Thoraniel Nee-Theranaziel Tormodsdóttir looked in on the town from the edges of the trees. She did not like towns. Too many people. Not enough cover for her. But she had no choice. She had to go in. She unrolled her cloak, throwing it over her small pack, raising the deep hood over her head, drawing the cloak close. The moment she passed through the town gate, a simple construct of wooden planks and beams, it started to rain. That helped her cover, was all she thought about it. Rain had never harmed anyone. Never would.

She kept her face hidden, searching for the inn she had been told to come to. She didn't like inns. They reminded her too much of home. She did not like those thoughts. She hated home. The gallows waiting for her back home fueled that hate. Kept it fresh. When she came to a corner, she saw that there was a message of some sort posted on the wall. "Lovely..." she murmured. "A wanted poster." Looking about, she saw that she was alone right then and there. She rapidly drew her dagger, cut the hide down, then pulled out the iron nails that had held it in, leaving no trace. She rolled the hide up, then stuffed it into her pack. It would not do for anyone to recognize her.

After some five minutes more search, she found the inn, a seedy place with a sign of worn wood, painted with a strange, gray blot. She couldn't read the text below it, but it had to be right. Only reason she'd recognized the wanted poster is that another had shown one to her before, and she recognized the sketch of her face in the middle. That same guy, a fellow brigand, had also taught her to read her own name. Thoraniel wasn't sure she wanted to know how to read more than that.

Keeping her hood up, she entered the inn, searching for Thaddeus, eventually seeing him sitting at a table with another she did not recognize. She did not like strangers. Too risky. Might give her up. Nonetheless, she had to. There was no need to like it, though.