“I’m just a messenger,” Aori mumbles, gesturing to his sack of post. “Ah, yes, I see that now,” the man says, eyeing the bag. “Say, anything in there for the Duke?” A cool breeze makes Aori ears twitch, which the man seems to take as a tell. “I hear he has some important information coming this way...” The man finishes. Aori shakes his head, “No, sorry. I’m no Noble carrier.” He takes a step, but the man cuts in front of him. “Perhaps I can just take a quick look,” the man says. He adjusts his cuffs, flashing a small dagger under his sleeve. Aori says nothing, steps to the side, and continues forward. “Hey,” the man shouts, putting his hand on Aori’s shoulder, “where do you think you’re-“ Before he can finish the sentence, Aori grabs the man’s arm and, using some martial arts he had picked up by observing the Tathvir’s in Tahu’lareh, flips the man and throws him on his back. Locals have taken notice, and start whispering amongst themselves. A guard stationed nearby intervenes as the man gets to his feet. “Is there a problem here?” The guard says in a booming voice. The man dusts his jacket. “No,” he croaks, turning, and leaving. The guard looks to Aori, who thanks him before making his way to his destination.
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