Others he had worked alongside made retiring sound so good, and deep down he knew he was making the right decision, if not for himself; at least for Maximillion, the boy was competent and Grigori was confident that he had instilled his values into the boy… No. Maximillion was a young man now; fully capable. Grigori was sure he would do well, so why was this so… infuriating?
The coach rocked hard, bringing Grigori out of his reverie.
“My apologies, Master Crowe!” came the husky voice of the driver, a heavyset man Grigori estimated to be just a little younger than himself. “These roads can be awful this time of year, ‘fore they get an earth mage out here ta fix em!”
“It’s fine. How much further to Talonia?” Gregori replied curtly, his annoyance with his own emotions bleeding into his tone. He fingered the curtains of the coach, peeking outside himself but was unfamiliar with this area.
“Oh! Uhh…” the driver stumbled over his words, taken aback by Grigori’s shortness. “Just a bit further m’lord. I’d wager an hour if we continue at this pace.”
“Excellent,” Mr. Crowe replied, allowing the curtain to fall back into place. “...and do try to avoid too many more unnecessary bumps, will you?”
“Yes sir…”
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The sun was on well on it’s way towards the horizon by the time the coach made its way into Talonia, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as it made its way towards a set of distant mountaintops. The sole occupant and driver were far more happy to be among the throngs of city-dwellers once more than the horses drawing it, who balked a little at having to be careful of so many pedestrians. The carriage made its way ponderously through a few blocks into the city before coming to a rest aside one of the main streets of the city.
“We’re here, m’lord!” came the call of the carriage driver, likely used to waking his passengers after a day long trip.
“Very good.” replied Mr. Crowe, already combing through his hair and beard one last time before stepping out. There weren’t clients to impress this time around, but old habits died hard and doing a least that much served to take the edge off his unease. Satisfied that everything was once more in place, placed his monacle back unto his left eye, opened the door and dismounted into the early evening sun.
“Will you be staying long, sir?” the driver asked, readying to make his way back to wherever his company docked their carriages for the night. “I’ll likely stay a day or two before I’m ready to head out again.”
“I’ll…” Grigori started to reply out of habit, but the words froze in his mouth; once again he was reminded he had little in the way of a destination or plans. He frowned. IF he didnt find a way to occupy his time soon, he would drive himself crazy with this. After a brief pause, turned to the driver. “I’ll ask after you if I’m looking at heading out soon. What was your name again?”
“Uh, Colby, sir. Blue Moon Transport. We’ll take ya wherever ya need to go, safe and sound.” The driver replied, immediately going into what was likely his normal pitch, or at least what passed for one.
“Colby, with Blue Moon Transport. Got it.” replied Mr. Crowe, casually waving him off and turning to look towards the main street. It was a well kept, bustling road lined with stores from street corner to street corner. Lacrima-powered street lamps lined the blocks, already beginning to spark to life despite little need for them yet with the evening light still more than bright enough to see well. While it wasnt near where Grigori wished to be, his joints were stiff from the long ride and weather was fine; a good walk would do him well enough.
Mr. Crowe walked the thoroughfare, taking mental note of a few of the shops that caught his eye. A jewelry store whose window display looked particularly well crafted, a clothing store with particularly fine embroidery, an expensive looking resturant with a line of clientel out of the door, all might warrant a visit later. All the while Grigory took notice of the various stores, others took notice of him; his clothing was particularly fine, and his demeanor not of someone among the common rabble.
WC: 851