Melina didn’t know much about the sort of things that happened in places like Obscuria. She was not naïve, of course, and as soon as the whole road emptied itself of all the people that were walking it even five seconds ago, she knew that something strange – possibly dangerous – was about to happen. Something very dangerous. However, she didn’t know what was going to happen, what to expect, having never stepped into places where the scum gathered like this city was. In fact, her only knowledge of places like this came from literature she consumed in her teens, and which she deemed childish and utterly inaccurate until now. She was forced to reconsider that statement, because it seemed now, that those authors of fantasy pages and made-up stories knew more about the real world than she gave them credit for.
Had she known what this place really was, she would have argued against coming here. But it was too late now. Ishrin was looking towards the empty distance, where all bazaars were closed shut and the silhouette of a man could barely be seen through the smoke of the still smoldering incense sticks. He was, she could feel through their empathic connection, perfectly calm. There was a possibility, her mind told her, that he had been aware of the fat person walking slowly towards from the very beginning thanks to his magic vision, and he surely knew whether he could deal with him safely or not.
Whatever was the case, she was going to follow his lead. The silhouette approached, its features becoming more and more visible. A lab coat, white but stained with blood and rust. A long, scaled face with sharp teeth that glinted in the low light of the torches shrouded in smoke. Yellow glowing eyes. He was a crocodile-person, a subspecies of lizardkin she had never seen before. From him came a low growl while his bare clawed feet clanged against the concrete steps he was descending. When he reached the road, she could feel that his steps were heavy, and his bulging stomach swayed and bobbed with every step.
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