BASTIEN
Arlo confirmed Bastien's suspicions, not that he really needed to; the man looked so lost there was only one thing that could have happened to him. He shook the hand that was offered gladly and tried to give the new Outlander the kindest smile he could. He'd once been there, suddenly in a field in only his sleeping pants and with nothing from his own world on his person.
And there it was, the time-old question: where am I? Taking a breath, Bastien looked about the market stall, the bumbling scene that had become so familiar in the last two years. "..You are in a place called Caido, my friend: well, more specifically the Hollowed Grounds. It's quite common for people to wake up here from somewhere else." Even for Bastien, who prided himself on his eloquence and grace, the situation was difficult to explain. "...Wherever you came from, you will not be able to return."
Perhaps it was a bad idea to tell Arlo that so soon, but Bastien felt that being upfront with that particular fact might be the kindest thing he could do. At least the next thing that Arlo mentioned was something he could really help with; holding up a finger as if to say 'one moment' he leaned back to one of the food stalls and grabbed a wrapped pastry, winking at the shopkeeper, who just rolled his eyes: the people of the Hollowed Grounds had come to know Bastien well in the last years and knew he generally paid back in full if not more.
Handing the pastry to Arlo (he wasn't sure what was in it: some kind of meat and cheese?) he thought for a moment and tried to peek at the man's mouth, wondering if he'd be wanting blood instead. Hopefully not. "What is your name?"
And there it was, the time-old question: where am I? Taking a breath, Bastien looked about the market stall, the bumbling scene that had become so familiar in the last two years. "..You are in a place called Caido, my friend: well, more specifically the Hollowed Grounds. It's quite common for people to wake up here from somewhere else." Even for Bastien, who prided himself on his eloquence and grace, the situation was difficult to explain. "...Wherever you came from, you will not be able to return."
Perhaps it was a bad idea to tell Arlo that so soon, but Bastien felt that being upfront with that particular fact might be the kindest thing he could do. At least the next thing that Arlo mentioned was something he could really help with; holding up a finger as if to say 'one moment' he leaned back to one of the food stalls and grabbed a wrapped pastry, winking at the shopkeeper, who just rolled his eyes: the people of the Hollowed Grounds had come to know Bastien well in the last years and knew he generally paid back in full if not more.
Handing the pastry to Arlo (he wasn't sure what was in it: some kind of meat and cheese?) he thought for a moment and tried to peek at the man's mouth, wondering if he'd be wanting blood instead. Hopefully not. "What is your name?"
Still my heart is heavy
With the hate of some other man's beliefs
With the hate of some other man's beliefs
