The breeze brought more than the summer-scent of the ruins to his nose: dry and dusty, old stone and rotten wood, a brief hint of cool mustiness drawn up from some still-intact basement... And a voice he hadn't expected, young and a little stiff, but then, Oliver had seemed an anxious young man when they'd first met, and little in their subsequent interactions had changed that impression. Slowly the bard let his eyes open and turned to glance at the blond, brow arching slightly at the forced smile. The tragedy of Fiat Lux weighed heavily on them all, of course, and each dealt with it in different ways. Instead of returning a false smile he simply nodded a greeting before looking back over the ruins of what was once a beautiful town.
"I'm about to head into the Ruins for some more mapping," he answered. "I've some things I need, and some raw materials which I'm most likely to find in there." He waved his hand at the maze of collapsed buildings and buckled streets. "Might as well hit two birds with one stone. And you? What brings you out this way?"
"I'm about to head into the Ruins for some more mapping," he answered. "I've some things I need, and some raw materials which I'm most likely to find in there." He waved his hand at the maze of collapsed buildings and buckled streets. "Might as well hit two birds with one stone. And you? What brings you out this way?"
