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93rd Zi'da 717
One break gone by.
Ten bits spent convincing Neronin that getting a bath may not have been in their collective best interests, but it was essential for the continued longevity of her nose. 15 bits spent popping over to the neighbours and borrowing -okay, fine, stealing- a fresh set of men’s clothes instead of waiting around uselessly while he begrudgingly dipped himself into her wooden tub. Another 15 bits spent dragging that cat out of the alley behind her house, chasing it down, wrestling it down with a complete lack of dignity, melting its spine with an ether missile, and tossing it over to the necromancer to siphon for his wounds. 5 bits for her to rampage through her drawers for the last of her wells… only to remember that her main Etzori cache was all but relocated, her modest dragon’s horde situated back in the Sons’ base at Foster’s. Her side cache in the main city, in turn, was too far away to be worth hitting. Another 5 bits debating Nero over whether to turn those pesky neighbours into fresh thralls to replenish his diminished stock - disappointingly, they both agreed it wasn’t worth the hassle finding bodies so close to home. The underground had too many faces the world wouldn’t miss.
They had given Gavrel an entire break to prepare while they wallowed about.
She wasn’t completely sure where the last 10 bits went to. Time seemed to fly when you were reconnecting with an old friend who was being chased down by at least two necromancers and one skilled mercenary.
The two mages left her home and quickly took the nearest turn into the underground. Neronin’s assertions that he had been chased all this time were…. Suspect, she admitted. She doubted even he could have survived literal seasons behind hunted down like an animal with little rest or respite in between. Her old friend and one-time childhood flame was like her in many ways… a liar, needlessly secretive where sharing information would be the optimal choice, and distrustful even when trust was earned. From the first time they met as children down that horrible alley, he would give her only enough to work with, holding back until it was absolutely necessary to share information.
Coaxing him out of it bit by bit was an art she had somewhat perfected. She hoped she didn’t have too much ring rust with it.
“It’s not going to be easy to find him,” Zipper said, as they found themselves deeper and deeper into the underground. “Especially since he has, to our best suspicions, a complete bead on you. He’ll see you coming a mile away.”
One break gone by.
Ten bits spent convincing Neronin that getting a bath may not have been in their collective best interests, but it was essential for the continued longevity of her nose. 15 bits spent popping over to the neighbours and borrowing -okay, fine, stealing- a fresh set of men’s clothes instead of waiting around uselessly while he begrudgingly dipped himself into her wooden tub. Another 15 bits spent dragging that cat out of the alley behind her house, chasing it down, wrestling it down with a complete lack of dignity, melting its spine with an ether missile, and tossing it over to the necromancer to siphon for his wounds. 5 bits for her to rampage through her drawers for the last of her wells… only to remember that her main Etzori cache was all but relocated, her modest dragon’s horde situated back in the Sons’ base at Foster’s. Her side cache in the main city, in turn, was too far away to be worth hitting. Another 5 bits debating Nero over whether to turn those pesky neighbours into fresh thralls to replenish his diminished stock - disappointingly, they both agreed it wasn’t worth the hassle finding bodies so close to home. The underground had too many faces the world wouldn’t miss.
They had given Gavrel an entire break to prepare while they wallowed about.
She wasn’t completely sure where the last 10 bits went to. Time seemed to fly when you were reconnecting with an old friend who was being chased down by at least two necromancers and one skilled mercenary.
The two mages left her home and quickly took the nearest turn into the underground. Neronin’s assertions that he had been chased all this time were…. Suspect, she admitted. She doubted even he could have survived literal seasons behind hunted down like an animal with little rest or respite in between. Her old friend and one-time childhood flame was like her in many ways… a liar, needlessly secretive where sharing information would be the optimal choice, and distrustful even when trust was earned. From the first time they met as children down that horrible alley, he would give her only enough to work with, holding back until it was absolutely necessary to share information.
Coaxing him out of it bit by bit was an art she had somewhat perfected. She hoped she didn’t have too much ring rust with it.
“It’s not going to be easy to find him,” Zipper said, as they found themselves deeper and deeper into the underground. “Especially since he has, to our best suspicions, a complete bead on you. He’ll see you coming a mile away.”
Boxcode credit: Yolande
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