I stand at the foot of the Mansion's entrance, at the very edge of the bursting crowd and on a large, raised platform hastily, but finely put together for me.
Looking over the people, they all have a single thing in common. They're tired.
Dead tired. About to fall into a coma tired, and that's the very reason I'm standing here tonight as the sun begins to set.
So little has actually happened on my fourth day away from Aste but the day breezed past me just as fast as any other. Well, perhaps not any other. Last night was particularly long and torturous.
The people grumble, cough, cry and spit even with my presence clear as day to them, Alric doesn't seem disturbed by this and I suppose after seeing the same horror of sickness every day for a year plus, one might become desentisized to the mess of it all.