As the multi-winged woman approached, Tyro was struck for a moment. He knew her? Then she said her name. That was it.<br/><br/>“Ah, always a pleasure to see a Sheval, Ariadne.” He gave a courteous bow and took her proffered hand for a lightly playful kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft given the sandpaper texture of the rest of his body. As surprising as it may have seemed, Tyro’s family took an inordinate amount of pride in those who had taken upon themselves the burden of usurious debt and succeeded.<br/><br/>It afforded them a certain social connection. The family way was to be unfailing polite and respectful, right up and until that point where promises were compromised. As Tyro recalled his mother had boasted of how wise the Sheval family had been in utilizing their services versus that of their competitors.<br/><br/>He let her hand fall from his own as he turned his gaze back to the remainders. “This is wrong. I’m going to find out what’s happening: you can feel free to join me or stay.” With the assumption that the others would follow him Tyro began to stride certainly from the hall where they were supposed to have met the technopriest and instead towards…<br/><br/>There was a scent in the air. It smelled like hysteria, panic, ruffled feathers. For some reason the scent was sweet. “I think something’s wrong. A lot of people might be in trouble or… I don’t know.”