Ulak walked over and put a hand on Dugan’s shoulder. ”No, friend. Keep your gold. We found this bag back at the temple of Droskar. Nobody claimed it, but there was this gold inside. It would be better for it to go to paying for these people instead.”
"You'd swear we were in Chelliax. Most Andoran's like to puff up their chest with national pride. It'd knock the wind from their sails to see the people of this town getting bullied by these thugs." Inconnu shakes his head.
Laurel scarcely looks up from her work inside the crowded shop. She bounces between portioning out doses of the cure and returning to the counter to pass it along to the next customer.
Her eyes are dimmed and heavily ringed, and her clothes bear new rips and stains.
She pulls the proffered money and stows it behind her counter before any of the myriad eager hands opposite her could snatch it.
She mouths something, perhaps a terse, tired "Thank you," but it is hard to hear her.
The crowd surges forward more loudly, taking Dugan and Ulark's competing offers of generosity as a cue to become more impatient to be served.
The rise in sound attracts the two deputies inside, and they attempt to quell the crowd and restore some semblance of order.
"Yes, yes, you're right," Eli nods in agreement. "I'll go ask Noah to run into town for us. Why don't you stay here and rest for a bit? Between your long journey and now...this, it all must be taking a toll."
He pauses by the door with a heavy sigh.
"I wasn't going to mention it, but since you mentioned 'fragments of truth,' I feel too guilty to keep quiet. Your mother isn't the only one who fell ill. When Sarah returned from town yesterday, she said that Ayla and Hannah also started coughing, and that Mina's husband wasn't feeling well. Hopefully this medicine won't cost us too much. Of all your siblings who live in town, Lina's family is the only one I'm not worried about. According to her, they've never been healthier, at least that's what Sarah said Lina told her."
Eli doesn't wait for a response before stepping out and closing the door to fetch his youngest child.
Joanne she's her father rush to her Brother.
She says to herself jokingly
"Well at least now he can't feel guilty of hiding something."
Joanne walks into the kitchen/dinning room and talks with her mom
"Well Dad is being Dad again, and he gave me the family update.
I just hope the LC didn't try something to get the medicine first,
but if that happened it would've mark the beings of a cold day in hell."
Now that he is up Inconnu goes to get some breakfast before heading in the direction of Hide for the Hills. He keeps his eyes peeled in case any of the thugs have lingered to watch him or are following as he goes.
Visiting Jocelyn at work is a wise choice, as stopping by her home is as certain to start a fight for Inconnu as confronting a pack of Consortium strongarms.
Hide for the Hills is located just outside one of the western gates in the town's palisade because curing leather is one of the most foul smelling jobs imaginable.
In fact, during past meetings, Jocelyn has asked her suitor to use his magic to expunge the smell from her clothes and hair.
"I'm just using you for your magic, you fool," she had playfully joked.
Inconnu finds her in the fenced yard beside the shop, stirring a reeking vat of yellow-brown liquid with a long, thin dowel.
A rag is tied around her mouth and nose, but she occasionally lowers it as she is wracked by a seizing cough.
Inconnu will make the rag smell of lavender. "If that's true I think you're selling yourself short, I'm sure you could find someone with more magic than me."
"I headed out into the forests on an excursion, we got together ingredients for Laurel ...I know she's snowed under still but later you might speak to her before that cough gets too bad. How are your family?"
"None of them are sick, if that's what you mean. Just like Miss Lina and her family, they've managed to avoid this plague - and they intend to keep it that way."
She leans her dowel against the side of the vat and takes a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead.
"Ma and Pa haven't been to town in three days. They're living off water from the cutyard's rain barrels, even if it's a couple a coppers per mugful. Ja' and I've been sticking to water from the river. It tastes like sawdust but its free and can't possibly do any more damage."
She pauses, feeling another bout of coughing, but manages to suppress it and ties the rag back around her face.
"If Miss Lina can pay me for the day, I'll try Laurel. She'd be a better prospect than the Iomedean woman."
Jocelyn shakes her head dismissively and resumes stirring the foul vat.
Joanne continues a bit more with her mother
"I pray Laurel isn't having much trouble with the LC."
"It is sad to hear that some more of the family got the blackscour taint, But things should be getting better."
Joanne then puts her elbow on her thigh and fist at her chin.
"Though, I'll admit I'm a bit jealous of my siblings in that they all got married and started a family, while I've remained single."
"You may not have inherited my good looks, but the word for you is still 'blessed.' Then again, with your latest...growth spurt," she chuckles, "the word has taken on a whole new meaning."
Evangeline rises from bed and sets about the household chores.
"If your father asks, I was in bed the entire time. That beloved fool is confusing sick with delicate."
"Anyhow, I raised you girls to be proud, but you're a special case, Jana. With respect to your father and brother, I don't think there's a man in this town worthy of you. Had your father's Pathfinder friend taken you to Absalom or some other big city, you'd surely have been a noblewoman by now. Instead, here you are, only taking breaks from swinging a logging axe when we need you to traipse into the woods for some hoodoo cure."
"Trying is only part of it, I'm 7 feet tall and muscular, which is intimidating for almost all the men in town since most are afraid of their wife being stronger or bigger then them.
Though I'll admit Samson bucks idea some, since he is still taller then Ayla, but by 3 inches and they are near equal in strength and stamina. Then again he is half-Ulfen, and likely hoping for a strong son."
"Heck even the Ferry captain Might Mary who is 3 inches shorter then me though more muscular then me is also having a hard time finding a gentleman who'll date her."
"We both tend to have the same problems like; needing custom clothes and under garments, the expensive nature of those clothes and undergarments, and given the pay and work out here, we can hardly afford cute and or nicely feminine clothes at the custom price tag.
Even with Mina and Lina giving us a bit of a price cut on our purchases."
then jokingly adds with a bit of a laugh
"Even if me and Mary got some cute clothes, The only ones who might show some interest in either Me or Mary would be any *Ulfen man that comes to town who's not married,
since they are already taller and stronger then most Andoran men, and likely like their women strong as well."
then continues normally
"True, I could of been a noblewoman, but I think a life like that would slowly corrode your moral center and common sense.
So I'm happy being raised on a farm where morals and common sense are learned and kept since they are the foundation of civilisation and society."
"Overly religious types can be a bit odd. The group I went out with to get the ingredients found a few oddities we have to sell still..." He holds up his coin purse "Let's consider this an investment in your health and my piece of mind."
"Of course if you've decided to listen to your sister and want me to leave we met a delightful somewhat scary fey woman... she really liked how I solved riddles."
Joanne thinks on some of the words she said then adds
"I'm kinda hoping when Mr Kraft and Holo, come in with their wares they're bringing Ulfen guards again.
As Me and Mary made an agreement if one of gets a date with one we'll hope his twin brother or brother is with him so we can do a double date."
A most unlikely confrontation in the muddy thoroughfare meets your eyes, as it draws many other spectators from doors and windows leaning against the road.
Lady Cirthana stands on one side, more confused than imperious. Sawdust already clings to her, dulling the gleam of her breastplate and dirtying the white, yellow-trimmed cassock beneath the armor.
Opposing her is a child of only 11 or 12 years. It is only as you draw closer that you can discern it is a girl. Her hair is a long, tangled mess, and you are unsure which is dirtier: her hands, her clothes, or her face.
Another child shivers behind her like a scared animal. The boy is perhaps 3 years her junior, and his skin is pale as sour milk.
”No offense was meant, child,” Cirthana explains sternly. ”But I am concerned about your friend because if the stories about his father are true…”
”Stow it!” the girl interrupts the priestess. ”Savram doesn’t need your pity, and I don’t either. None of us do.”
One of the spectators loitering by a neighboring shrine calls out, ”Give her hell, Kimi!”
"We had to talk to her to get one of the ingredients. I'm sensible enough to avoid such an encounter but since I had to I'll take pride in getting away intact. I don't intend on making a habit of it."
Joanne then adds
"Though with me gaining wings it'll be harder now to find a cute dress that'll work keeping the wings hidden or working with them.... "
Dugan watches the spectacle as he wanders over towards the person that called out. '[b]What's going on here?/b]' He asks, eyes glued on the woman and child.
”What is going on here? I thought with a cure found things would come down. If anything, the town is losing its mind now more than before we left!”
The gap-toothed local, sporting a day-old black eye from some brawl, leers warily at Dugan as he approaches.
He idly tosses a copper into a bowl sitting in the Calistrian statue's hands before speaking.
"Eavewalker's daughter's picking a fight with that Iomedaean quim," he tells Dugan, aiming a knotted thumb towards the confrontation. "She's so eager for a scrap, she's sticking up for Vade's creepy whelp."
Cirthana nods her head in a curt greeting to Ulark as he approaches, but she turns to discover that the distraction has allowed the girl to grab her friend by the thin wrist and flee between two nearby, ramshackle buildings.
She sighs, almost a derisive snort, before speaking.
"For every problem solved, this town spawns three more," the priestess says through grit teeth. "Young Savram's father is the subject of many wicked rumors. I wanted to speak with the boy to find the truth and offer counsel, but his impetuous friend took exception to my offer of aid."
"Well, this just means Mina and David will have to be a bit more creative. They'd probably welcome the change from repairing twice handed-down breeches and blouses."
"After all, when folks from the Perch need new clothes, they don't visit your sister. They just have Vorshin import their silks and finery from Olfden. Mina's most creative outlet is when Hebbradan or some other scarlet woman from the docks needs a scandalous number for entertaining."
Joanne replies
"At least we know a cross halter design works for the upper torso
and am glad I still had this old bathing suit top, otherwise I'd be topless right now.
So all my new clothes would need an open upper back design with reasonable support, which I can imagine is not so simple.
Though I think your right in that they'll like the challenge."
"I'm also going to need Lina to make me some cross halter type bras,
since all my old ones don't work with my wings and they should be simple to make.
I can imagine that they might work together on it."
Dugan strides, for a dwarf, out to the combatants in the street. He reaches out to lay a heavy hand on Kimi's shoulder, restraining her lightly.
'There's no glory in dirtying priests' robes, girl. You wanna fight? I can spar with you. Train you proper.' He says firmly, but calmly.
Dugan catches the fleeing children behind the Calistrian shrine, clapping his hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Why would I need your help? My father will train me," she says, shrugging off Dugan's hand but not running off.
The pale boy inches closer beside her and whispers, barely loud enough to be heard.
"But Kimi, your father hasn't returned in two years."
Kimi turns and glares for a moment at her friend, who shrinks back under her gaze.
"Don't you start on that too, Savram! He will be back!"
Back on Worship Way, Cirthana glances at the onlookers who begin to disperse, then continues speaking with Ulark.
"You are a local, and one of the more upstanding examples, but I am not sure how familiar you are with all of this town's unsavory powers. That boy's father is Sharvaros Vade, a hermit of a wizard who seldom leaves his home."
Cirthana aims a spear-straight arm towards the Perch, and her finger draws Ulark's attention to a sturdy, ugly stone tower upon the hill.
"Unsurprisingly, such a figure conjures all manners of foul rumors among the superstitious populace of this town. The most common and worrying rumors, though, concern his dabbling with necromancy."
She lowers her arm and smooths out her cassock, wiping some sawdust from her armor.
"I am in no position to confront such a man directly, but I can try to save his son from following his footsteps down such a dark path."
Ulark looked at her and bowed his head. "I have been far too entrenched in my own work these years. I had no idea...no, I did not want to know, how much trouble there is in this town. If there is anything I can do to help, I would be glad to. Perhaps I should talk to Sharvaros? What would you suggest?"
Joanne then adds
"Now I'm curious; who was the first one to make their move, you or Dad?"
Cirthana's brow hardens into a furrow and her stony mouth briefly sinks into a scowl.
"In my time here, I've learned the danger of acting so boldly and underestimating the vileness of this town. When I was first dispatched here, 12 acolytes were sent along with me. Only two still remain.”
She does not even wait for Ulark to raise the question before offering an answer.
”Two of them could not manage the stress of this posting and requested to return to Almas. Another three succumbed to the vice rife in this town - one of whom fled south in disgrace, another who was fatally stabbed in a drunken dockside brawl, and the third who entered Bloodeye’s Rouge Lady and...well, he never emerged that I’m aware of.”
“The worst was the five who were all lost all at once, and by my own error. Do you remember the outbreak of leprosy that struck the town a few years back? I learned that many of the surviving afflicted took to squatting in the abandoned cutyard, hiding themselves from their friends and neighbors. I sent five acolytes to offer food and medical aid. None of them returned.”
“I marched to Gavel Kreed’s manor and demanded he send men to investigate. Reeking of alcohol and smoke, he laughed in my face and said that his men would be of no use if their ‘cutting hands rotted off.’ Baleson was not yet sheriff, so he could not offer help. Now that I have spent many mornings meditating on the matter, I realize I that I would not want to send him or his deputies to their doom, as I sincerely doubt they could handle what six of the Inheritor’s blessed souls could not.”
"Ultimately, I learned from the whole affair to be more cautious in my actions," she sighs.
"Neither, actually," Evangeline laughs before another, brief coughing fit.
"I don't know what story your father told you over the years - probably something that paints him as a dashing young swain - but he was quite shy and awkward. He was too embarrassed to approach me, and I don't think I had even taken notice of him yet."
"It was Noah - not your brother, obviously, but your father's old friend - who tired of Eli's stumbling and took action. Noah approached me, explained that...well, I think his exact words were:
'My friend, Eli, is hopelessly smitten with you. Please speak with him to spare me any more evenings of his lovesick longing.'"
Evangeline laughs again, this time without coughing.
"I was certainly less than enchanted by such an introduction, but I gave him a chance anyway. As it turns out, once he overcame the initial barrier of his shyness...well, you know the rest, obviously, dear."
'Where'd your daddy get off to? Maybe I can go check on him?' Dugan offers the child.
Ulark’s green skin paled as he listened to the cleric talk. ”I always knew there were bad sorts...but I never knew it was so bad! I am sorry for being so blind. What can we do? What can I do? I am at your service, to the best and entirety of my service.” The large forester looked at her with eager, if innocent, eyes.
"My father would never need anyone, 'specially not you, to 'check' on him. He's Idris Eavewalker: one of the greatest elf rangers ever. Ever."
She emphasizes her words by pulling back the tangles of hair at the sides of her head to reveal ears that taper like daggers.
"He's on another adventure, recovering powerful relics from dangerous dungeons to keep them out of the hands of evil. As soon as I can get a sword of my own, I'm going to become an adventurer, too."
She releases her hair to place her hands on her hips, standing proud and defiant. The edge of her mouth curls slightly for a glimmer of an instant.
"But, you know...maybe you're right. Maybe I'll let you teach me to fight. That way my father can skip the basics and get right to teaching me his real fighting tricks when he returns."
Cirthana looks upon you with approval and the slightest hint of warmth peeking from behind her steely demeanor.
”By recovering the ingredients for the cure, you’ve already done much for this town. Even beyond what I could manage.”
“I will take some time to meditate and pray, seeking guidance from Iomedae on the wisest course of action. For now, it is enough to continue serving as a shining example of righteousness and dignity for those around you.”
Joanne smiles some after her mother finishes her telling of events
"Well, isn't that twist. So sometimes a third party can help with the issue."
"Shame almost all of the men are intimidated by my height, otherwise It'd be easier for them and myself to approach each other.
I just pray I don't get any bigger or I might end up really intimidating to the men around here."
"Shame almost all of the men are intimidated by my height, otherwise It'd be easier for them and myself to approach each other.
I just pray I don't get any bigger height wise or I might end up being really intimidating to the men around here."
"But I think your right on a previous point in a way, in that I need some feminine clothes and not just work clothes made with a leather exterior.
But in being a bit of a tomboy for so long it's hard for me to imagine wearing them and if I did what style would; suit me, work with me, help bring out my looks....."
'Let's grab a couple of clubs and see where you're at. I'm sure the daughter of such a fierce warrior has no small amount of inborn talent.' Dugan turns quickly and begins searching for a pair of sparring weapons without waiting for Kimi's response.
Lady Cirthana returns to the temple, leaving Ulark to his own devices for now.
Joanne passes some time with her mother until Noah returns with the medicine for her.
With a pair of discarded, oblong hunks of wood, Dugan gives Kimi her first formal lesson in fighting.
Lastly, Inconnu makes another visit to Roots and Remedies to pick up a dose of medicine for Jocelyn.
.....
The next few days are comparatively dull as you return to your ordinary lives in this sawdust-choked town.
Thankfully, though, the hacking coughs quickly subside and no more lives are lost to the Blackscour Taint.
Ulark returned to work for the first day. He was...not completely there, if he was honest with himself. Lady Cirthana‘s words haunted him. He thought he could see eyes in the shadows, watching him. In the past he always thought the feeling was due to fey creatures. Now? The reality of the consortium made new monsters to plague his imagination.
Unable to properly sleep, he woke up late the next day. After a half-hearted attempt to be productive, he soon abandoned all pretense of work. Going back to his shack, he spent the day doing minor repairs and running errands. He had been gone long enough on their quest that his pantry needed restocking, and the leak in his roof certainly required more nails...
By the third day, life seemed to be more or less normal. The undead dwarves, jumping cutlery, and omnipresent corruption of the town, all seemed somehow distant. He threw himself into the simple joy of a good day’s work with gusto, using his enormous strength to it’s full value. By the time he was done, he had almost made up for the time lost.
It takes a few days for Joanne's sisters to help her with her wing problem making wing sheaths and a few new clothes that can hide her wings in the wing sheaths.
After that she gets back to work
She has trouble with her work in getting used to her wing sheaths and new clothes.
Joanne even heads into town to chat with Mary about planning a time to go on a small shopping trip for more casual clothes they could use on a date, if either of them get lucky enough to get one.
Both were hoping the Travelling merchant Mr Kraft and Holo will have some Ulfen bodyguards again whom might take an interest in them.
Dugan spends the next few days putting young Kimi through her paces. Having no particular business in town and finding the forest a little too formidable to wander alone, the dwarf hopes he can learn more about the area from his pupil.
He spends his evenings drinking at Jack'a'napes swapping tales and rounds with locals. Hoping to hear rumors of local unexplored ruins.
Inconnu will spend some time with Jocelyn and telling tales at the local tavern. Sadly as he was well aware pickings were slim in Falcons Hollow, he'd get more from selling of his old sword than spinning yarns for a month here. Unless fate took a strange twist he would likely have to carry on his nomadic ways before long again.
You haul the precious timber back to the logging camp, but the cutyard boss cites “penalty fees” implemented by the Gavel to cover your past few days’ lack of productivity.
In the end, you only earn 3 gold above what it takes to cover your living expenses.
The wing sheathes she has produced are far from stylish, and they're made from the rough materials she and David have access to, yet they are both comfortable and sturdy.
Work on the farm is rough going. The ground remains firm and cold, resisting efforts to prepare for spring planting.
In town, Mary playfully scoffs at your suggestion.
"We'd need quite a bit of luck. Not just to cajole those Ulfen bravos and get them to behave, but to also get ahold of passes to the High Market so we could buy some clothes actually worth wearing."
Bringing your sparing matches to the edge of town, just outside the palisade, you discover your old firefoot fox friend often spectating curiously.
For Kimi's part, the tomboyish girl takes to the lessons handily, displaying reckless bravery in her efforts.
...
Most of the rumors you hear around Jak-a'-Napes or the Sitting Duck have less to do with lost ruins or treasure, and more to do with the local superstitions.
The portly but drunkenly witted Jasin Greatoak insists that an evil water sprite has taken up residence in Brookman's Well, and she's the source of the Blackscour.
"That's why we gotta stick ta ale," he slurs before downing the last of his mug.
The inn owner, Jak Crimmy, walks by and offers a sardonic grin and shake of his head.
"If 'Great Oaf' here passes out from tellin' you tall tales," the ruddy-faced owner whispers to you, "You're gonna have to help me haul him upstairs."
Jocelyn, having quickly recovered from the Blackscour, jokes that you should stop by the Goose 'n' Gander and haggle with Brickasnurd.
"If you can find him in that cavernous shop of his, maybe you could convince that gnome to buy the sword of a local hero for a few sails."
.....
The lingering chill of winter finally ebbs as the 11th of Pharast rolls around, and sunrise brings the first hints of warm breezes from beyond the Wolfrun Hills.
It is almost imperceptible, but there is a greater vein of mirth running subtly among the laborers, families, and children of Falcon's Hollow.
As if by unspoken consensus, the day is chosen to mark First Cut - the local festival welcoming the return of spring.
The day begins like any other, however, with loggers shouldering their axes and marching north, shopkeepers brushing the sawdust from their windows, and the unending growl from the riverside sawmill.
One of the few signs that the day stands out is when Gavel Thuldrin Kreed, accompanied by his lickspittle Boss Teedum and some rough Consortium thugs, descends the promenade leading up to the Perch to make an announcement.
Kreed and his entourage march to the Hollow Tribunal, the town’s civic hall where merchant licenses are dispensed, mining and logging claims are stamped, and criminal and civil cases receive judgement.
As he walks, Kreed deliberately steps in the way of a porter slowly hauling a cart into the Low Market.
Kreed draws a riding crop and strikes the man across the side of his head.
”Watch your step, cur!” he barks. The porter also earns a thick-handed slap from Teedum as he tries to hurry on his way.
Kreed climbs the porch of the Tribunal and clears his throat loudly to attract the attention of everyone gathered around the Low Market.
”Good people of Falcon’s Hollow, dutiful employees of the generous Lumber Consortium,” he bellows. ”You have proven our strength in the face of disease and brought us into what will surely be another profitable year. To both commemorate First Cut and honor your endurance, this month we will be granting passes for the High Market to 9, rather than 3, loyal employees.”
“As usual, our own Magistrate Harg has fairly drawn the lottery to select our lucky residents.”
Kreed announces the first three names, but no one steps forward.
”Our first three winners seem to be hard at work in the cutyard,” he smiles wickedly. ”Well, they’ll have an hour to collect their passes before the privilege is considered forfeit. I’m sure they’ll be along shortly.”
Kreed’s cronies chuckle among themselves at the unlikelihood.
The Gavel calls out four more names, only two of whom approach the Tribunal to accept the paper passes.
The eighth name causes Kreed to squint at the slip of paper in his calloused hands. He grumbles to Teedum with a scowl before turning back to the thin crowd.
”Unfortunately, it seems this next name is too smudged to be read properly. No matter. Magistrate Harg will draw a new name when he is not so...busy, and I’m sure the new winner will be duly notified. Anyhow, the last winner is…Ulark Bastardson. Please collect your pass, allowing access to the High Market and its merchants’ fine wares for three days. Let’s all congratulate our winners one last time.”
Joanne then says aloud
"May I see it and see If I can read it,
so as that it be fair to the one that got the draw in the first place.
And May I also check the other names so that someone may know if they are around?"
'Your friend Savram, who looks after him?' Dugan asks after sharply blocking a series of furious blows from Kimi. 'This doesn't seem like a good place for a child on their own'
Ulark frowned. First they took his hard earned gold because he was saving the town, and now they called him Bastardson? Sure, the name stuck, and it was appropriate, but it was the kind of thing only friends were allowed to say. At that moment he truly wanted to grab his axe and cut them down. But he knew to do so was murder, and that was wrong. Taking a deep breath he allowed Joanne to do whatever it was she planned.
For so long he had dreamed of getting out of the town. Of seeing the world, of doing good things. He had always planned to take his savings and use a pass to high market as his time to escape. But now? Seeing how bad things were...why leave to do good when there was so much wrong here? But even then, what could he do? He was angry, and felt helpless. A very poor combination.
Thuldrin's scowl transforms into a leer, and he welcomes Joanne up to the Tribunal building's short steps.
While his cronies edge away from the imposing woman, Thuldrin yields no ground and remains imposingly, uncomfortable close as he offers the slips of paper to Joanne.
"Be my guest, Miss Jana."
The ink on the eighth name is indeed too smudged for Joanne to read, but she notices fresh ink smears on the Gavel's thick thumb, so she suspects this was a recent non-accident.
Of the four names called but not answered, Joanne recognizes three of them. Two are local loggers, one of whom usually works day shifts in the sawmill by the river in town; the other is likely at the cutyard on the forest's edge, far more than an hour away.
The third name is Colbrin Jabbs, the town butcher. He is likely at work in his shop, preparing cuts of meat for both markets.
The last unanswered name is unfamiliar - either a new, seasonal arrival or otherwise a loner.
As Joanne examines the lottery slips, Thuldrin's eyes single out Ulark in the crowd.
"Well, son? Are you gonna come and claim your pass. What do you boys think? The mongrel looks liable to go axe mad on the lot of us."
Teedum and the thugs laugh obsequiously at their boss's joke.
"Savram lives with his father in a tower on the Perch. You'd think that'd mean he was set for life, but no. His dad's some kind of wizard, focuses more on his magic than his son."
"I asked Savram about his father, and I threatened to whip his hide if he didn't tell me, but he kept quiet anyway. I guess that means he's more scared of his old man than he is of me."
Kimi looks at the hunk of wood in her hand, then looks off wistfully towards the northwest.
"Savram and I don't have it so bad. It could be worse. At least we didn't burn up like Elara's kids."
Inconnu jeers at Kreed hoping to turn him into the object of the crowd's disdain. "Ah come now, how would you ever be able to tell with those weak eyes of yours. I wouldn't keep insulting him though, it'd be foolish. Big strong lad like him with good eyesight... if he lowered himself to your level." Inconnu let's out a whistle "Why even a man with your legendarily alluring ways wouldn't have enough friends to stop him... you're looks can ill afford to take a hit can they? I'm just looking out for you mind."