Between the ever-expanding stacks of books to be categorized, ancient codices that fare worse in sunlight than vampires, and a somewhat stunted social life, librarians are used to keeping strange hours. This is doubly true for librarians who moonlight as zombie hunters. Thus, Mirielle fell asleep quickly, even as the sun began to rise. She arose in the early afternoon and, donning her cassock over her chain shirt, stepped out for a short while. Kelemvor had seen fit to bless her with additional powers this day, and it seemed right to buy what she needed to take advantage of them.
I shouldn't be out in the open like this. Not that I'm the best sneak-thief in the world, but I should still be trying to be less conspicuous.
Mirielle sighs. She walks the street, pretending to be completely lost in her own thoughts. She's had a lot of practice at it. Eventually she stops pretending, and is startled when the gaudily dressed dragonchild appears.