LOREN
The gourds kept coming en masse, and the hydra’s heads kept snapping and its feet kept stomping to deal with the horde. At this point Loren didn’t seem to have much to worry about beyond how long he could keep this spell going. Hopefully it would be long enough to deal with the last of the rogue squash, since the summoner hardly had any other tools to deal with them.A man approached, scrambling over a nearby wall without a hint of fear in his stride, but all the Launceleyn could do in response was spare him a tired glance. It was a stranger, thankfully: Loren couldn’t handle any more reunions. The other man was downright beautiful, and once upon a time the Launceleyn would’ve been embarrassed just to speak to him. But those days were long gone, and all the librarian felt was a dull ache and the driving need to make up for lost time and contribute everything he was for the greater good of the community. Indeed, he’d given up any hope for his own self and well-being. They weren’t worth anything.
The question almost made Loren laugh hysterically, but the emptiness inside sucked up the feeling, as it fed upon all of his emotions recently. “No. Certainly not. I’m an Abandoned, which means the Gods despise me.” And everyone else to, with good reason. He nodded towards the hydra. “I’m a summoner, which is where this fellow came from.” Loren patted the hydra's flank. There were precious few with that specific brand of magic in the Hollowed Grounds, but even so the question struck the librarian as quite ignorant. “Are you from around here?” It was much more polite than bluntly asking if the man was a recent transplant; it was rare for Loren to discover someone who might actually be more ignorant than the Launceleyn was. Of course, the librarian had no excuse for his lack of knowledge.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
