Carpe Noctem

The Spire was silent around them, and even whispers carried in that black stillness, lit only by the white lantern. "A renegade and a criminal, just like me, for not answering that damned draft," Jigano agreed, a bit more cheer in his voice. He regretted many of the consequences that had come from that personal rebellion, but not the act itself. He snorted at the tentative question, glancing back with amusement that held an equal portion of pain. "No, and good riddance. I was king for a few hours only... and even then, it was just a name. A meaningless title." He sighed, heart squeezing sharply at the memory of his final conversation with Edrei. "Edy might have named me king to help handle her workload, but... she never meant that I was her equal. I was a fool for thinking that she had. In the end I was just a scapegoat to make her rule look more legitimate, but by accepting the title and trying to help her, I ended up being so sharp that I cut myself. At least I was able to pass the crown on to Ronin, though, however reluctant he was to take it if it meant working with Edy. And... Wessex." He grimaced, brow furrowing deeply as his dislike of the Ascended woman colored his tone. "Edrei named her Queen while I was getting chewed out by the rebels. Now... well. Now it's Wessex and Ronin in charge, I suppose." At least they were making things better, not worse, which was more than he could say would have been the case if he had remained bearing the title.

The door was an interruption to the conversation, but not an unwelcome one. The bard had lost his lockpicks during his travel between Numeria and Caido, and had never gotten around to replacing them. He regretted that now as he started going through his medical bag to find his suturing needles, wondering if he could modify them into lockpicks. It would depend on how complex the locks were, and they might have to come back later...

Sam surprised him with his assertive warning, and Jigano shifted out of the way, watching with interest - and then amazement as the Ascended bookmaker exerted a superhuman strength to pull the lock off the door. "You've been working out!" he complimented, only partially joking as stepped forward and rested a tentative hand on his friend's shoulder, giving it a congratulatory squeeze. "Well done!" Peering into the room, however, revealed a very exciting plain, empty little closet, where the Core might once have kept the cleaning supplies used to polish the stairs.

Would the Spire really contain something so mundane? The bard frowned, stepping across the threshold with his lantern and running his fingers lightly over the walls, pressing just hard enough to try and move any looser pieces of stone. "I suppose... after three hundred years, things might have rotted away?" He said, but there was a dubious note in his voice. He stepped back to make space and gestured for Sam to try if he wanted to, frowning a little in disappointment that his friend's splendid display of strength had only revealed so small a chamber.