Category: buttons

Tyleril wandered the Bazaar with a direwolf following him. Atop the direwolf was a chubby green proto whelp and a young elven child with a deep seated scowl. He seems to be searching for something or someone as he walks up and down the shops, checking the corners and around the trees. The proto whelp gurgles, sitting carefully on the direwolf’s saddle in front of the elven child, The child is silent, fel-green eyes sharp as he looks around.

Tyleril goes down the walk of elders with the direwolf  following closely.  Atop the direwolf was a chubby green proto whelp and a young elven child with a deep seated scowl. He seems to be searching for something or someone as he walks up and down the street. “Cat!” the child calls out as he sees red hair- but no. The child scowls at the mage. 

Atop the direwolf was a chubby green proto whelp and a young elven child with a deep seated scowl. He seems to be searching for something or someone as they peer through store windows and look through the crowd. Tyleril’s frown grows deeper and the whelp lets out a soft whine.

Murder Row was the only place Tyleril searched alone. With the Priest’s halo he was easily spotted, a beacon of Light as he searched up and down the row, heedless of who was there or what they did. No prayers  or smiles were offered. His lips thin and the row is given one last search before he reluctantly leaves.

When they reach the Court of the Sun Buttons let out a unhappy gurgle, having grown tired of searching and finding nothing.  The elven child scowls as much as he had from the beginning while the direwolf follows Tyleril. Whatever the Priest searched for he was failing to find it. He begins to pray softly beneath his breath as they leave the Court of the Sun with nothing to show.

Farstrider’s Square was almost like a home for Tyleril and still he searched. Between shops, in the allys, asked the other merchants that knew him well. Catriah Phoenixhearth had not returned to stay at the forges, it seemed, and he had grown deeply worried for her. The elven child squints at unfamiliar shadows and faces. Buttons tries to be strong but one fat tear rolls down the whelp’s face.

A letter is delivered and he’s seen lingering, speaking quietly to another Blood Knight before leaving. The mood of Tyleril’s small adventuring party is somber.