He was willing to concede that his actions the day before May have been ill advised. Some followed their jowly leader.
Facing each other/entering negotiations en flagrante that makes it so easy to bare ones soul
Vini plays more guitar because he doesn't want to pigeonhole the harpists
For some reason he now found himself desperate to meet her expectations. Playing something new. Complicating his chord from the one his father taught him, each of the last unifying notes veering slightly towards the unexpected. Saw the begrudging look of appreciation on her face. Her eyes did not leave his as she held out her hand. The musician beside her pale-faced as he placed the neck of the violin in her hand, bow received unacknowledged. Then as he continued to pluck out the notes of the haunting chord, she wove a winding road between them, her notes dancing between his to tell their own story. And so he was freed from the prison of that gaze, freed to seek out his own song alongside her. Careful to maintain the base that allowed her to freedom to fly while exploring these complications himself. The shared a look of mutual, but still begrudging appreciation in the stunned silence that lingered in the wake of their play, before they returned to their natural state of distrust. Silence broken beautifully by the delighted laughter of the Gold Rose, and then by hooting applause.
Elderly lady describing a suit of armor to an islander. Reaches out and pokes it. Falls to pieces, leaves the islander holding an arm. Old lady goes into histrionics about the desecration of her ancestors. Islander sheepishly hands her the arm. Old lady wails again, causing snickers. Gold Rose loses it at the scene and starts laughing. This is the greatest party I have ever thrown.
Erich and Imogen stood listening to a crier read the morning news, a stream of incomprehensible sounds that alluded to something language adjacent, not a word of which either of them had as of yet understood. They were wearing normal clothes due to Imogen's desire to blend in, not that Erich needed any prompting. He loved wearing normal clothes, and it was too rare he had the opportunity these days. Vini sidled up beside them, wearing a flashy leather outfit that was normal to him, but was now earning them a certain amount of curiosity. After listening a few moments, Vini grunted and turned to Erich. "What language do you think he normally speaks? I can't make a single word out." "I have no clue. It isn't old chevonesse. Maybe some esoteric fisker tongue?" "No," Imogen said, tilting her head as the man presumably started another sentence. "The old fisker languages are more gutteral, they catch in the back of your throat. This is almost lyrical, as stumbling as it is." Erich turned to his wife, a bemused look on his face. "You speak ancient fisker languages? I was half joking, but I suppose that makes sense. You do have a knack for harboring uncommon talents." "Gods no, I just read about them recently in a very boring book that Mildred lent me. I think it might be some dialect from the foothills in the southeastern reaches of Chevonne, where the plains finally surrender to the mountains. I have never been there, but as you know I haven't exactly been anywhere, so you will have to forgive the vagueness of my guesswork." "Forgiveness granted, as always. I like your guess better than anything I have managed so far. Well, as entertaining as this is, if we actually want to learn anything this morning we should probably be on our way." Vini excuses himself etc.
We should bring Roche. That does sound prudent. Oh Oh, can we bring Roche's sword master. I can't imagine why we would want to do such a thing, but fine.
Despite his reputation for being silent, the man talked to much. All the better for her, she supposed. Katja on Alsatian, re rogue nation scheming
I have my brother on my shoulders, longship sandwich
Iosifu on politics. What manner of beast is man
Where the coward leads, only cowards follow
Squeal, see I told you the danger must involve fell, occult magicks. I have grown very used to being wrong, but I have never been quite so frustrated to be so as right now
Bee island has beautiful blue flowers that barborra likes, wants to plant them at home , which anders likes
Inkarnate map editor
Wood eater. On another note, I can actually digest wood now, though it still tastes as bad as the first time I forced it down. I can't decide whether that little experiment was a success or a failure