2nd of Frost
The Spinning Coin stank of overripe opportunity. That, and the bitter taste of broken hope.
Urs was nestled in a corner, away from the gambling and drunkards. This had always been the sort of place Mother had warned against. There’d been dozens of betting rings littered through the Midden. Each one was worse than the next, bartenders drowning their customers in cheap ale. The liquor loosened their wallets, and eventually, what else the liquor loosened was lost completely.
All sorts of spiders lurk, Mother would whisper, where the flies play.
The dark of Urs’ eyes cast the world’s reflection in silver. He threw his Seeing out through the gambling den. There, a pretty young woman wreathed in casual deceit. She played at being drunk, at being weak, and was quick to sneak coins from pocket or purse. There, a prettier young man pretended idiocy to lure another into a losing game.
None were the spider he’d asked after.
There weren’t many contacts he’d kept when he left for the Upside. When Mother was dying, she’d said that he and the Midden were done with each other. He’d shared a bit of his light and in return, the Midden taught him in its own way. And, when she’d died, he left and tried to cut his past loose - to go forward without weight of any kind.
He did, almost. He held on to a few friends. A few names. People that would help, without asking too many questions. In return for a promised favor, or two.
He’d recently spent a few favors to find a new name. Charlie. Supposedly charming enough to get into all sorts of places he wasn’t supposed to be - and, apparently, decent enough at finding out all sorts of things.
And, perhaps most importantly, this spider - if the rumors were to be believed - might have contacts in Zaichaer.
Urs was nestled in a corner, away from the gambling and drunkards. This had always been the sort of place Mother had warned against. There’d been dozens of betting rings littered through the Midden. Each one was worse than the next, bartenders drowning their customers in cheap ale. The liquor loosened their wallets, and eventually, what else the liquor loosened was lost completely.
All sorts of spiders lurk, Mother would whisper, where the flies play.
The dark of Urs’ eyes cast the world’s reflection in silver. He threw his Seeing out through the gambling den. There, a pretty young woman wreathed in casual deceit. She played at being drunk, at being weak, and was quick to sneak coins from pocket or purse. There, a prettier young man pretended idiocy to lure another into a losing game.
None were the spider he’d asked after.
There weren’t many contacts he’d kept when he left for the Upside. When Mother was dying, she’d said that he and the Midden were done with each other. He’d shared a bit of his light and in return, the Midden taught him in its own way. And, when she’d died, he left and tried to cut his past loose - to go forward without weight of any kind.
He did, almost. He held on to a few friends. A few names. People that would help, without asking too many questions. In return for a promised favor, or two.
He’d recently spent a few favors to find a new name. Charlie. Supposedly charming enough to get into all sorts of places he wasn’t supposed to be - and, apparently, decent enough at finding out all sorts of things.
And, perhaps most importantly, this spider - if the rumors were to be believed - might have contacts in Zaichaer.
