Quoted By:
>Airin’s proposal
‘You don’t need to go this far on someone else’s behalf.’
As much as I dislike to hear it, she - is - correct. Everything I have done, from the very moment Aeg made mention of his hat and poster’s theft, was the result of my doing; I chose to make that deal with him. I chose to visit that teahouse. I chose to talk to the staff, talk to Airin, talk to all those people about the white-handed kid. I chose to trail and eavesdrop on those kids this morning.
… but none of it is an OBLIGATION of mine, and neither is confronting those kids. I’m not playing this game again. I bow out.
>dagger
There exists a practice: When entering the domain of others, and a house of worship - as sign of trust - you disarm yourself and remove headwear as to not shroud your appearance. Us, the freefolk of Sablestream, follow this - as do the Dawnfallfolk, and no doubt many other countries. Except low company. But if I am to catch them, I can’t be caught for a lack of fighting back - such a thought flashed across my mind as I tighten and loop the belt around the right thigh for the last time.
Finally getting some practice with arms was a welcome relief from all of today’s… everything. It took a good few minutes - finding the handiest position to carry, the method which could bring my weapon into action as speedily as possible - but I could say with confidence it would take one second or so. During the break, I also got some practice with the broadsword; wheeling it around was well for my fingers, having been bound to pen and paper for much of the day.
With the passing of the afternoon hours, the conditions of the lounge - once resembling potted fish - soon returned to a more spacious normality. While (technically speaking) work is supposed to conclude at five in the evening, the upcoming days’ workload made the talk with our superiors particularly long. By time I could leave, it was roughly five-thirty. Thirty more minutes before that yellow-haired kid would make that deal.
There never was any fear of missing the arrangement - given where the company was, it was a matter of walking straightly to the west of Oceankeep until--
“H- hgh.” Thon squints and gags once his nose picks up on the “aroma” - if such could be called - of the dilapidated roads which the temples sit on; Salted fish being grilled; Sausage shedding oil of a particularly dark shade; An excess of fish sauce; Frayed incense sticks and candles (whose age most probably surpasses all four of us combined) being burned; Soot and dust nesting in corners and edges, springing to life at the remotest misstep - it’s a quite the lot to get acquainted with. Apparently the murky waterways of Screwpine Canal Road is even worse.
