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[3/3]
Mikail is already asleep by the time you arrive at your quarters. You find Brother Rousseau seated outside in the cooling evening air with a set of board pieces arrayed in some sort of formation on a small table. Opposite him is sat a middling aged man in a plain linen tunic. He is shaven-headed and unarmed, both clear signs of a slave on this island.
The man stands and bows to Brother Rousseau upon your arrival, departing wordlessly before you can even think to introduce yourself. You give your knightly companion a curious look, and he gives you a meaningful one back. Between his knees rests a number of black and white pieces, forming a pattern on the board. Two cups also rest there on the table, steam drifting up invitingly.
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> “Goodnight, Brother Rousseau.” The day has been long and your wounds are playing up. Too tired for games and certainly too tired to try and elicit information from the stonefaced warrior priest. You say your prayers and turn in for rest. Almighty knows you’ll likely need it. [Divine]
> “Is that khave? Very good. What are we playing?” The sun has barely set, and you have barely had time alone with your Comitas companion since stepping ashore. A nice quiet game of… whatever this is… is a good mental exercise with your friend before bed. [Hearty]
> “Making friends, are we? Who was that?” You’d not have been surprised to see Brother Rosseau fleecing the hoplites at cards by now, but playing a board game with the help? Your curiosity is piqued, to say the least. [Idealist]
