Tam waited a few moments before following; the von Hammerwhirl girl cut enough of a figure with her staff that he would have no problem seeing her amongst the ebb and flow of the city. Leaving behind the sickly sweet smell of charred flesh and the malaise that permeated the slave market, Tam breathed deeply. His feet fell with feline grace and the quiet confidence of a man who knows many things. Eyes slicked across him like foul oil as he left. 

The streets were wide plains after the oppressive atmosphere of the slave market. He had a choice still, he realised; he could not concern himself with a dead man’s sister, he had no need of a slave. Yet, it was wrong, like caging an exotic bird and plucking it, just so the world would never know what it once was. Nobles were not slaves. They never could be. 

Dust kicked up as Tam began walking quicker, his steps harder, like the breaking of waves against stone now, powerful and determined. He had to hope this Hammerwhirl had enough threads of sanity together that she’d know a good deal when he reached her. He was almost upon the girl, about the call out. 

Then Tam became aware of the crowd, or lack of; wisps of people where once there were throngs. He became aware that he was in the open. He became aware of the prowling movements of men in the periphery of shadows. Like a fox that had chased a rabbit out onto a frozen lake, Tam realised his folly too late.

The ambush was sprung.