[@Ariamis]

As events continue to unfold in an endless cycle of questing and capitalism all around her, a lone, quiet figure walks the streets of Oars Rest without a stop. The pack on her back seemed quite large for her small figure, and with her hood up and cloak on it was clear to see that she must be overheating terrible. And yet nobody approached her. Where she walked, the crowd parted subtly around her, as if an invisible pressure followed wherever she went. All the while, inaudible over the hustle and bustle of city, she was seemingly muttering beneath her breath.

And something was muttering back to her.

[color=black][i]"...should be...somewhere near..."[/i][/color]

Em gazes around the street from beneath her hood, a few beads of sweat briefly visible on her cheek as she stares out at the others crowded down the way. She can feel it. A pulling, clammy sensation from directly ahead. A faint smell, mixing with the smells of the ocean, but clearly alien to this environment, and this world.

Straight ahead. For an instant, her gaze holds on the approximation of a face, belonging to a similarly cloaked figure standing among a crowd of adventurers. When she speaks, it is in a low, but clear tone, directed at the figure despite the distance and clamour of the street between them. Nonetheless, she knows that it will hear her. They always do.

[color=DCDCDC][i]"Like attracts like..."[/i][/color] She smiles underneath her hood, [color=DCDCDC]"Hello, Dark One."[/color] Not waiting for a response, she walks to the entrance of a nearby ally where she would sits down and revel momentarily in the cool of the shaded wall to her back. There, she was close enough to hear the words of the figure and their companions, if she focused, but far enough that she wouldn't stand out among them. That was good. The creature had received her message, and she knew the others were unlikely to have heard anything, if they recognized her voice as words at all.

This was fine, for now.

She wasn't in a hurry. There was plenty of time left until nightfall. So for now, the little Necromancer waits, nestling her evil spirit against her cheek, listening to its whispers. Even here, in the light of day, it had oh so much to teach her, to tell her.

To warn her about.