Iarion sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Iarion and Barlo left Voral bound and gagged in Sinstari’s custody before working their way toward the city gates. The quiet streets grew busier as they reached the seedier area on the outskirts, where celebrations were still in full swing. A man was weaving through the crowd, handing out parchment fliers as he went. He rushed over to greet the elf and dwarf.
“Greetings!” he said in a hearty voice, eyeing their attire. “I can see you are strangers to the city. Are either of you looking for some companionship this Solstice Eve? If so, Felgar’s is the finest gentlemen’s establishment in all of Nal Huraseadro. Come enjoy our fine mead, and take your leisure with one of our lovely companions.”
He thrust a flier at Barlo, who took it without thinki
