The following morning, the sun shone bright in the clear blue sky as the hooded figure of Fejar wandered about the city, a long pole strapped to his back. He stopped occasionally to ask for directions from random passersby, but he had no real destination: he merely wished to learn the layout of this new city he was to reside in for the time being. He continued his wanderings until he happened to stumble upon an unexpected sight: a miqo'te woman, body battered and beaten, lying in an alleyway in a pool of what was likely her own blood.
"Perhaps I would do well not to linger here," the young miqo'te man thought to himself.
He stared down the alleyway, pondering. Could she be dead? She may be in dire need of medical attention; he could even provide such attention, but there was too much he didn't know. He knew this place was a haven for pirates, and helping this woman may later put himself in her position. Besides, she looked tough; far heartier than he. Still, he could not ignore it.
Resolving to inform a guard, Fejar hurried off in search of one. Finding an authoritative-looking man with little trouble, he stammered, "S-ser! In an alleyway a few yalms yonder, a woman lies beaten near to death..."
The guard he had found looked reliable. There was, in fact, nothing about the look of him to suggest otherwise; he was very well-kept, his face was assuring, and his shining armor glinted gracefully in the morning sun. Fejar was certain that he had made the right decision.
"Right. Lead the way, then," the man replied certainly; so certainly that Fejar could not help but wonder just how often this sort of thing occurred...
Having led the man back to the scene, Fejar stood watch at the end of the alleyway, satisfied, but still curious. The guard calmly approached the woman where she lay, and kneeling over her, examined her, rather less certainly asking, "Lass, can you hear me? Open your eyes," prompting Fejar to call after, "Will she be alright?"
"Perhaps I would do well not to linger here," the young miqo'te man thought to himself.
He stared down the alleyway, pondering. Could she be dead? She may be in dire need of medical attention; he could even provide such attention, but there was too much he didn't know. He knew this place was a haven for pirates, and helping this woman may later put himself in her position. Besides, she looked tough; far heartier than he. Still, he could not ignore it.
Resolving to inform a guard, Fejar hurried off in search of one. Finding an authoritative-looking man with little trouble, he stammered, "S-ser! In an alleyway a few yalms yonder, a woman lies beaten near to death..."
The guard he had found looked reliable. There was, in fact, nothing about the look of him to suggest otherwise; he was very well-kept, his face was assuring, and his shining armor glinted gracefully in the morning sun. Fejar was certain that he had made the right decision.
"Right. Lead the way, then," the man replied certainly; so certainly that Fejar could not help but wonder just how often this sort of thing occurred...
Having led the man back to the scene, Fejar stood watch at the end of the alleyway, satisfied, but still curious. The guard calmly approached the woman where she lay, and kneeling over her, examined her, rather less certainly asking, "Lass, can you hear me? Open your eyes," prompting Fejar to call after, "Will she be alright?"
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