The events of the 1st of Limestone, 1066
Glacies had his modest things packed into a satchel, and he slung it over his shoulder, a heavy sense of melancholy gripping his heart. Pulling the wide brimmed miners cap down low over his eyes, Glacies took a dollop of glue and smeared it on his mustache. Looking into a warped piece of buffed bronze, he carefully applied the large, waxed-stiff donkey tail-hair mustache to the glue, wiggling it and holding it into place until it set. Of course, the black tail didn't match up exactly with his light brown beard, but with his cap, and his large mottled coat, he didn't expect that anyone would recognize him. Taking a last look around the room, he inhaled deeply and pushed put the door, quickly darting through the hallways and up the stairs.
This close to bed time, he saw very few in the hallways. The ones he met ignored him, and once his boots hit the courtyard, Glacies felt a little better, a little safer. Darting towards the Depot, he silently counted the remaining barrels to be moved downstairs, then pushed past it, towards the southern exit.
He stopped in his tracks, gawking. Stravitch was standing by the drawbridge, talking to Ex-Mayor Likot.
They both turned to look at him.
Likot was immobile, her green gaze impassive and terrible. Stravitch just looked annoyed. Scowling, the old goat pointed at Glacies, and said, "The hell are you doing out at this time of night?"
Freezing up, Glacies stammered some before saying, "I... am a mason! I ... do masonry. It's my shift? On your... project?"
"Oh," Stravitch's scowl stayed in place, "The hell are you doing out here, at this time of night? Get back to the construction site!"
Likot turned her gaze to Stravitch, her head cocked slightly to the side. Her voice came, hollow as always, and tinged with thinly disguised annoyance, "Captain. Perhaps you should ask to see this mason's credentials. Perhaps this isn't his shift. Maybe he works on some other project."
"No, he works on MY project. I have a lot of them, Glacies has it arranged."
"Yes, Captain. That's an excellent idea. Perhaps you should check with Glacies about this Mason. See he's properly reprimanded for being late."
"Too much work," Stravitch said, as Glacies lifted the brim of his hat to mop at his sweat soaked brow. "besides, look at him, he's TERRIFIED of me. Ha! Won't be late again, that one. Now go on, get!"
"You're... an excellent Captain of the Guard, Stravitch. Class act... it's obvious nothing gets past you, does it?"
Glacies darted past them, mumbling apologies. Standing out front on the road, he looked over his shoulder once before disappearing behind the wall, crunching the sand. Pulling a crude map out of his knapsack, Glacies traced a line with a finger, took a deep breath, and set out, for adventure.