An obsidian bird, perhaps much larger than most normal size crows and ravens, had medium size rectangular box within its talons. It swooped down towards the woman, flapping its wings and dropped it on Riven’s arms. Inside laid a long winter green cape made with silk and velvet, pure white fur lined around the neck with a silver clasp to hold it together, a scarf to match, and a brand new dagger with a customized handmade dragon design cover. An attached note said, “Hmph. Merry Christmas. - T”
HOLIDAY ASKS \ STILL ACCEPTING.
Riven doesn’t flinch when the bird makes its noisy entrance. Instead, she stays steadfast to her task, reading through a new ordinance the Drekan region wished to pass, taking break only when the box covers up her papers.
Interesting.
A cocked brow as she lifts her head.
“ Your master did not teach you how to deliver well, did he? “
The bird caws before leaving in a flurry of wings. Riven’s lips twitch into faint smirk before she glances back down at the new package before her, hand running over the top of it before she tears it open.
As described, she finds herself in possession of a new cape and a dagger, one that would go well with her already sizable collection. The dagger is set down gently on her study, while she runs her hand over the cape several times in admiration of the material.
How typical.
The note remain inside the box. Riven would save it, but she’d no need to read it — knowing the assassin, she doubts that he’d say much in the way of niceties. Then again, what need had she for words when the labor of love lay in her hands instead?
