Negotiations
Bjorke straightened up the small room in the Guild Hall. With Norgoth gone so much, deep in his own reaction to the events of that fateful night, Bjorke spent less and less time at their hut.
She headed down to the main room, her bag packed and wearing the thin leather pants, white shirt and now red-stained boots. Not even Truitt could get the red dust color off. He was there, sweeping, but seemed to be raising dirt, rather than corralling it. Read the rest of this entry »
