Sacripant stared at the Goblin at the airship station. "So... no messages for me?"
She glanced at him with such startling suspicion that he had to wonder what was going. "No. Not at all. Not for some time." She leaned forward. "Don't expect any in the future, either. At least, not from the Emporium."
Sacripant raised an eyebrow. "So... I might get one... not from the Emporium?"
"I didn't say that!" she snapped. "Don't ask any more questions! I'm not allowed to answer them!"
"Not any?" asked Sacripant.
She fidgeted and turned away. "Have to tend the shop! Spice exports! They're vitally important! Vitally!"
Sacripant sighed. "Right. Right." He began to walk out the station, and then paused. "Will they be sending any more...?"
"No questions!" she yelled, rushing outside to board the airship.
Sacripant headed outside and glanced at the tall building, trying to figure out what it had been before it had been the Emporium had purchased it to keep their airships near when they were in the city. Whatever it was, it was ungodly tall. But then, so were all the buildings near it, especially the Great Tower. He wondered what it was about Talossa that made its inhabitants want to make everyone there feel small, and then gave up with a shrug. It wasn't something unique to Milesians. There were places in the Lands of Night like that, after all.
"Sausage, sir?" asked a man, pushing a cart with a brazier through the street.
Sacripant eyed the greasy things suspciously. "What's in them?"
The man stared at him as if he'd asked him to name an obscure figure from history. "Meat?" he at last managed.
"I think I'll pass," said Sacripant, moving on.