The dust had always irritated him, the way it just clung to everything. If you cleaned it, it would simply reappear given time. And Thanalan had been ripe for dust, always had been, and likely always would be. And Nonotano hated the dust and subsequently, had always hated Thanalan. And yet he had thrived here, as a weed might in a well groomed yard, somehow surviving, and somehow able to thrive, despite the threats it faced.
Nonotano had also survived, much like the weed. He should have likely been dead already at least three times over, and yet the Twelve had spared him over and over. He knew that meant something important....and no it didn't mean some riddle-laced tripe about fate and destiny. He knew better and despised those who were suckered into such nonsense. No...he knew it meant he was lucky, and he hoped to carry that luck onward as he had finally decided it was time to stop hiding. He'd been avoind Ul'dah and had even adopted a new name to maintain his anonymity. "Krell". It was a ridiculous farce, the name, but he he'd grown accustomed to it and decided he would keep it.
As he neared the steps outside of Ul'dah's Gate of Nald, he sighed and brushed the dust the best could from his robes. The steps were always difficult with his limp. He looked up, smiled, and raised the hood of robe over his head, as to conceal his crimson locks and face somewhat. Some discretion would still be best, given some of the overeager buffoons in the Sultansworn or Flames running about. He began up the steps and into the city for the first time in months.
And he hoped he would find a kindrid soul sooner than later, as he had work to do.
Nonotano had also survived, much like the weed. He should have likely been dead already at least three times over, and yet the Twelve had spared him over and over. He knew that meant something important....and no it didn't mean some riddle-laced tripe about fate and destiny. He knew better and despised those who were suckered into such nonsense. No...he knew it meant he was lucky, and he hoped to carry that luck onward as he had finally decided it was time to stop hiding. He'd been avoind Ul'dah and had even adopted a new name to maintain his anonymity. "Krell". It was a ridiculous farce, the name, but he he'd grown accustomed to it and decided he would keep it.
As he neared the steps outside of Ul'dah's Gate of Nald, he sighed and brushed the dust the best could from his robes. The steps were always difficult with his limp. He looked up, smiled, and raised the hood of robe over his head, as to conceal his crimson locks and face somewhat. Some discretion would still be best, given some of the overeager buffoons in the Sultansworn or Flames running about. He began up the steps and into the city for the first time in months.
And he hoped he would find a kindrid soul sooner than later, as he had work to do.
