>>5543044>>5543051>>5543058>>5543075>>5543082>>5543094>>5543098>>5543267>>5543425>Insist that she cannot see her, for the current quest she is on is too great to be pushed aside. If she wishes to become her apprentice, then she must wait for your lady to be available.>Assure her that you'll mention her, but that she must leave for now or else incur your master's annoyance.“I’m afraid I must insist you cannot see her. The quest she has set upon is of too much import to be sidelined. If you wish to be her apprentice, you'll have to wait for her to become available.” You try to be a little more forceful with the presumably deaf elf. The executioner has folded his arms behind you in a show of solidarity. “I will mention your name, but I’m afraid you must leave. ”
“You insist.” The elf’s cold eyes grow severe. “..No, I see. You must be SIGURDSÖNN. The other apprentice.”
“Uh–wha–?” You begin, but the elf continues.
“I’m well aware she took on her first apprentice from the conservatory. It’s you.” The student decides for herself. INGRAINE turns from you with a flourish, back toward the interior of her motor carriage. “Fine. I’ll leave. I’ll be back to speak to her soon enough.”
And with the thwck-thwck-thwcking of her engine and the bubbling of smoke from her tailpipe, the motor carriage veers from your path.
[...]
“..Yes, my lady. The elf took off then.” You finish your recounting of the strange meeting to your witch as she paces the antechamber of the chapel. The house has set back onto its path to the dungeon.
“Hmm.. an Sprys, an Sprys.. yes, I recall denying her inquiry. I get mountains of letters from prospective apprentices every month, but her magical acumen and her persistence stood out to me. I believe you were the one to rubber stamp all seven of my rejection letters to her.” She glances at you–stamping and sealing letters being part of your daily chore list, of course. “Oh, well. I’ll prepare an eighth.”
“Then might I ask why you continue rejecting her, my lady? She seems quite capable as an apprentice.” You prod your lady. “Her full-blooded elfhood, her ancestral heritage, her high marks, her letters of recommendation, even her WILD CARD MAGIC..? It all seems to suit a GREAT WITCH of your caliber.”
“Because I don’t take apprentices.” The witch responds plainly as she peers back out the window. “Now, we’re close to the dungeon. We ought to bring some muscle with us for the trip down. I’ll leave it to you.”
>Who do you bring with you to the dungeon? 