This place was so very different from the land he'd come to call his home. Adela was a wooded land, thick with trees and ripe for mystery in the places civilization had yet to settle. Perfect for hunting in the early morning gloom. But this land was broad and wide, he thought as his caravan traveled through the tundra. He could see for miles in nearly every direction and with the exception of a few copses here and there and lowly constructed hamlets, there was a sheer amount of emptiness that he'd never seen before.
With his distraction at his surroundings, he almost didn't remember why he was coming to his seeming barren land in the first place. The caravan was taking a turn towards what the guides had called the Matron's Hollow. He was not quite familiarized with Connlaothian history but it was an interesting name for an intriguing place. Here the land became even emptier, open. They were heading to a small town that didn't even seem important enough to put on a map in order to make shipping arrangements here. Personally he had doubts the deal would pull through since the only way to make the trip a real economical investment would be to ship it out be sea and with a lake still miles away, he didn't see how that would benefit the family business at all.
But enough of the facts and figures, he settled on making the most of this trip while he could since he didn't know when he would be back here again after all. The town they stopped in was small and comfortable, but big enough to have importance on a map. As evening fell, he felt exhausted from sitting all throughout the journey, he felt compelled to take a stroll. What could go wrong on a night like this?
These people were strange to look at and they too gave him strange looks as he took his time on the streets. He wasn't dressed conspicuously or as if he was about to start trouble, but he was taller than almost everyone else. As the darkness thickened, the streets began to thin, but he felt to qualms about wandering in the dark. There was a gentle caress to the shadows that Corvus had a hard time resisting. He sat below a statue of a woman that appeared stark against the moonlight, and retrieved a pipe from his coat, stuffing the core with a slit of tobacco before taking a look around to see that no one was particularly interested in eying him anymore. He'd heard the stories of the sentiments people had against mages here and magic users, but he figured a small flick of flame to light a smoke would be harmless...provided nobody saw it. He did it quickly, a snap of his fingers sparking a violet flame before snuffing it with a shake of his hand and puffing on the pipe.
He truly was enamored with the night, the way the stars were like diamond eyes peering down at him. Yet, he didn't notice was resided in the statue's palm behind him. The hair on the back of his neck began to stand.
