There in Ul'dah low-streets lay a discarded edition of the news; It caught Kahn'a's eyes. The Keeper stepped out of the shadows, and in barely more time than was needed to blink, shot out his hand and claimed the roll for himself. Once out of the way, he indulged his curiosity and glanced over the titles. There was one his eyes could not help but come back to, quite literally drawn to it. The Sex Queen of Ul'dah opening up a tavern of sorts in The Goblet. The Keeper's mouth pursed in disgust.
Mother, I truly wish you're dead, methinks you'd have been grieved by this very sight. Kin rolling in mud in hopes of striking gold, that's what that is.
An insidious and intrusive little voice murmured that perhaps, he was not that different. His goal was not gold, but when he donned the uniform, he had sold his body as well in some regard. The prospect of similarities between the two distilled a powerful fear in his heart, and so he quickly cast the roll aside, as if prolonged contact could stain his already dirty hands. Of course, the establishment was meant to be a place of leisure and respite, but Kahn'a harboured the doubt that with such a benefactor at its head, desperate souls — and not the poor kind — would converge to it.
He spared the newspapers no second look, for in his mind bloomed another idea. Resuming his skulking through the streets, Kahn'a smirked to himself. If the rich and the yearning were to make the fortune of such an establishment with regular attendance, then there would definitely be opportunities for business…
Mother, I truly wish you're dead, methinks you'd have been grieved by this very sight. Kin rolling in mud in hopes of striking gold, that's what that is.
An insidious and intrusive little voice murmured that perhaps, he was not that different. His goal was not gold, but when he donned the uniform, he had sold his body as well in some regard. The prospect of similarities between the two distilled a powerful fear in his heart, and so he quickly cast the roll aside, as if prolonged contact could stain his already dirty hands. Of course, the establishment was meant to be a place of leisure and respite, but Kahn'a harboured the doubt that with such a benefactor at its head, desperate souls — and not the poor kind — would converge to it.
He spared the newspapers no second look, for in his mind bloomed another idea. Resuming his skulking through the streets, Kahn'a smirked to himself. If the rich and the yearning were to make the fortune of such an establishment with regular attendance, then there would definitely be opportunities for business…
