"Thank you, Sam," he spoke warmly, glad that his friend was still as steadfast and true as ever. "For the moment, it's Amalia who is in charge, but... in truth, with as busy as things have been, I'm afraid no one has had much time for Guild business," he admitted with a hint of sadness in his smile. Having the Guild be interfered with by Zariah had been a cause for anger at first, and later disgust, but for all that Amalia's assumption of the Provost title had salvaged the organization from official censure it had caused more problems that would need to be dealt with soon, at a price the bard couldn't be certain of until he actually made his move.
His smile faltered at hearing how widespread the blight was now, the chill in his spine pooling uncomfortably in his gut. He considered Sam thoughtfully; his innocent enthusiasm and trusting nature, and the bard sighed, unsure of how to proceed with his friend. "Yes, quite a few people have been trying to understand it. What it is, where it came from, and how to stop it," he agreed soberly. "So far most of what we know is that it came from bringing down the barrier and releasing the Voice. And that it will likely kill the Greatwood within a year if we can't stop it... and quite possibly the Fae with it. Safrin has been infected with the blight as well, after entering the Spire to try and save a creature that was trapped in the basement of it, so... yes, Sam, the current evidence to the Blight being related to the Voice somehow. That she won't speak of it even to her children... is not a good sign." A deliberate attack to weaken the Fae, who were staunch adherents of the Old Gods? An accidental release of a project within the Spire she had been working on and failed to properly contain? A side effect of her existence warping the world around her as she moved beyond the confines of the barrier? Something else? He didn't know, but he didn't like the way the scraps and fragments of information were falling into place, and he liked even less if the goddess was using his friend as a pawn to harm others, even indirectly.
"I just hope you've been staying clear of the Fae village," he said, trying to find a wry smile for his friend. "We've only just been granted the freedom of the Wildwood again. I'd hate for it to be revoked because someone promptly went and broke the agreement so soon!"
His smile faltered at hearing how widespread the blight was now, the chill in his spine pooling uncomfortably in his gut. He considered Sam thoughtfully; his innocent enthusiasm and trusting nature, and the bard sighed, unsure of how to proceed with his friend. "Yes, quite a few people have been trying to understand it. What it is, where it came from, and how to stop it," he agreed soberly. "So far most of what we know is that it came from bringing down the barrier and releasing the Voice. And that it will likely kill the Greatwood within a year if we can't stop it... and quite possibly the Fae with it. Safrin has been infected with the blight as well, after entering the Spire to try and save a creature that was trapped in the basement of it, so... yes, Sam, the current evidence to the Blight being related to the Voice somehow. That she won't speak of it even to her children... is not a good sign." A deliberate attack to weaken the Fae, who were staunch adherents of the Old Gods? An accidental release of a project within the Spire she had been working on and failed to properly contain? A side effect of her existence warping the world around her as she moved beyond the confines of the barrier? Something else? He didn't know, but he didn't like the way the scraps and fragments of information were falling into place, and he liked even less if the goddess was using his friend as a pawn to harm others, even indirectly.
"I just hope you've been staying clear of the Fae village," he said, trying to find a wry smile for his friend. "We've only just been granted the freedom of the Wildwood again. I'd hate for it to be revoked because someone promptly went and broke the agreement so soon!"
