Veleria did not sleep well. In fact, she could barely rest at all, for every time she came close to drifting off she felt eyes on her. One night she threw her sheets over the mask. Another, she stuffed it into her pack. It always ended up back on the vanity where it appeared to leer at her. Eventually she snuggled up next to Caed who was pleased to have her. As they were close to the mountain in this city the snow came early, and Caed’s thinner build was giving him a hard time of it. Holding her close offered him the best sleep of his life.
Given his proclivity towards objects of magical origin, she opened up to Wren about the mask attaching itself to her. He seemed somewhat distressed knowing it had marked her, but calmed when she admitted to not seeing a “Dark Stranger” following her. Or speaking to her.
“I guess even the God of Many Faces has a v-vested interest in your journey. They are in no way exempt from the p-problems of our world.” He told her, and Veleria figured that explanation was good enough. She did find herself interested in the so-called “Dark Stranger” that had plagued Adrian his entire life. Why they chose not to reveal themselves to her was a mystery, but Veleria was patient. She could wait.
On the other side of Ashvale, Adrian had ruminated on his mistakes. It was easier without the mask poisoning his thoughts, though he often found himself worrying about Veleria and how his deity could be influencing her. He knew he could not face her yet. He had spoken at length with Melissa who had, while not forgiving him, given him advice and allowed him in her bed again, which Adrian used most sparingly.
He was hovering his quill over Cromwell’s proposal when Mason spoke to him from across the table.
“There are good recruits here and a shitload of money. Telling him off back then was a choice, but I think we need to reconsider.” He reached over to point towards one sentence on the parchment. “Listen, these two routes go straight through Oakridge and Tollenstale, both of which Alk’Hath uses to nab sorcerers. Not to mention all the other shitty hovels along the way that she finds them in.”
“Yeah…” Adrian rubbed his forehead.
“Raker went poking around in Almor looking for you. If we didn’t have Meredith—the scariest witch that side of the continent—we could have been staring down disaster, Adrian. I hate to do this to you but the lich has my blessing.”
He was hearing that a lot lately. ‘Hate to do this,’ and ‘but,’ all of which Adrian knew was well meaning. There was no denying that Ashvale was a rich town. The places in between here and Mt. Yelugh were equally well off. Althalos Cromwell knew what he was and generally kept his involvement contained, but since Adrian found Veleria in that corpse pile things had changed in the surrounding areas. He was expanding.
Something big was coming.
Adrian wrote his terms and stamped his signature in the appropriate location. He sealed it, then held it out to Mason who only stared at him.
“Give it to her yourself.” He said.
“You know I can’t do that. The shit I said to her—“
“All the more reason to unstick your ass from my bar and apologize.” Mason grabbed a nearby tankard. For once, Adrian did not have his own. It wasn’t easy and he had migraines most days, but he was trying to drink less. If he wanted to talk to Veleria then he needed to be at least mostly sober. He twitched watching Mason down the thing. “I think they leave in like two days, right? That’s when Mel said Wren’s place would be freed up for her. Better grow some courage.”