Post by ShadowCatJen on Oct 23, 2020 9:50:52 GMT -5
During one of her usual morning walks about the city, escort city guardsman in tow, Mynian sees one of the notices.
"Huh! Ice sculptor, eh? Nay seen anythin' o' tha sort since tha one party in tha Silver Marches years ago," then adding with a murmur, "Though me doubts Miss Lavina wants ta make a swan sculpture fer whot she's got in mind."
"Ice sculptin ain't anythin' like stone sculptin' issit?" She cast a glance back at the guard who could only offer a non-committal shrug. The corner of her lip turned down at the lack of help and she looked at the notice again. "Guess tha' leaves any o' tha city stonemasons out."
Getting out one of her smaller journals she jots down a quick note and just as quickly tucks it away again. Continuing her walk, the guard taking fast steps to keep well in range of her, she utters one more time, "Will it be too little, too late though? Tha's tha question."
As if answering, a colder breeze swept by and Mynian pulled her cloak tighter around her. This caused her partially displeased look to form into a full frown.
"Roit. Ifn tha next council meet donna cover it, then me takes it ta tha door o' tha field lords direct. This city nay got time ta wait fer trade deals 'r more givin' away o' resources jus' ta keep fed."
With that she continued on her way back to the Great Hall.