Stale perfume

The room at the inn was by any and all means more lush than the previous insula. The girl had fidgeted with the small card tucked in her sash and had not paid attention to the name of the establishment. She caught sight only of the thick carpets along the corridors at the base of the stairwells. Keeping count of her steps she numbered them as her feet flew along the risers to keep up with Shorl and Dolht.
Meals this eve would be taken in the room and the girl served them both well. She was given a mat in the far corner rather than spare the expense of coin to have her kenneled. At some point after retiring she overheard a heated argument among them though the baritone of both men left the topic a bit vague, though the jist of it was something about glana perhaps having more worth . It was only the oddly generous invitation of Shorl to find some wine and wenches that ended the dispute.
When the men left, exquise rose long enough to extinguish the lights and return to her mat. She had no idea the prophetic nature of her actions. Only one of the men returned that night. Shorl's pouch had a fullness to it that it did not have when he left though he reeked once more of paga, stale kajira perfume and something latently lingering beneath it all ... a whiff of acrid copper. She feigned sleep until she was assured of the snores coming from the remaining guardsman.