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Avin

No noise whatsoever, except the sound of his own footsteps. He paused.  Not natural.

He closed his eyes, trying to erase the life of a duke from his mind. Then he opened them slowly and started forward again, noiseless even though he wore hard-soled shoes. But still he grimaced at the little crunching sounds of gravel beneath his feet.

One year as a duke and already the old habits start to slip.

The darkness slowly began to unwind as the rock walls at either hand widened and opened into a room. His quick eyes had adjusted to the light; there were people in here. It took him a moment to see them, but he was as certian of their existance as he was of his own. A thousand things told him so: the feeling of the air when there are living creatures there. The sounds of their breathing and shuffling. He flattened himself against the wall, melting into the shadows.

Too late.

He cursed himself inwardly.

They had seen him.

He felt all over his rich leather belt, buckled with silver and turquiose, but it was empty. No bow, no knife, no sword. Only the knife he kept in his boot was there, thin and cold and small. He braced his foot against the wall behind him and let his hand fall down near it, apparently in an attitude of perfect relaxation.

Someone was coming.

@denali-christianson or @jared-williams, idk why, but I feel like one of your characters would notice him. but then, @rose-colored-fancy, I know next to nothing about Mjet, Halmar, and Mori. Have fun or leave it alone, soon or in a few months. Totally up to you guys.