Of Grief and Gifts
Ninth of Olweje-hamba (Olweje Descendent), 1349 A. L. (After Landfall)
You are not sure what you had been expecting out of Odorin when we woke, maybe he like Tom would not remember how his mind had been twisted.
Or maybe Tom just doesn't want to talk about it, the part of you that had learned to read people to a frightful degree noted. Perhaps the boy would be angry or scared, the servants had certainly been enough of both once the fires had been pout out and the word had gone out that there had been no plague only enchantment. The nobles of the Old City y are not inclined to take the word of 'glorified rat chasers' when it comes to keeping safe and keeping clean their blood and kin.
What you had not expected was a sudden gasp, a look lost and confused as a man lost at sea though he was in his own bedroom, the morning sunlight playing over the old red and green tapestry, its gold thread faded, or more likely unwound by some desperate ancestor. "She said he loved me... she said... it all happened didn't it. She was a monster and I was the fool, I was worse than that, I was
food."
"Love isn't always what the bards sing of," Esha cuts in. "Love can be greedy, love can be selfish, love can be cruel. One might love the reflection of himself in another's eyes, another might love not what the other person is but what they might become, as clay is molded to the potter's wheel. Perhaps the lady loved a dream and shared it with you."
"She was..." his fist tightened into the sheets. "She was a monster, she was that thing."
"And what pray makes you think that monsters cannot dream and hope and love even?" the sorceress continues, but you can see Odorin does not get the point.
"The best lies are the ones with an ounce of truth to them," you interject. "She was trying to get away from her own shadow if I understand the accounts of Enil and the rest of the hunters. A doomed attempt, but one no less sincere for it."
There are tears gleaming in the corner of Odorin's eyes, but they make older not younger.
"Once more I find myself in your debt, once more undone, the head of a disgraced house. My fellows will not break bread and take salt with me for fear of plague and gossips whispering at corners have been fed a year's worth of rumors. But what reward I can give I shall. Name your reward and you shall have it."
[] The remains and effects of the traveler, perhaps they will help you understand more about the specter what now haunts Wayfarer's Respite and if not Zaia's account that her power felt more like Antonio's than any other magician you have met is fascinating
[] The land you had come here to buy, though its estrangement so soon after the last patch might add to House Koire's poor reputation
[] A prize in gold and silver, the house's fortunes had turned a little before this and unlike land gold can be handed off in secret (+6,000 Golden Icari)
[] Write in
OOC: Next up after this will be the next turn update.