Music~
Redan Connor
La Gracia
Tremoon, 4417
Scents of real people living real lives wafted across the Beato. Spiced stews, cheap ale, and sweat from an honest day’s labor. The familiar scents had come to pass for the comfort of home and an evening’s rest in the city of man.
Redan leaned against a lamppost on the respectable end of the Passo Sacrificio, scowling at staring passersby as he waited. He glanced down, grimacing at the talbor that was drawing the unwelcome attention. Amadeo’s valet had delivered the fine garb the day before. The coat fit him like a second skin, its hem brushing a finger’s breadth below his knees. Every inch of its emerald silk was embroidered in swirling vines of garnet and gold. Loose silk pantaloons narrowed at his ankles, and a gold damask cap hid the stu
