Lily Troxler
There is a tiny alcove in the back wall of the Magic Quarter of Undercity.
For some reason, the rats and giant maggots avoid the place.
The space is clean, brushed free of the ancient dust and grime that encrusts all but the most well-trod paths of the necropolis.
There is nothing here--no ashes or smoldering coals, no bedroll, no discarded trash. No furniture.
There is nothing save for a vase, cradling a carefully tended bouquet of white roses.
