[b][center][h3][color=orange] Lein [/color][/h3][/center][/b]
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[b][color=orange]Location:[/color][/b] Aimlenn Streets
[b][color=orange]Interactions:[/color][/b] [@The Otter]
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	[color=orange]"No scam. I know when to fold and when to cut. I'm on the home stretch, anyway."[/color] Fionn was too close. It was a throwaway comment by the hell-born hag that probably tipped him off. was too tired to spin another elaborate yarn about his past. It would be easy enough to cut loose and disappear, adopt a new name and sing a different tune as he had always done, but not yet. Not while Hadrianus was circling above his head, more than willing to uproot everything in Aimlenn to drag him back down. Lein just had to keep mum about it. Just for a couple more weeks to put everything in place.

	As they came across a stream of farmers busily trafficking out into the fields, Lein abruptly dove into the crowd, leaving Fionn still grasping the tunic sleeve. With a swift and decisive tug, the seams of the tunic ripped off and left Fionn grasping the empty sleeve. Lein reappeared some paces away from the crowd and waving his newly freed prosthetic arm. [color=orange]"Looks like this will be where we'll be parting ways, [i]Herr Fionn[/i],"[/color] Lein said, mockingly adopting the suave affectations of Lady Cteline with a curtsy. [color=orange]"Don't be pulling your hair out digging places that don't need digging. Promise I'll behave - why, I'll even try sleeping on those terrible castle mattresses, as thanks for your courtesy today."[/color]