The day was hot, which wasn't saying much. Sea of chaos though Ul'dah could be, at least it was reliably hot. That the one thing it was reliable about was a source of constant aggravation for Anstarra was more or less the summation of her relationship with the infernal city. (And with certain people, but that wasn't something she felt like thinking about today.)
"Don't feel like thinking about any bloody thing today..." she murmured, in response to her own thoughts. No one noticed the comment, or at least, if any of the servants on the café's terrace did, they were polite enough to pretend not to notice. Unfortunately, not thinking about things wasn't an option.
For the twelfth time or so, she looked at the parchment. And for the twelfth time or so, she had that gut feeling that foreboded nothing good. The drawing was clever.. visually-derived from Ul'dah's flag as it was, it surely caught the eye. The draconic symbology was more worrisome, and likely the cause of her indigestion.
Taking another sip of chilled wine, she struggled to wrap her head around what it could all mean. In retrospect, trying to take time to think while in the heat and mildly drunk was really just not the most efficient of methodologies, but she didn't want to leave town just yet (and not drinking wasn't really an option). Despite how much she hated it here - especially of late - this is where things were happening. If only she could catch a glimpse of whoever was putting these blasted things up...
"It has to be those two. Right?" More agitation, more chaos. It stank of Gerchon and that No-Eyed Man. People were buzzing, to be sure. No small number took offense at the obvious deformation of their beloved flag. Combined with all the madness in the skies over Mor Dhona and upper crust of the city alike... well, her sense of foreboding had ample soil in which to take root.
They needed to hurry up. Destroy the wyrmtears, clear out the threat for good and all. She needed to talk to Orrin about that.. while she'd been watching the skies the night before, the blindingly obvious realization that even if destroying the tears drew the Horde down on them, it would likely take days to arrive by flight unless they did it somewhat closer to Dravania, had chained onto the notion that the dragons would likely arrive seeking a LOCATION, not specific PEOPLE. And would proceed to unleash their rage on anyone and anything they found, at that LOCATION.
Which had kindled other possibilities.
An abandoned locale might be a good place for dragons to show up in force, but how much better, oh, say, a Garlean Castrum?
"Now that would light up the skies..." she muttered, smirking as she folded up the parchment, tucking it away. "Topple the Scales indeed..."
"Don't feel like thinking about any bloody thing today..." she murmured, in response to her own thoughts. No one noticed the comment, or at least, if any of the servants on the café's terrace did, they were polite enough to pretend not to notice. Unfortunately, not thinking about things wasn't an option.
For the twelfth time or so, she looked at the parchment. And for the twelfth time or so, she had that gut feeling that foreboded nothing good. The drawing was clever.. visually-derived from Ul'dah's flag as it was, it surely caught the eye. The draconic symbology was more worrisome, and likely the cause of her indigestion.
Taking another sip of chilled wine, she struggled to wrap her head around what it could all mean. In retrospect, trying to take time to think while in the heat and mildly drunk was really just not the most efficient of methodologies, but she didn't want to leave town just yet (and not drinking wasn't really an option). Despite how much she hated it here - especially of late - this is where things were happening. If only she could catch a glimpse of whoever was putting these blasted things up...
"It has to be those two. Right?" More agitation, more chaos. It stank of Gerchon and that No-Eyed Man. People were buzzing, to be sure. No small number took offense at the obvious deformation of their beloved flag. Combined with all the madness in the skies over Mor Dhona and upper crust of the city alike... well, her sense of foreboding had ample soil in which to take root.
They needed to hurry up. Destroy the wyrmtears, clear out the threat for good and all. She needed to talk to Orrin about that.. while she'd been watching the skies the night before, the blindingly obvious realization that even if destroying the tears drew the Horde down on them, it would likely take days to arrive by flight unless they did it somewhat closer to Dravania, had chained onto the notion that the dragons would likely arrive seeking a LOCATION, not specific PEOPLE. And would proceed to unleash their rage on anyone and anything they found, at that LOCATION.
Which had kindled other possibilities.
An abandoned locale might be a good place for dragons to show up in force, but how much better, oh, say, a Garlean Castrum?
"Now that would light up the skies..." she muttered, smirking as she folded up the parchment, tucking it away. "Topple the Scales indeed..."
![[Image: MBLxxyE.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/MBLxxyE.gif)
