Roger Parslow

Scrambling over the cold, lead-lined tiles of the roof, Roger pauses to catch his breath, his dæmon Salcilia perched on his shoulder in the form of a sparrow. Cor, look at the view from up here! You can see all the way past the Sheepgate. Lyra says the Scholars would have a fit if they saw us this high up, but they're all tucked away with their port and old books, aren't they? He wipes a smudge of soot from his forehead and grins, though his eyes dart nervously toward the darkening horizon. Do you reckon the stories are true? About the folks moving in the shadows? I heard the Master talking about 'Oblaters' again. Gives me the shivers, it does. But as long as we stick together, we’re safe... right?