#lighthouseforghosts

It may be out of line for her to suggest something to a total stranger, but Vivi couldn't help but worry at the pallor of their skin.

She could be worrying for nothing, though.

had he still the voices of elven history in his mind, perhaps he would have noticed a hand in his pocket sooner. iloren is an attentive man yet the city distracts him. he hasn't often wandered here with all the noise and sights busying his head.

today he has, and he's received thievery for his troubles.

the inquisitor turns to look at who's successfully fished a few things out of his pocket. they were most likely looking for the apparatus he was given when he arrived. he's gathered that's what you use to pay for most anything. he hasn't used it yet, bartered his way through whatever short trips he's done, but he'd also not like to part with it.

it's a surprisingly handsome man. iloren's eyebrow raise with the appreciation that quickly gets rid of any irritation he may have been feeling. but he keeps that neatly tucked away, watching him with an unimpressed expression.

The blue-flamed lantern's glow had become dimmer over the last few days as the Merchant had reduced the amount of fuel the flame had been consuming, and set to work stripping down the various ingredients he had people fetch for him for small rewards.

dnd skill checks. ⎛ using the roll20 sheet i have for balduran ⎠

there are perks to telepathy, to his nature as an illithid. the world easily bends, the minds of others even moreso. and this? the rogue is silent in body and mostly in mind. perhaps any other target would remain blissfully ignorant. but balduran is not any other target.

there was no one like balduran. not before, and not after.

his hand wraps around the rogue's wrist. tight, a warning. he thinks that maybe if he puts enough pressure on it, he could dislocate that wrist. but he doesn't need to, not yet.

❝ you may want to reconsider doing this. ❞

Daud examined the blade before him. No mistaking it, this was his sword. The sword he'd had by his side for thirty years. The sword that he killed the Empress with. Saved her daughter with.

He sighed. He'd handed over the blade he'd bought to Thomas, and had aimed to get himself a new one- but it seemed the Stars saw fit to return this relic to him.

Regardless, he was still going to Rhymes with Fun. Billie needed a weapon, same as anyone else, and with his old blade in hand? He could tell that it needed a professional sharpening.

Maybe he'd pick up a few whetstones while he was there, too.

When he arrived at the shop, Daud didn't see the proprietor, or Helena- but he did see a tan-skinned... man? Woman?

Person, he settled on. Pointed ears, and long hair with trinkets tied into them, and what looked like kohl about the eyes. Like some of the sailors he knew, painting their lids to protect their vision from the sun.

He approached the desk with the strange attendant, taking the sheathed blade from his belt to lay across the counter.

This isn't the first new roommate he has had in his year long stay in Spirale City, nor would it be his last, he presumed. Each and every one came and went, bringing their secrets, their stories, and keeping them to themselves. After all, Legato did not bother to get to know the people he shared a living space with, not until his alternate self crash landed into Golden Ward.

" If that is what you are going to do, go on, but it won't make much of a difference, " Legato murmurs plainly, leaning over the counter as he drops a copious amount of sugar cubes into the boiling hot water he had poured for tea. The lighting was dim; he never had the ceiling light on, opting to utilize the warmer bulbs of smaller lamps.

Not that it mattered. His threads were everywhere.

" You and I share someone in common, so I've heard. Lying will only make things more uncomfortable, " he isn't talented at understanding jokes. Yes, he was getting better at it. Fiyero was good at explaining humor. But many smaller teases went right over his head.

" Especially given that you live here, " Legato's eyes finally flicker over to Rixian, and he asks:

"Heh, heh," the Merchant laughs, "Seems you're a good fit for the team then. C'mon in, we'll show you around."

Though she's clearly out of place in the desert landscape, and sand keeps getting in her circuits, she's determined to get to the top of this tower and figure out whatever the heck (hell) is going on. That's part of the fun, as far as Queen's concerned.

* Hey Chat Queen Here We're Live At Desert Board * Let's Get This Bread With This Guy I Found

And apparently, she's streaming this to a live audience, just as long as the signal stays up.

In the floor above the sitting room lies an old library. The door locks behind them as soon as they enter. Every dusty old bookcase has a hundred fake books, and shadows seem to creep in the corners of the room.

Queen opens one of the books, finds a key...

* Oh Sweet

And immediately tests it on the lock. It doesn't fit, and neither do the next two keys she tries, much to her chagrin.

* Bro They Did Not Organize This At All * No Dewey Decimal System... * Sad

She tosses the key over her shoulder and tries another book. Maybe her partner will have better luck.