Weaver moves through the small crowd of the marketplace with the ease of someone who has done this all her life and who has a purpose. She knows where she is taking Wessex, though she is sure to go slow so Wessex can browse if she wants, and she points out the major features of the market and Halo as they pass by. “I was thinking I might come crash the party. Guess I should find myself a gift so I’m not too terrible a guest,” she says with a bit of a grin, knowing full well that it was hard to crash a party that everyone was invited to. It still feels like crashing though, since it is not a tradition found in Halo.
As they go, Weaver answers questions as well. They are easy questions, certainly not the things you ask a stranger but definitely the sort of things you ask someone you have just offered an entire luxere to in exchange. “Weaver. I am withholding judgment on Neron and the Launcelyns till they’ve had some time to prove themselves, or not, as the case may be. They are working on a magic school though.” She points in the direction of the palace where a new, nearly finished building stands nearby. It is a thing Weaver is particularly excited about, and even if she decides she hates the new (supposed) leaders of Halo, she will forever be slightly grateful for at least this one thing.
Her answer doesn’t exactly answer Wessex’s assumption that she is a Natural, but she doesn’t deny it either and that should be enough to confirm the suspicion. She was a pretty easy going Natural who didn’t necessarily mind the Outlanders so long as they proved not to suck. “We have mostly the Old Gods here, the New Gods being so very new and all and us just escaping a bubble. Though they seem to be trickling in. Me, personally? Well the Gods don’t care about me, and that’s about the end of it.” It is as good as admitting she’s an Abandoned, though with so little magic to speak of she might as well not be. IF she was going to be hated by the Gods regardless though, perhaps she should actually learn magic.
Weaver turns a corner to the right and the marketplace thins out, not necessarily seedy here but definitely on the outskirts of the main shops. Weaver stops before a stall that, at the moment seems unoccupied. Picking up a small, silver trinket on the table, Weaver studies it for a moment while they wait. “I’ve never seen a dragon. My mother said she defeated one once, though. Can’t promise that story is true, but she’d had a few white scales for ‘proof,’” Weaver makes little quotes with her free hand as she says the word proof. She puts the trinket back down and picks up something that looks vaguely like a large tooth. “Rumors have it there’s one living in The Fangs at the moment that you may actually be able to find if you look hard enough. Really, there's probably a few of them in the Fangs, since that’s their sort of home, but finding one seems like a wish most likely." She pauses, waving a hand at the items on the table. "Browse, Mavis won’t mind. She’ll be back in a few, I’m sure. It doesn’t look like much here but there are stories to each of her items. Sometimes they are even true, particularly if you feel drawn to the item.”
As they go, Weaver answers questions as well. They are easy questions, certainly not the things you ask a stranger but definitely the sort of things you ask someone you have just offered an entire luxere to in exchange. “Weaver. I am withholding judgment on Neron and the Launcelyns till they’ve had some time to prove themselves, or not, as the case may be. They are working on a magic school though.” She points in the direction of the palace where a new, nearly finished building stands nearby. It is a thing Weaver is particularly excited about, and even if she decides she hates the new (supposed) leaders of Halo, she will forever be slightly grateful for at least this one thing.
Her answer doesn’t exactly answer Wessex’s assumption that she is a Natural, but she doesn’t deny it either and that should be enough to confirm the suspicion. She was a pretty easy going Natural who didn’t necessarily mind the Outlanders so long as they proved not to suck. “We have mostly the Old Gods here, the New Gods being so very new and all and us just escaping a bubble. Though they seem to be trickling in. Me, personally? Well the Gods don’t care about me, and that’s about the end of it.” It is as good as admitting she’s an Abandoned, though with so little magic to speak of she might as well not be. IF she was going to be hated by the Gods regardless though, perhaps she should actually learn magic.
Weaver turns a corner to the right and the marketplace thins out, not necessarily seedy here but definitely on the outskirts of the main shops. Weaver stops before a stall that, at the moment seems unoccupied. Picking up a small, silver trinket on the table, Weaver studies it for a moment while they wait. “I’ve never seen a dragon. My mother said she defeated one once, though. Can’t promise that story is true, but she’d had a few white scales for ‘proof,’” Weaver makes little quotes with her free hand as she says the word proof. She puts the trinket back down and picks up something that looks vaguely like a large tooth. “Rumors have it there’s one living in The Fangs at the moment that you may actually be able to find if you look hard enough. Really, there's probably a few of them in the Fangs, since that’s their sort of home, but finding one seems like a wish most likely." She pauses, waving a hand at the items on the table. "Browse, Mavis won’t mind. She’ll be back in a few, I’m sure. It doesn’t look like much here but there are stories to each of her items. Sometimes they are even true, particularly if you feel drawn to the item.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
