In the old town, the streets of Talossa were clad in marble. Not the finest marble now--not for a long time. It was pitted, and blackened, and covered in graffiti. But still marble. The morning mists put a strange sheen to it, when the light struck it, that made it seem strange and dead.
Grunewald shook his head. He was being foolish, but then, he'd been foolish in this manner quite a bit recently. Somehow, it was hard these days to move about Talossa and not feel the best days had passed--passed before he was even born, leaving men like him to live in a withered, battered shell, dreaming of a glory they knew only in stories.
It was depressing, but you went on. It was all you could do.
Ulrich and Morrell were waiting for him at the corner. "So... what's Nathan told you about the Erl?" asked Ulrich.
"Not much," said Grunewald. "He apparently keeps to himself. And Nathan..."
"Birds of a feather," said Morrell with a snort.
Grunewald nodded. "Aye."
"Well, keep asking," said Ulrich. "The Lamplighters do not need this matter to become more of an embarassment. It's bad enough as it is."
"I know that," said Grunewald eyes flashing with resentment.
"Did we suggest you didn't?" said Morrell. "This is a friendly reminder. We are all one fellowship here. One brotherhood, with one purpose."
"And serving one city," added Ulrich.
Grunewald nodded. He didn't like being a spy for his fellows in this matter, but that's what being a Lamplighter meant. You went on. It was all you could do.