[Lawrince Ournel]

Lawrince Ournel - a chunky man of middle stature - sat on his bed and
appreciated the sanctuary of his room at the Dragon's Inn. In his current
opinion booking this room was the only thing that Netit Vanit had done
right - except maybe getting killed. No. Lawrince decided, his secretary
hadn't even done _that_ right; if he had been poisoned in Bleckner few
would have blinked an eye, and his boss would have been able to sit
comfortably in his own house - not in a strange and possibly hostile town.

The King's envoy looked over at his cooling bowl of stew and mug of cider,
and finally pulled the tray closer. He had to admit the food was both
tasty and filling, and after a couple of mouthfulls he found his appetite
returning. As he ate he considered his next plan of action. So far he had
questioned the fisherman who had pulled the body out, and though the old
man had mostly fixated on the body's ravished face he had given enough of
a description of the clothing that Lawrince guessed it was his missing
secretary.

Since then his investigations - if one could give them so formal a name -
had entailed asking around for his friend; the body's face had been so
ruined that Lawrince doubted that many would connect his description with
that of the murdered man. Particularly not in a city with a festival going
on.

With the last scrape of the bowl the envoy had to admit he no longer could
put off his next activity - which was to go out at night. Montfort had a
wild reputation and he feared continuing his search after dark - he was no
fighter and not a man used to skullduggery.

He again considered presenting his problem to the town guard, or the Tower
Guard as the locals called them, but he hadn't survived through two kings
by being trusting. Even if the townsfolk declared the Guard to be honest,
upright, souls. ~And its not as if you're going to be wandering the
allys,~ he reminded himself, ~There are many vendors still open since the
festival is going on. And a stop at the Golden Griffin won't hurt. Who
knows where Nevit got to his one evening in town.~

The only thing he did know was that Nevit had been seen at the Dragons Inn
for part of the evening, but no one could swear if he had been with any
companions. Though one of the waitresses did mention he had brought a few
treats for a cat. Now that Lawrince had found odd, but she had explained
that it was a pet of one of the local mages and occasionally seen at the
Inn. A pretty white creature, she had said, and well-mannered too.

A familiar perhaps? Well it was definitely a clue, but he wasn't sure how
to approach the mage with the question - mages tended to be dangerous
beasts unto themselves. And while Lawrince had never abided the extremes
(though he had kept his head low and his mouth shut) of the Church he had
never been fond or trusting of mages. Most of the ones he had met had
never seemed quite sane, and always with their own agendas. Which might
explain Nevit's dealing with one.

However, until he had figured out the proper approach he still needed to
go ask more questions. And with this in mind the envoy got up and went
over to the mirror. He made sure his thinning blond hair was brushed, and
his still thick mustache was combed, and that his traveling clothes were
straigthened. He also made sure to wash his hands and to make sure there
was nothing beneath his fingernails.

Then, and only then, was he ready to go out.