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TheDoomsayer
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Destroyer of (his own) worlds
The desert. The desert was a wonderful place for Kelter to visit. First and foremost, he was dressed completely in black. He sat in a darkened corner of some tavern that he hadn't caught the name of trying to avoid the heat. Sweat glistened on his brow and he had loosened his arm guards slightly. Secondly, (and actually an argument for the desert being a wonderful place) the inn was dark, empty and stank of carrion – he doubted anyone he had ever known would suspect to find him here.

Thirdly, and somewhat both in and out of favour with Kelter's argument that coming to Canyonface City was an idea that bared a thread of intelligence, there was a beer in front of him. It was a slightly warm and slightly distasteful beer but it was cheap and it was there. The barkeep had barely raised an eyebrow at him. Clearly, he'd seen rougher types walk into this bar and clearly he could handle them.

From what Kelter could see from his disadvantaged height, the man was weathered and even bore a few minor scars. He had a black beard that ended with a tip and a white turban that seemed far too clean to belong to the man. Beneath the bar and at the man's belt was a scimitar of a worn, dull metal. It's hilt was layered in leather and faded gilt and his hand was always near if not on it.

Kelter sipped at his beer and then put his head in his hands, thinking. He had until nightfall to finish whatever plans he'd create, because even a brown desert was dark at night. He heard someone nearing the door and then step into the bar. He looked, barely moving his hands. It was just a hiskr. He sat near the bar and began talking. To himself. Kelter smiled.

He's be able to rob this hiskr blind in broad daylight without a problem. The barkeep mightn't mind, although he'd slip him a a copper or two to ensure his silence – if the hiskr had that much on him. He'd risk letting his presence here become more known once he had spent a few more days judging the guards and the people. Kelter sat up and sipped at his beer again, staring past and around te hiskr but looking directly at him the entire time.

He'd probably be fast. That might be an issue.
Edited by TheDoomsayer, Sep 5 2011, 06:36 PM.
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Sand, Sand, and More Sand · Canyonface Dwellings


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