Twin Spear; Twin Sword

XII

The neighborhood listed on the poster was indeed 'upper,' with many of the homes here nothing short of mansions or manors, each with their own gardens, walls, and carriages sitting patiently in the paved paths before the homes.

Duna walked along the street as though she hadn't a care in the world, nodding politely to bewildered passerby dressed in their very best. Many women clutched their parasols or the gentlemen they walked with as she passed, upset and off put at Duna's display of skin, tattoos, and bright colors. But as it was, she had an aura about her that wasn't easily challenged even by Neverwinter's rich.

The Chultan peered about casually, looking for anything that may seem out of place, but it was clear to her that this development was little more than posh gardens and more house space than folks knew what to do with. As she rounded the last corner of the smoothly paved roads, she sighed to herself, adjusting her bag with defeat and beginning to head from the neighborhood.

Duna had just stepped out to the sidewalk of the main road when a small squawk cut across her ears, then another.

A chirp like the sound of cleaning glass... could that be..?

She looked around, backstepping a few paces and slipping into the gardens of the closest estate, honing in on the sound. Sure enough, the chattering squawks grew faintly louder as she approached the walls of the great building, seeming to escape from an open third storey window.

Checking her surroundings again, Duna chucked her spear upwards, blinking to existence right at the windows edge. Gasping, she snatched the windowsill with her left hand, tossing the spear through the open window and blinking inside as it clattered to the floor.

Catching her breath, she glanced about the room, taking it in. It was fairly small, but the floor crunched underfoot, covered in a layer of hulled seeds and nuts; sure enough, a bright white cockatoo peered at her from within a massive cage at the room's center.

Duna snatched up the weapon and tucked herself into the corner closet, waiting as still as she could for a few minutes to pass. When it seemed no one had heard the clamor of her spear, she stepped back out with a sigh. She turned back to the closet, yanking a handful of nuts and seeds from a satchel and stepping in front of the cage.

The cockatoo seemed to eye her suspiciously as she opened the gate, but Duna knew from its clipped wings that it wouldn't be able to fly off. It nervously chirped and squawked at her as she held the seeds out, but after a little while, it relaxed. As she went to fetch more food for it, the large bird fluttered from the cage and hopped along behind her.

With a confident grin, Duna gently placed the bird on her arm, noting its expertly trimmed talons- and the fact it hadn't nipped at her. Exiting the room, Duna continued to feed the bird, stepping carefully down the spiral staircase into the grand main hall. The house was wonderfully decorated, adorned with the paintings of a middle-aged gentleman, and on his shoulder in each one, was the cockatoo.

Duna chose a large, luxurious armchair and sat herself in the living room, crossing her legs and waiting patiently for the owner of the home to return. As hours went by, and the sun began to fall, Duna grew restless, but finally, her waiting came to a close as she heard a key turn in the lock of the front doors.

She took a deep breath, relaxing her face and steeling her nerves.

The man she'd seen painted so many times stepped into the main hall, visible through the archway of the living room. His gray dress wear was well worn but neatly pressed, noting a man of habit but also rigor. He seemed exhausted, but shook himself and looked up the stairs as though excited. He cleared his throat and smiled.