empires f a l l when we move the i m m o v a b l e
His answer is naturally disappointing, and Wessex can’t keep the crestfallen look from her face as she deflates a little bit. “I see.” The Wraith falls quiet for a breath while she mulls over her next question. Part of her wants to latch on with a forbidden hope to his admission of not knowing of anything, but no, that won’t help right now.
“Thank you. Can you tell me about any of those old things?” There are rumors, after all, of things in the Lava Pits. And already they’d found Frey’s Breath, the arch in the Mountain Roar’s. That the Climb could hold more secrets would be most unexpected. “Or perhaps…” turning slightly to indicate the nearby obsidian cube with the shallow basin, “About that?” It’s always intrigued her; the obsidian makes her think of the Voice, the cube so modern and stark against the more adorned, fancy vibes the Old Gods seem to require.
“Thank you. Can you tell me about any of those old things?” There are rumors, after all, of things in the Lava Pits. And already they’d found Frey’s Breath, the arch in the Mountain Roar’s. That the Climb could hold more secrets would be most unexpected. “Or perhaps…” turning slightly to indicate the nearby obsidian cube with the shallow basin, “About that?” It’s always intrigued her; the obsidian makes her think of the Voice, the cube so modern and stark against the more adorned, fancy vibes the Old Gods seem to require.
WESSEX
