Arrival

Rafn rose when the woman offered her hand. As he took her hand and stood he noticed her gaze linger on his finger, or,more accurately, his lack thereof. People always stared, but it made little difference to him now. When she looked up to respond to him, he noticed her more clearly. She was similar to the Joraga he had briefly encountered on Zendikar, but he doubted she was of any relation. Ideally she didn't seem to be quite as hostile, which was a calming change. He may have mentioned it, but the rest of her attire seemed apt for this world, so he elected to hold his tongue.

He examined her for a minute more before replying, "It is of little consequence... Good day," he said softly, before turning to leave. He took a few steps away before he had a thought and turned back around. "Actually," he suggested, "perhaps you may be of assistance to me. Were one to have a great thirst for knowledge, where or whom would they seek?"

High above the pair, on top of a broken arch that stood almost halfway to the next level of city above, a small, hooded, lightly mizzium-armored figure was perched at a comfortable distance away quietly watching, nonchalantly biting into a sandwich.

Coincidentally, this happened to be one of Chickenlegs's favorite rest stops on this particular route, a two-day run along the ancient arches and catwalks between Sunhome and Nivix for the Warmind Initiative on the twilight edge of the Overcity and Undercity, just above and below any ground-bound pursuers that might try to intercept the League's goods. It was here that she liked to stop and snack - maybe go to the tavern if it was cold - and watch, maybe even sketch some of the more eccentric personalities that passed through the streets below.

Initially, the Izzet messenger found no particular interest in observing the man who had exited the Gilded Lantern - such inconspicuous black leather attire was a relatively common sight in the Undercity, and nothing too new for her to see or draw. It was only when this cloaked woman fell out of... well, reality on top of him when Chickenlegs started to pay attention, pushing up her visor and squinting at the pair. Upon more focused inspection, she found the man was missing a finger, but was more curiously unfamiliar with the city (it seemed like an obvious thing to go to a library or bribe a bartender if there was something one wanted to know - then again, telling by his attire, he could have been from districts far deeper down in the Undercity, and who knew if they even had the luxury of libraries down there); and the cloaked lady, if one watched carefully and waited for her cloak to billow just slightly open from the wind, was wearing blue and red garb with metals underneath - not unlike the Izzet standard, but she herself was unfamiliar to Chickenlegs, and she'd been to nearly every Izzet facility within the central ten districts of Ravnica. Perhaps she was from one of the smaller branches beyond the central districts, experimenting with teleportals?

As the young messenger packed up to resume her return trip to Nivix, she decided that perhaps it might be nice to slow down for once and follow their trail for a bit from a distance. After all, Chickenlegs had finished her delivery; she was just going back home. Maybe the elf was headed back to the guildhall herself, and no doubt there would be a number of libraries on the way for the man to satisfy his curiosities.

Confused, Kaelyn spent a second collecting her thoughts before finally restating that only members of the Izzet League could go in and that she would not help a person violate her own guild's rules. She really didn't know what part of that he didn't understand but the more she spoke to him the more unsettled she became. Something here was off; this man's clothing suggested that he may be from the undercity, or worse... "Are you an assassin?!?" she blurted out both out of fright and excitement. Several passers by looked at the pair worriedly, but the majority paid no attention at all. With sudden realization at what she had revealed she stepped away from him waving her hands as though to imply that she wanted no part of any of this.

Kaelyn breathed a heavy sigh of relief "Thank goodness. I had not relished the idea of running foul of an assassin." Flushing suddenly with embarrassment, she quickly cast a scrying spell to locate the nearest library of any repute. She was luckly enough to not be far from the library of Airdnaxela, which was quite good. "Once again I find myself apologizing, but Airdnaxela is not far, I'll show you the way." With that she turned and started walking briskly towards it. Her face still burned hot with the false accusation, but she needed to just help him so that she might be able to move past the incident.

At a tavern not far from Airdnaxela, there was trouble brewing. The trouble was boiling like home-made alcohol from a poorly constructed distillery. Which is probably what they serve here too, Gadrick thought. He was at the centre of the building tension, waiting for the moment when it would all explode and the time was up. Once again, he found himself relying on his most refined ability; the ability to wait. He hummed quietly on a traditional lullaby from his home place, Gavony on Innistrad. His lips formed a relaxed smile as he sipped from the horrible drink he had been served. He thought he could see pieces of a dead spider in it.

Sudden as lightning from clear sky, the trouble burst its boundaries and filled the entire tavern. People began hitting each other while swear words, teeth, and empty mugs flew across the room. "Here's for the drink," Gadrick said, flicking some golden coins to the bartender. "There's nothing wrong with your eyes, I only paid half. You'll get the rest the next time I decide to drink whatever it is you serve. Which probably means never. Goodbye!" He dodged a couple of fists, took some punches, but managed to get to the back door. Just as he left, he saw Azorius officers enter through the main door.

"Distraction accomplished," he whispered contentedly to himself.

"Why are you..." Kaelyn looked back at the strange man who was thankfully not an assassin and shrugged. He certainly was a strange man... With him distracted she could go about her other business. Suddenly flooded with purpose again Ms. Tempierro focused her mana reserves into another scrying spell to figure out where on Ravnica she was. "Orzhova district... of course!" That explained the lack of blue mana as well as the fact that she was coming at Airdnaxela from an angle she didn't recognize. Now to find the way to Nivix and try and figure out when she was...