There is a saying…
Cacher un couteau dans un sourire.
A dear friend and old partner of mine once said that too me. A blade, guarded closely by a smile, so that those who would do you harm won’t see what’s coming. But then, she also said…
Méfiez-vous de ceux qui cherchent votre amitié.
I agree, those who wish to be friendly may not always be your friend. I shouldn’t be so care free with this act I undertake. There are those who have written tales in penny dreadful novels, hero worshiping brigands and bandits. And because of that, there are those who wished to be close to them who would take up arms against an oppressive force.
I made my way through the Wayrest, mostly as a way to find a hideaway to repair an injury to my arm. It was easy enough, there were two pretty ladies off in a corner together where most would go and have a quiet meal and discussion. Three men in the bar. On the second floor, there were two Asura engaged in an intimate act. Nothing which would be considered scandalous at all, mind you. Closer to scandalous, the master of the Wayrest, Daegal himself was entertaining a young lady. Still, none of my concern. What people do behind closed… or slightly ajar doors… is not my business.
Three others were on the third floor, tending to something very medical themselves. Again, not my concern. I merely shut the door to an empty room. I bandaged my arm, most likely left a wee bit of blood on the floor, possibly some odds and ends from the patch job as well.
I left as quietly as I could, but did notice a small, dark coloured and clothed Sylvari who came up to the bar (once I had returned to the main floor, of course). The master of the Wayrest had also returned tot he bar, now having finished entertaining his lady friend.
I am aware of particular individual who work in this place, and perhaps at some point I will have to make a midnight visit. Feter out friend from foe, so to speak.