!em3oEn8LAg 10/29/10(Fri)23:39 No.12617922|
"I like you lad," Poulstet says, slopping some drink on his bare chin. "You'll go far in Hierotoria, mark my words."
"I heard," you say, leaning in for dramatic effect. You hear the sound of seats shifting as the others oblige. Elegy leans in with the others, though Stelton remains aloof, staring off into a corner and puffing lazily on a hose.
"I heard," you begin again, "that a few years back, one of the Alchemist apprentices went mad, and betrayed his master, killing him with the very same poison he was taught to brew," you add some dramatic embellishments, because what the hell.
"Yes, I think I heard something like that," Poulstet says, wiping off his moistened chin and looking ponderous in thought and girth. "Just last year I believe. Whole thing blew over, if I remember correctly. Some people say the apprentice was proven innocent, others say he broke his way out of prison, though," he chuckles, more of a gargle really, "I doubt that."
Elegy listens as attentively as everyone else, but you can feel Stelton's eyes boring into you without even looking.
"You heard about this down south, some bit of rumormongering?" Lord Inklens says. You nod.
"What sort of stories do they tell down there?" Poulstet presses. "You seem familiar with some of our gossip and, if you ask me, mythology."
>Tell a story about blackbirds shrouded in personal metaphor?
>Make some random shit up?
>Blow off the question?