Quote:
|
“These riots,” he said, walking slowly over to where the servitor hovered uncertainly, “do they happen often?”
|
"Riots?" the arbites that Garrus is talking to replies, "naw, not big ones at least. Brawls and muggings, often enough. Whats strange is that recently we've seen a spike in attacks, most of them random enough. We don't have the power to get rid of the scum in this town, just kill 'em when they they step out of line, so things been bad lately.
"But don't worry. Your master will be safe in the refectories, we have guards there 24/7. Never once in the history of this planet has the refectories been breached."
The arbites took formation around the priest and began moving out of the alleyway. The remaining three men quickly took note and followed them. The servitor, who realized his job was no longer needed, simply faded away back into the streets of the Port Town.
The streets were still crowded. But the arbites presence helped the group pass through the streets quickly.
For the first time you notice a strange, iron-like smell, Carcer sniffs the air and asks a nearby arbite, "that smells like a narcotic, what is it?"
The man simply replies, "Ghostfire pollen, sir."
After several minutes of brisk marching, the group arrives at the Refectories, the arbite sergeant says to Angelus, "sir, if we may, I and my men will take our leave. My name is Sergeant Jak, contact me if you need anything."
Angelus nods and wordlessly sends them off with a wave of his hands.
As the arbites leave, a small man, wearing fine clothes arrives. "Ah yes, the offworlders. Come to see Aristarchus, sirs?"
Angelus answers in the affirmitve, and the four men are led into to somewhat comfortable looking chamber. Thick rugs cover the floors, and there are a few pieces of wooden furniture. A man, wearing the robes of a pilgrim, head shaven, and the mark of a pyker on his right cheek sits at a desk reading a data-slate. As the four men enter the room, the man looks up. "Welcome! I am Seer Aristarchus. I trust the trip passed quickly?" As he says this, you notice a a set of large ivory cards, which is promptly places in a silver case which he then places in a pocket of his robes.
The man gets off his chair and approaches the group. At his side is a large black satchel hanging at his side. It is made from an expensive emadar silk, and held shut with several lead purity symbols, each one baring a long crimson ribbon that trails behind him. He shakes each and everyone of your hands with a warm smile. He then gestures for you to sit, there are several rough chairs and a couch in the room.