Caldyr flits from rooftop to rooftop, watching for followers. Sara silently makes her way towards the place she sleeps at what passes for night in the Neath. First, however, is a necessary side trip, not too far off from the Spire-Emporium she calls home - her Premises at the Bazaar. Caldyr perches himself upon her shoulder as she fishes the right key out of a pocket.
Inside the place looks rather barren, meeting only the minimal furniture requirements and not much decoration. This is fine - no one lives here, or remembers much of their visits. Only a single path is open, the rest of the rooms being securely locked. There is just one who knows what lies beyond these doorways, or where the keys to unlock them hide. The white raven perches himself upon a seat, waiting silently. Sara progresses down the solitary path available to her.
The end of the hall leads to a moderately more decorated room, a little small in size. Inside is a bookcase, filled with various volumes of an academic nature. There is also a desk, containing various office supplies. While there is a carpet investigating underneath it would yield no results. Nothing lies behind the bookcase, and the desk hides no secrets. Sara lights a candle and waits. Soon the sound of mechanisms reaches her ear. She looks in their direction, and the far wall slides down most of the way, the remainder being easy to step over. Behind lies a door, with a vague hint of irrigo playing at its dark edges. She tests it - alas, locked. Fortunately, Caldyr soon arrives with the key. He ceremoniously places it upon the floor, leaving just as swiftly as he arrived.
Beyond the door and through the irrigo veils is a private shrine. Here is the place of forgotten Rites, forgotten Memories, burned Paperwork. The meeting and its location is forgotten. The information provided only just prior to the meeting is forgotten. The card stating "it is time" consigned to a small flame, its ashes gathered up and placed in her bag to be dealt with later. Sara leaves the room in a slight haze of familiar confusion. She then acts upon the one bit of information she is allowed, moving the bookcase to the side to spy a small hole in what remains of the false wall. She uses this to slide it back upwards until she can do so by merely pushing upwards against it, stopping when she hears it click into place.
Sara returns the key to Caldyr when she encounters him in the dark hallway. She continues onward, not looking to see where Caldyr hides it. They leave the premises together, Caldyr resuming his duty as lookout.
"So what did I learn?" asks Sara, now that the two were back to the safety of the Bazaar. She empties the contents of her bag, inspecting them curiously. There’s little point; anything that would be related has been lost. She is not allowed to know the full story.
"Nothing of importance," spoke Caldyr in response, perched nearby.
Sara tilts her head, puzzled. Nothing? How odd. "Hm. So is there a plan?"
Caldyr nods cheerfully. Ah, something nice, then. "We are going to start a fundraiser to help the needy of Flowerdene."
"Huh, that’s…a bit out of the ordinary. Who am I working for, again?" Realizing what she said, Sara makes a face and shakes her head. "Sorry, dumb question. So, Flowerdene, huh? Well, can’t deny that they are some of the neediest. Church work, I guess. The Great Game might be a decent source of funds too, if I contact the right peo- what’s this?" Caldyr had passed a transcribed message to her. "A big conflict in Spite?"
The raven nods. "You should seek information in one of the places listed. Be sure to also ask who within Flowerdene needs the most help, and what supplies they require."
"Oh, okay." She looks the note over, memorizing the addresses. "So that’s it, right? Charity work due to this vague conflict on the horizon?" Caldyr nods, and moves to his perch to rest for the night.
Sara mulls the matter over in her mind as she gets ready to settle down herself. While the charity work is a nice little change of pace she can’t help being nervous. What is about to happen, and on what scale? Sleep takes her away neither swiftly nor soundly.
edited by Sara Hysaro on 11/5/2017