You found her in an alley. You thought this was a sleeping child. By the time you’d lifted her body, you realized the halfling was a woman. And she was dead. You look at her in the light spilling in from the road: a thin, pinched face, ashy skin, brown eyes dark and lifeless in the dim illumination. Her corpse is clothed in tattered grays and washed-out blacks. She has small packets of silvery cloth--they smell faintly of incense--woven into her braids alongside small keys of white stone and... coins. This close, you can see a spot of decay at the corner of her mouth. How long has she been dead?
You carry her like a bundle of clothes into a smaller, darker alcove. You set down her lifeless body and draw your knife. You have your blade set at the root of one braid when the halfling blinks her eyes.
“Excuse you?” she says in a rough, low voice. You stab yourself in surprise.
You carry her like a bundle of clothes into a smaller, darker alcove. You set down her lifeless body and draw your knife. You have your blade set at the root of one braid when the halfling blinks her eyes.
“Excuse you?” she says in a rough, low voice. You stab yourself in surprise.
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