“I am sorry,” said Ostrid, “but the only thing here for you are the plans your party requested. Raylana is not here; I am afraid that she has misled you into believing that you were…” she blushed slightly, looking down at the ground, “…here for some other purpose. That is not the case.”
Almandar had, of course, been surprised, on opening the door to Raylana’s home to discover the dwarven woman there, rather than the merchant. Her presence alone made it unlikely that anything interesting would occur, and now she had confirmed that Raylana was not here at all, and was not going to be.
“So what has happened?” he asked, still unsure of how events were unfolding.
“You should come in,” she said, instead of replying, and still having some difficulty looking him in the face. This was clearly something she felt uncomfortable discussing, but at least she looked embarrassed, rather than deceitful. “The plans you requested are in here,” she added.
“I thought you were giving them to Dolrim. Didn’t your family insist on it?”
She nodded, her shoulders slumped, but said nothing further until they had reached the main room of the house. It was a wide open space, with a balcony above, with a divan, and numerous cushions and tables. Ostrid headed for a dresser on one side, where a carved wooden box was sitting. She picked it up gingerly, holding it close to her chest.
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