I knew before the conversation even began, that despite my usual single-minded determination, I wasn’t going to get my own way. I was going to have to follow someone else’s lead.
“You’re absolutely sure Zurra has vanished?” I asked, for the third time. We were sitting in the same bar in Lion’s Arch in which I had previously been persuaded by Erin to head for the Wildlands. Doing so had advanced my knowledge of Zurra’s actions and allowed me to thwart her again – I didn’t think this new plan was going to do the same.
Spark pushed the communique across the table to me, using ale mugs to hold down its curling edges. “There’s no intel on her. See for yourself.”
The charr wouldn’t reveal where she was getting her information from – if she was Order of Whispers, she hid it well – but the facts seemed conclusive. There had been only one sighting of Zurra in the last week: fleeing for the eastern hills of Brisban Wildlands, a tattered band of rather scorched-looking Inquest in her wake. Since then, she seemed to have completely disappeared.
“Go back to the Wildlands if you want,” Spark said, “but we’re moving on.”