Father Gregory trudged downstairs. He hadn't slept well in the strange bed, but he had finally gotten to sleep and the bells from the nearby cathedral woke him up only when they tolled nine in the morning. It was a little bit after that now, and he was hungry. He hoped that the common room was still serving breakfast this late.
He needn't have worried -- it was a big inn in a big city. The proprietor, whom he'd spoken with yesterday afternoon, was behind the bar.
"Good morning, Jochim," the priest said, brushing his bushy black hair back from its forehead, where some stray locks constantly descended to interfere with his vision, getting in his wideset blue eyes. Maybe he ought to get it cut shorter. Unconsciously, one hand swept any wrinkles (there were none) from the front of his golden-colored velvet robes -- not what he wore for travelling, but the most sttrenuous thing he expected to do today was to spend some time in the library. At least, the most strenuous thing he would be doing with his robes on.
Jochim disappeared briefly into the kitchens after he'd taken Greg's breakfast order, and returned with a mug of cold apple cider. "You turned in early last night," the innkeeper informed the priest. "Someone asked about your poster on the wall. A pretty girl, too. She hasn't come down yet this morning."
Father Greg smiled to himself. Sophiara had proimised that there would be a suitable woman for him here; once again, the goddess had answered his prayers.
"Excellent," he told Jochim. "When she comes down, please let me know. If I've finished breakfast by that time, just send her up to my room. I still have a lot of reading to do."
He needn't have worried -- it was a big inn in a big city. The proprietor, whom he'd spoken with yesterday afternoon, was behind the bar.
"Good morning, Jochim," the priest said, brushing his bushy black hair back from its forehead, where some stray locks constantly descended to interfere with his vision, getting in his wideset blue eyes. Maybe he ought to get it cut shorter. Unconsciously, one hand swept any wrinkles (there were none) from the front of his golden-colored velvet robes -- not what he wore for travelling, but the most sttrenuous thing he expected to do today was to spend some time in the library. At least, the most strenuous thing he would be doing with his robes on.
Jochim disappeared briefly into the kitchens after he'd taken Greg's breakfast order, and returned with a mug of cold apple cider. "You turned in early last night," the innkeeper informed the priest. "Someone asked about your poster on the wall. A pretty girl, too. She hasn't come down yet this morning."
Father Greg smiled to himself. Sophiara had proimised that there would be a suitable woman for him here; once again, the goddess had answered his prayers.
"Excellent," he told Jochim. "When she comes down, please let me know. If I've finished breakfast by that time, just send her up to my room. I still have a lot of reading to do."
