Quickly stretching his limbs to warm his cold atrophied muscles, he leapt with avian grace to the heights of the trader's building. Talons gouged through layers of ice and snow before finding purchase in a beveled crease of the slate roof. Soundlessly he trudged across the expanse, tracking his quarry from the building heights. Stark watched with rapt, unblinking interest as Krogenar labored through newly formed snow drifts and entered the local tavern.
"Lambs to the slaughter", a knowing grin played across his raptor beak, "or rather, a certain little piggy just made it to market." His chilled breath clouded the hazy night as he whispered, "The best form of information, is misinformation, my porcine friend. We have well prepared our contingents here for your eventual arrival."
With barely restrained mirth, Stark waited for the performance to unfold, confident that his agents would liven up the Istishian's confidence of FLAME's failure here in Polaris. The uncountable and torturous span of time of living and preparing in cold suffering had paid off, FLAME plans were quickly coming to fruition.
His humor only increased all the more as his thoughts centered upon his comrades... especially those in New Thalos. "... and the curtain rises even now upon a new act being performed in your own backyard."
With a firey glint, he hastily leapt from the heights and made way to the chapel to prepare to receive the reports of his comrades. Stark had had a very busy, yet fulfilling day.
FLAMEs in Polaris (Part 5)
Stark stepped down from the fountain and smiled broadly as he handed out the remainder of his parchments to the anxious citizens. "Yes, Krogenar... I am well aware of your presence. Twould take more than a few seasonal bathings to shield your wretched smell, even in the depths of this frigid waste", he thought amusedly to himself. His hawkish eyes hadn't missed the Istishian's less than adequate attempts to lose himself in the crowd as he had continued his speech. Though well skilled in the arts of camouflage in the wild, Krogenar was well out of his element here in the city. The expected and long-awaited appearance of the enemy merely made things all the more interesting. "Indeed, the Istishians have placed their necks right in our noose, just as Lady Atandella foresaw they would" Stark congratulated to himself as he marked Krogenar's slinking retreat through half-lidded eyes.
Pocketing the fire ring, Stark graciously took his leave of the assemblage and made his way down the ice shrouded street to the depths of a frost-limned alleyway. From the depths of a 'borrowed' bag of holding he withdrew a flowing white cloak which blended seamlessly with the surrounding snow, even in the growing darkness of the fast encroaching night. Donning the garment, Stark drew the cowl low across his head and studied the wall before him with a smile. "Ah... the thrill of bagging the mark."
Pocketing the fire ring, Stark graciously took his leave of the assemblage and made his way down the ice shrouded street to the depths of a frost-limned alleyway. From the depths of a 'borrowed' bag of holding he withdrew a flowing white cloak which blended seamlessly with the surrounding snow, even in the growing darkness of the fast encroaching night. Donning the garment, Stark drew the cowl low across his head and studied the wall before him with a smile. "Ah... the thrill of bagging the mark."
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