Snippet #2589317

Normally when one reads a book, each sentence is read once, in succession. Zhyle did not find this the case has he watched over the street as he read the book he had purchased the previous day. He constantly found himself glancing up, losing his page and letting his mind wander. The book was by no means challenging, a simple collection of local fables and myths. Local gods, old pagan dieties, that sort of thing. Rather worthless in the long run, but maybe he could get some idea of the people, and more importantly, the land from these.

But as his mind wandered this course he found himself lost in the text again, closing the book in frustration at his own inability to focus for now. It was weighing on him that he was not producing anything of value for the group right now, with the other pair presumably off making money. Saerin probably setting up shop in some back alley somewhere where the mood was right for his tarot readings and Miralda in the large colosseum that dominated the view in front of him. He worried for her, to be frank. While Saerin appeared to have a good head on his shoulders, he was older and if they were to leave this town there was no assurance that he would survive more trips into the desert, despite how well he had held up on the first go around. And if Miralda just foolishly threw her life away for coin now... well, a companion from Tyvern was going to be much appreciated at any rate.

Zhyle approached the arena entrances, looking around at the various patrons as the entered and exited through the gates, frankly wondering how to get inside to satisfy his curiosity. He stood there staring at the entrances and began to think.