as datya limps away from the city, she is planning. she has enough coin in her purse to buy a change of clothes, weapons, armour, and several months of food and lodging. money is no object, but visibility is. if a bloodstained aasimar woman is found within the domain of lasok, her murderer would not face justice. therefore: she keeps her head low and accepts no offers of help. as she is washing her bandages in a stream, she looks at them and thinks: three days ago, i was nearly nobility.
nearly a tenday passes before she makes it to gidan. after a bath and a rest, she dons the clothing and armour of a common mercenary woman and cuts her hair to shoulder-length. no one looks twice when she buys a mace and sickle and daggers. at her room, datya takes a breath before whispering some of the words that had come to her as she lay on the road dying. a bolt of lightning shoots from her hand and just misses the bed. she feels- not quite sick, but light-headed. different. she practices her magic into the night. when she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window, she can no longer recognize datya lud gozlan, councillor of lasok. a new creature stares back at her.