Any fictional grandson of hers would likely have a far better sense of humor than she, in that, they are agreed. Thanking the shopkeeper for their information, Wessex turns and continues on her way.[say] Can’t hurt to wander that way. You might as well see what happened to the Tower.[/say] Dry as the wood in the building that lit under her eyes, the Wraith turns to where the Order’s homebase used to stand and moseys on that-a-ways.
But as there is nothing left but rubble (or tidied up rubble), on the ground, she eventually turns to another, unmissable attraction. A spire like their own, open at the top, but glittering and bright.[say] Huh…[/say] the demigod murmurs mentally to her sister.[say] This is… interesting.[/say]
But as there is nothing left but rubble (or tidied up rubble), on the ground, she eventually turns to another, unmissable attraction. A spire like their own, open at the top, but glittering and bright.[say] Huh…[/say] the demigod murmurs mentally to her sister.[say] This is… interesting.[/say]