starter for @dejatheeinnkeeper.
where: the inn or somewhere private my dear deja is
when: current timeline
note: my DEJAAAA MY DEJAAAA
A banshee was always at the cynosure of death, trouble and ailment the calling card that would provoke such cursed wail from their lips. Deja was Agnes' first stop to check in, to formulate any sense of what had happened; on a vulnerable, emotional sense, Deja was her family, but on a shallower regard, if Deja sensed trouble, all of Agnes' own would be confirmed. Nylathria was gone, some semblance of a cursed whisper confirmed that it was something unusual. The Kossith had overturned their frangible sense of restoration on Aventia, they had claimed it as theirs entirely, and with that many had been taken. She was certain Nylathria was amongst them, and she had a haunting feeling Freydis had been too. The bracelet they'd been attuned to, she could sense a great deal of pain until it snapped off into nothingness, until she could not feel anything any longer of her friend.
With little time for a composed greeting, Agnes let out a weary sigh of relief, "Gods above, Deja, you're alright." Worry set in as she glanced around the inn, barren and quiet, missing many familiar faces, "Have you spoken to them?" Juneau, Asael, Zeliha; any affiliated with the inn who'd come to be a part of this misfitted family.
