"Agreed," the bard sighed again, relieved that his companion's thoughts matched so well with his own in that instance. "Not that we have any control over what any other mages might do should they come in contact with the Fae." Another tangent, this one twistingly pessimistic at the thought of someone else encountering the winged folk and acting hastily, with violence or anger, and dragging them all down into a conflict that would benefit no one.
"Why indeed," they agreed again, this time morosely as Jigano lifted his basket experimentally to try and catch a few sunbeams through the canopy above. "Ludo takes them in trade or as punishment... but that's more along the lines of sacrifice than need on Their part. I could perhaps understand if it took the memories, some sort of psychic sustenance, the improbable feeding on the intangible... but if it only wants them to be shared?" He shook his head, frown turned thoughtful. "I've never heard of anything like it."
The bard grinned at Deimos' discomfort at being called a poet, true as it was. He nodded, glad of the other man's agreement, though sympathetic with the impatience to do something more, faster, now that pulsed through all their veins. "I fear we've already earned a little more bad will from Delah," he murmured, glancing around as if expecting the warchief to appear again and berate them. "Just by staying as long as we have. But that's a risk we'll have to keep taking. She's already set herself against us - against anything new or changing in her kingdom, if I've guessed her type right - so while I don't think we should go out of our way to antagonize her further, our overtures towards peace will probably be more fertile if sown in other directions." He raised a curious brow at the man he sat with, considering his guarded terseness thoughtfully. "Or do you have other experiences that might guide our approach here?" He had conjecture based on observations and his conversation with Amalia the night before, but conjectures were all they were, after all. If Deimos had something else to bring to the table, he was not too proud to listen - at least, not given the seriousness of the situation.
"Why indeed," they agreed again, this time morosely as Jigano lifted his basket experimentally to try and catch a few sunbeams through the canopy above. "Ludo takes them in trade or as punishment... but that's more along the lines of sacrifice than need on Their part. I could perhaps understand if it took the memories, some sort of psychic sustenance, the improbable feeding on the intangible... but if it only wants them to be shared?" He shook his head, frown turned thoughtful. "I've never heard of anything like it."
The bard grinned at Deimos' discomfort at being called a poet, true as it was. He nodded, glad of the other man's agreement, though sympathetic with the impatience to do something more, faster, now that pulsed through all their veins. "I fear we've already earned a little more bad will from Delah," he murmured, glancing around as if expecting the warchief to appear again and berate them. "Just by staying as long as we have. But that's a risk we'll have to keep taking. She's already set herself against us - against anything new or changing in her kingdom, if I've guessed her type right - so while I don't think we should go out of our way to antagonize her further, our overtures towards peace will probably be more fertile if sown in other directions." He raised a curious brow at the man he sat with, considering his guarded terseness thoughtfully. "Or do you have other experiences that might guide our approach here?" He had conjecture based on observations and his conversation with Amalia the night before, but conjectures were all they were, after all. If Deimos had something else to bring to the table, he was not too proud to listen - at least, not given the seriousness of the situation.
