>>5584592>>5584605>>5584615>>5584703>Do your best to comfort him. Whatever you can conjure up.>Talk about yourself. You know more about him than he does about you.“Yes, well–.. I know what that’s like.” You drum your fingers along the haft of your staff. Your mouth feels as if it’s about to wriggle from your face and slip away. “I had.. <span class="mu-i">have</span> a daughter. I think she would be fourteen now, but..?”
You put an immediate stop to that line of thought, warning sirens blaring in your head. Your stomach lurches, though the giant’s palm keeps still.
“I had a husband that fell ill. I swore I would stop at nothing to save him. I didn’t–and for it, I betrayed my daughter, and I will never, ever see her again.” You slip the words out quick as if not to burn your tongue on them. You're quick enough that nausea subsides. “I worked tirelessly trying to preserve my family and ended up destroying it. And now I spend my days chattering with invalids and hags and dogs..”
Morne falls silent. The wolf doesn’t try to look your way, but he stretches his jaw as he thinks on your words. “..You have my condolences. I know what it’s like trying to preserve a family. But I can’t fail. I won’t..”
“WE ALMOST AT IRON MAIDEN, LITTLE BLACK BIRD.” Breaking Wheel’s sack bends down to face you, flesh dimpling and contorting beneath it. The immense, curving wall of the QUARTIER DE DEVOTION stands before you, cutting the sky in twain. “REMEMBER TO KNEEL TO HER, OR SHE GETS REALLY MAD.”
“We need to go.” Morne urges you. “I can’t hope to put up a good fight against Fleur in this state. And you, your oracle and your cripple? You’ll be fed to the birds.”
>Heed his advice and flee the giant! If he says he can’t beat her, then he can’t.>Urge him to face down the Iron Maiden. If not to beat her, then maybe you could earn an immensely powerful servant.>Write-In. 