This Farrg was certainly an interesting individual: first he recovered from a seemingly fatal blast at the Point before jumping up and leading the party on their merry way, and now he had brought them to Iron’s End and hobbled off yet again in such a nonchalant way that Eeiys would have almost mistaken his confidence for foolishness. However, it was unusual for Farrg, especially 2nd stage, to be unaware of their actions. Eeiys shrugged it off, assuming that the storyteller would keep his word and meet them back at the entrance by morning. The entire party was obviously a little bit shaken by sudden disappearance of their apparently guide, and tired from the day’s heavy march, and, in the Alunei’s case, still badly wounded for whatever reason. The exile knight eyed a few of the guards lining the gate pathway and they eyed him back, obviously curious about the nature of his armour. He quickly turned his head again, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention before simply wandering off deeper into the city, leaving the rag-tag party to their own devices. He’d be back by morning and he expected they’d do the same. 

The town itself was… dirty. Open sewers lined the poorer districts where men and women, all caked in filth and sweat, would wander with no obvious purpose, murmuring to one another, crossing paths with astounding intricacy and pace. Children weaved in and out of the masses of serfs while screaming and laughing with joy as they played, unaware of the economical plight of their elders. They’d learn some day. The poorer districts had the smell and sound of every other city south of Uacteir Balla, a hustle and bustle filled the air, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of piss and ale. Some people enjoyed such squalid conditions, in fact, they almost thrived in it, but Eeiys just found it all a little bit sad. These people were born with such potential, and they were content to be poor tailors and weavers and miners and blacksmiths. Expected of a mining town, of course, but disappointing nonetheless. He began to block out the cacophony of sounds, focusing his mind on where he was going to stay low-profile until dawn. Some food would not go amiss, either. Eeiys stopped in his tracks and turned a full circle, getting his bearings and trying to find a suitable place to stop for the night, until something caught his eye: a small curtained shack nestled between a carpet shop and a general merchant stall. Behind the two disjointed scraps of fabric that served as it’s door, Eeiys could make out a curious looking woman, adorned all in purple and wearing a myriad of assorted gold chains and necklaces and rings that clung to every fold of her robes. A mystic? Eeiys knew he couldn’t resist seeing what services she was offering. It would have made a change from the mud-caked streets.

Pushing his way through the curtains, the woman looked up from her seemingly mundane bowl of crystal clear water; she looked almost surprised to see him, but she did not gasp or exclaim at his presence. She acted rather professional, actually, and immediately beckoned him to sit. Eeiys did so with a little hesitation, sliding three bronze coins onto the table, which the woman immediately snapped up greedily and placed into one of the folds of her clothing. 

“What does the future hold?” he asked, a little skeptical. 

“For you? Yes. Your future is cloudy. Methinks you journey with a purpose” she replied. 

“Everybody journeys with a purpose,” he retorted. 

“But not everybody journeys with a burden. Methinks you bear a terrible weight” 

“Everybody bears a terrible weight,”

“But not everybody’s weight is so cloudy,” 

Eeiys did not reply, instead he looked deep into the mystic’s eyes. 
She stared back for a moment, before she started again.

“Methinks you hide your face with good reason. Are you really a person, or do you embody an idea? A bulwark in the darkness? Or are you a bulwark against the light?” She began to cackle uncontrollably. The thought of putting Frost through her head crossed Eeiys’ mind, but it seemed unnecessarily cruel. She probably said these words to every traveller who stumbled into her shack. 

“…but what do you see, hag?” 

It took the woman a few moments to regain her unsettling composure, before looking down into her bowl of water. It was quickly becoming apparent that this was not water. 

“I see the Winter and Summer, struggling for dominance. Methinks your soul is divided between the cold and the warm. I see an immortal soul… and the end of a mortal one. I see you, Eeiys. Alone in the Winter,” 

Eeiys shot up from his seat by the table. She knew who he was. He should not have come here. He could not risk his secret getting out. He could not have another town militia try their luck against him. Not this time. This time, he was close. 
Drawing Frost from it’s sheathe, he pointed the tip at the Mystic, with the full intention to strike. Her reaction, however, was unexpected. Instead of recoiling across the room and begging for mercy, she seemed more intrigued than ever. She approached Frost, running her fingers along the flat of the blade and… [i]sniffing[/i] it. Eeiys was too taken aback to strike. She was utterly mad. 
Suddenly, her eyes pricked up, and she finally recoiled in horror.

“You! The sword! You are folly, you do not know what you carry! You don’t- How did you-?” 

For whatever reason, her horror was apparent. But he did not risk her telling anyone about his presence. He slid the unnaturally sharp blade through her neck, and her words turned to incoherent babbling. Blood welled at her mouth and she choked. She was dead before she hit the floor. She died quietly, even if she did claw at her wound before realising it was foolhardy. 
Cleaning Frost of her blood, Eeiys quickly and quietly dragged the body to the corner of the shack before shoddily tossing a few stray blankets and pillows over her, hopefully hiding her away until he had fled the area. 
Eeiys emerged from the shack, stretched his arms and back rather casually as to not draw attention to himself, and began a hearty stroll back the way he came. Maybe there was a tavern on the other side of town he could rest at… 

But then… 

(Darkmatter or anyone else is free to lead on from here. Couldn’t be bothered to wait for a collab. Any NPC interaction or whatever is fine :lol)