove they're above each other or some egotistical thing like that." She waved a hand to the side slightly, as if dismissing that particular complaint.

"Ohh, let's worry about that when we get there, I can make anything work!"

Karen began to grin once more. "Right! I'm sure that you'll be able to find something that you like."

---

The two had set off into Aquleia proper, a city of architecture with beauty unrivaled in all of Elibe. Every building was like a work of art and OH THE ART ITSELF! It was grand! It was exciting! The whole city was like a giant tapestry where the greatest of architects and artists plied their trades. And the place that Karen led Jule off to contained a plethora of merchant stalls and stores, displaying weapons and armor crafted more for ornamentation than use, but beautiful in it's own right. Paintings of beautiful landscapes and the beloved St. Elimine were also pretty commonly for sale, as well as the beautiful clothing that dominated the social landscape of the bustling former capitol of Etruria.

"Just tell me if you see anything that you like, Jule."

[Jule]

Though it was a lot of hustle and bustle, there was something missing amongst the crowds. Food, children, marketers hawking fancy gadgets...just about everything. But what was missing? She ignored what was picking at her thoughts and continued to gawk at the countless tapestries. Some told stories, some depicted heroes of myth and legend, fruits and pastries that seemed so life-like you could take them straight off of the fabric...and she could've sworn she saw a half-made work that resembled the dragon in the arena. He didn't look quite so fearsome as a rug, but the memories were frightening enough to make up for it. Her grip tightened on Karen's sleeve as they shoved past the stalls and parade of citizens. Aquleia wasn't called the City of Magic for nothing, either. Entire segments of the market were just books, books, books! Books everywhere. Most magic, some mundane. She wasn't the most spiritually adept but even she could feel the linger of heat in the air from the sheer amount of spellpower packed away. All of the real weapons were just gold, glass, or so artistically convoluted there was no way any sane woman would use it.

"It'd be easier to list what I didn't like, Sister Karen.." she whistled bashfully. "It's all so, so, extravagant! The marquess--rest his soul--would be better fit than me to even hold any of these. Is there anywhere special you go to buy your clothes?" Eventually she'd have to address the matter of a 'weapon' weapon too. Maybe they sold them in the back alleyways? The thugs and brutes back home in Lycia were all talk, but their weapons looked real enough and cut real enough. "Or are they custom-tailored?" The seams were perfectly sewn, fitting for something to be worn at a convent, and the cloak was so perfectly modest Karen could've been hiding something like an armory or an elephant underneath.

[Freya Brünhild]

The freshly conscripted Troubadour was shocked at Riva's casual response - also in a way brushing her off. Even if her new commander was letting her down nicely, she had to get her the message! "Uh... T-this is for you..." she reached into her Acolyte satchel and pulled out the two leave passes, holding them out in front of her. "Commander Willam ordered myself to accompany you during your leave, Ma'am. He said for you to train me to be your aide-de-camp." She realized her mistake as she felt the passes in her fingers that she fished out hers as well. Embarrassed, she pulled hers back into her satchel quietly.

While she felt pumped up by the Commander, she wasn't sure what to expect from her new assignment and Riva being her leader. It all was a bit intimidating, but calming down, she knew her brother was doing good things and went through much worse than passing off letters and going on vacation. She also went through worse, but the environment wasn't as highly organized as the Prophet's Army. This small reminder straightened her pose. She didn't want to seem like a burden to her new commander!

"Are you headed to the stables, High Officer, Ma'am? I have a horse as well! Her name's Gertrude!" she exclaimed, her horse being a bit of her pride and joy. Out of all the scary, uncertain, and dreadful close calls she's had - her horse has been the only stable thing in the roughly year and a half since she'd been acting as a Troubadour treating wounded on the front with her Missionary. She was not only her comforting friend, but a loyal comrade who has never failed her. "I'll follow you there, Ma'am!" she offered excitedly. It seemed the girl had too much energy.

[Riva Harel]

For a few moments Riva’s response seemed to have shocked the young girl, but Freya held out the leave passes nonetheless. However, Riva couldn’t believe what she was saying when she stated that Willam had ordered her to accompany Riva on her forced leave. What was Willam playing at, having a teenager follow her around for her leave and making Riva train her? He knew better than anyone how much she had to do, but now she was having trainees assigned to her? Oh, when she got back in three days Willam would be hearing about this. There wasn’t anything she could do right now, but she’d be damned if she was stuck with the young soldier for good.

Despite her inner dispute, Riva only gave a very subtle frown at the news, taking the passes from the recruit and examining them, as if she was hoping to find something erroneous about them. Instead, she simply handed Freya’s back to her while mechanically slipping hers into her front breast pocket, smoothing the pocket shut. “Well, no use dawdling about Miss Brunhild.” With that the high officer began the walk to the stable, assuming her new companion would be in tow – regardless of Riva’s say in the matter for now.

One thing Riva had been actually looking forward to during her trip was silence – the soothing, calming sound of silence was something Riva was rarely privy to, considering she was usually surrounded by raucous men who were raring for a fight. It didn’t bother her often, considering how much she loved her job, but every now and then she wished she could have a few moments to herself, even if it was just to offer a few prayers to the most holy Saint Elimine.

Riva had the feeling this trip would not produce those moments. They were a few minutes’ walk from the stable, so Riva could only guess what the young woman would try to talk to her about not just now, but for this entire trip. As they walked and Freya talked, Riva could only sigh, nodding in response as she spoke, hoping if she stayed silent the young woman would take the hint and quiet down as well. Granted, there was no guarantee that would happen, but you couldn’t blame Riva for trying.

[Freya Brünhild]

The excited Troubadour did chat a bit on the way to the stables about her dear horse and where she came from, but the deafening silence coming from Riva persuaded her to keep the idle chatter down. The girl didn't mind this. Perhaps the High Officer had a lot on her mind. She let her have her peace, instead happily being inside her own head and soaking her new environment in like a sponge. It was good to be back in Etruria after so long and compared to the rest of Elibe, it was truly a bastion of peace and beauty. This homeland was well worth defending.

Arriving at the stables, Freya couldn't help but show Riva her horse, Gertrude. The beast wasn't anything spectacular like the many other warhorses, but it was just as friendly as the girl was - if that were possible. It hung its head over the stable door nudging its snout up against Freya, causing the girl to giggle. "Oh come on, Gertrude. This is High Officer Harel! She's my commander now!" she said happily, opening the gate and mounting her horse. "I'm ready whenever you are, High Officer! From what I remember of Aquleia it's a very nice town, same with the surrounding area."

[Judah]

Things were not progressing quite as swiftly as Judah had hoped. He continued fingering a small embellished mirror for a moment before placing it down and picking up a small reading glass that some rare book collector would likely have perched on his library shelves. He seemed to study the glass, even testing it out by looking at the mirror's detail with it, but his attention was still set on the road. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the road, and he was watching for someone with the same posture that he'd seen a moment before on his prey. Time passed though. Too much time. Judah placed the items back down on the desk before seemingly taking interest in the stall a little closer to the roadside, and heading that way.

Plenty of robes and cloaks were hanging, plenty of tunics and dresses were on display to show off the work of the stall's owner, and plenty of cover was present to mask Judah's presence from the street as he moved deeper inside. He slowly fiddled through the hanging racks as he searched the street, but he couldn't make out any sign of the man he'd been watching. This bothered the dark haired man. He'd been sure of his conclusions, but maybe had spent a little too much time reaching this point to observe from. Maybe his subject had doubled back.... Maybe it was time that Judah refreshed his contacts in the city, and spent some time working with them.

Judah continued seeming to study the work of the tailor around him, noticing that it was only a few small racks put out in front of a minimal shop. Space was at a premium in this city, but he assumed that the person there must be talented if they remained in Aquleia. Casting a more critical eye over the wears, he started to actually inspect the work that had been put into the objects he had browsing as he kept an eye on the road.