He couldn't see his target through the crowd, but it didn't matter for the moment. He was here to bring her in. After weeks of studying her from the shadows while finishing other business, he was finally ready to meet with the "Storyteller."

Information on her was surprisingly little. A name, it varied by what language she was speaking but it always comprised two words. The first one always meant winter and the second always meant light. The stories she told; some were about historical events as taught in the schools, though often from a prospective that was not quite in line with what He taught.

Then there were the other stories; ones about something called "Shadow War", about the Demons of Wind and Water, about the folk of lightning, and other mythical creatures. Only how mythical were the Demons. They had found a young one living in secret among the people of Arrah, and a mature one had recently joined them as one of the Master's many women.

If this female knew more about the Demons, she would be invaluable to him. Kovus wanted both Demons working for him; however, the younger Demon was skittish, preferring to work alone. If they wanted to have her working for them they needed to understand them better, know what drove them to do the things they did.

He leaned back and just listened to the female, her voice pleasing, soothing. He would enjoy breaking her to his will then have her read him the reports once he taught her how to read the special scripts that were used for the blind. For blind she was, according to all reports.

The story ended and he held back a snort, how foolish the "Demons" in the story were. They didn't seem to be as fearsome as the female he was used to working with. Then again, he had missed much of the story. Still if the Shadow was there, they could have yielded to it and saved their lives.

The crowd around the woman scattered to various tasks and the owner of the inn brought the woman a plate of what seemed to be breads, fruits, and cheeses. No meat, strange, but then again, some people did prefer not to eat animals. Didn't make sense to him, but then again not everyone understood that the universe was built on pain, strength, and power.

He moved quietly towards the table now that the current story was over and looked over the storyteller. Her skin, except for the scars and wrinkles of age, was nearly flawless. Interesting, there was no report on how old she really was, though the best guesses put her at very close to the end of her life. She looked four to five times his own apparent age.

Her hands moved gracefully once they knew where the food was, never missing, even though she obviously could not see what was in front of her. He cleared his throat carefully, "Do you mind if I join you?" Manners would not harm anything. It would be interesting to see how she reacted...