Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer
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You could say what you wanted about the little furball, but Nippy knew how to throw a party. Cordrain Tor pondered this thought as dropped for the carriage, his booted feet crunching through the crust of still accumulating snow. The night was picturesque, really. There was a fine, light snow sifting down from the clouds, muting the shapes of the trees and rocks along the road and leaving the world mantled in a crystalline white innocence.
It was all a lie, of course. The rocks and roots were still there, still lurking below the snow to trip the unwary, to turn an ankle. It was, the dwarf thought, a fitting comparison to the company that the little moglin kept. Cordrain knew that Nippy had a finger in many pies, not just in the city, but in the areas surrounding it as well. Such business invited alliances with… shady characters and less than reputable individuals. The shopkeeper himself had dealt with Nippy and his agents in the past. The moglin and the dwarf had… an understanding.
The skydweller dwarf pondered that as he was admitted into the moglin’s lavish abode. Nodding absently to the butler opening the door, Cordrain stepped inside, stomping snow from his boots and unwrapping the scarf wound about his face and neck to protect it from the cold. The weather, he had been told, was going to be turning for the worse towards the middle of the night. Supposedly, the wind was going to pick up, and the snow was going to start coming down more thickly. They would, it appeared likely, be stuck here overnight, if not for a day or two afterwards, waiting for the roads to clear enough to allow passage back into the city proper. That was fine with Cordrain though. The furball could be insufferable at times, but he kept quite the table, and his expansive home had all the comforts one could desire.
Reminding himself that it cost him nothing to be polite, Cordrain turned his heavy cloak over to a waiting servant, and slipped into light and sound swirling through Nippy’s palatial estate. The dwarf stroked a hand through the intricate plaits and braids of his luxuriant beard. Nippy’s invitation had indicated that he wished to speak to the shopkeeper on a matter of some importance. Cordrain had an inkling of what that might be, but had no desire to ruin his potential enjoyment of the night just yet. Enjoying the pleasant warmth of the house after his cold tramp from the carriage, the dwarf made his way towards the refreshment tables. The moglin could wait, it would be good for him.
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