Dead men walking

Loren would have been shown through the guildhall to the set of stairs which led up onto the mezzanine and the doors beyond; the guildmaster's living quarters. The Monster Hunter's Guild itself was fairly busy at that time, and whilst Ronin should have been downstairs and among them, it was an increasingly rare circumstance. The ex-captain had been - as was the new norm for him - asleep in bed, fighting off an exhaustion that would not leave him be no matter how hard he had tried. He hadn't visited Loren, no. Why? He hadn't known, quite simply; hadn't read the notice, hadn't been around anyone who had known the librarian to guess at his return, hadn't done much other than brood and plan and plot over what the fuck he was supposed to do with the dwindling amount of time left before him. Remi was out - a bonus. He was out with Aoife - even bigger bonus, though his daughter was one of the few things that could cool Ronin's temper these days, when it was fired. Only time would tell whether or not the child would have been good to have on hand for this meeting. At first there was no answer as Loren knocked; but when, finally, the hunter within stirred enough to make out the words, a dark, gruff chuckle could be heard. "Oh, yeah?" he called back. "Why don't you pull the other one." Shuffling footsteps and the door clicked open at last, revealing a dishevelled Ronin, barefoot and shirtless, his left forearm still bandages, dark rings beneath his eyes betraying his exhaustion. Exhaustion and confusion, as he examined the man outside. It looked like Loren, if Loren had a bedraggled twin that wasn't Neron. "Oh," he said. Because there was nothing else to say, right then. RONIN Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up on you.