Loren listened to Jigano speak about the Loreseekers, an odd mixture of rapt attention and deep sorrow etched on the Launceleyn’s features. When the bard finished speaking, the summoner was silent for a long few moments, trying to find his voice. ”That sounds wonderful. And noble.” And something Loren would have dearly loved to be a part of once upon a time. The longing was still there, but it was tempered by the knowledge that he was unwelcome, and rightly so, in most places and unwanted by most people. He gave the white-haired man a wistful smile, hoping the bard would understand, somehow, what Loren was feeling.
Thankfully, the Launceleyn’s explanation about his illness—and his actions—was accepted. Still, his relief was short-lived when Jigano implied that the only illness going around was, indeed, the blight. Loren shook his head at the other man’s question. ”No. I offered, but...the individual in question indicated that healing magic didn’t work. They would’ve had access to healers, so I trusted their judgment.” Although Ronin’s condition probably wasn’t private knowledge, the librarian didn’t know if he wanted news of his meeting with the king to get out. ”If you think that person was mistaken, though, I’m willing to give it a try.” Loren was willing to try pretty much anything at this point that might even have the smallest possibility of being helpful, no matter how dangerous or ill-advised it might be.
Apparently Jigano seemed convinced that Zariah would’ve held onto the keys. ”I don’t know for sure that she had them with her.” In retrospect, Loren realized his wording on that front had been ambiguous. The bard continued to offer up genuinely useful and interesting ideas: whatever else the white-haired man might be, he was clearly quite smart and creative. If Loren hadn’t been in such a sorry state, and their initial meeting hadn’t gone so terribly wrong, the Launceleyn might’ve even begun to hope they could be friends. ”We’d have to find them first, which Remi seemed to think would be the real problem, not getting through them. I’m sure we could make more but…” the librarian hesitated. ”I feel that if it were as simple as that Remi would’ve made one for me on the spot.” The alchemist had been all too willing to help Loren; indeed, the summoner had barely fended off the other man’s help, and only after promising to come find the alchemist if (when) the Launceleyn failed.
The suggestion from Jigano about barricading the doors was a good one. ”Agreed. Guess I’ll have to collect more wood than I was planning.” Loren was mostly speaking to himself at that point. There were an enormous number of tasks he needed to get through and not nearly enough time. Maybe he was spending too much time on the doors and not enough on getting the manor well and truly ready. If monsters came through Zariah’s hidey-holes, Loren would just have to be ready for that. To that end, perhaps the white-haired bard could give the librarian even more help. ”Can you describe the Spark Bird to me?” It was a total non-sequitur, but the Launceleyn’s mind was leaping ahead to LongNight.
Thankfully, the Launceleyn’s explanation about his illness—and his actions—was accepted. Still, his relief was short-lived when Jigano implied that the only illness going around was, indeed, the blight. Loren shook his head at the other man’s question. ”No. I offered, but...the individual in question indicated that healing magic didn’t work. They would’ve had access to healers, so I trusted their judgment.” Although Ronin’s condition probably wasn’t private knowledge, the librarian didn’t know if he wanted news of his meeting with the king to get out. ”If you think that person was mistaken, though, I’m willing to give it a try.” Loren was willing to try pretty much anything at this point that might even have the smallest possibility of being helpful, no matter how dangerous or ill-advised it might be.
Apparently Jigano seemed convinced that Zariah would’ve held onto the keys. ”I don’t know for sure that she had them with her.” In retrospect, Loren realized his wording on that front had been ambiguous. The bard continued to offer up genuinely useful and interesting ideas: whatever else the white-haired man might be, he was clearly quite smart and creative. If Loren hadn’t been in such a sorry state, and their initial meeting hadn’t gone so terribly wrong, the Launceleyn might’ve even begun to hope they could be friends. ”We’d have to find them first, which Remi seemed to think would be the real problem, not getting through them. I’m sure we could make more but…” the librarian hesitated. ”I feel that if it were as simple as that Remi would’ve made one for me on the spot.” The alchemist had been all too willing to help Loren; indeed, the summoner had barely fended off the other man’s help, and only after promising to come find the alchemist if (when) the Launceleyn failed.
The suggestion from Jigano about barricading the doors was a good one. ”Agreed. Guess I’ll have to collect more wood than I was planning.” Loren was mostly speaking to himself at that point. There were an enormous number of tasks he needed to get through and not nearly enough time. Maybe he was spending too much time on the doors and not enough on getting the manor well and truly ready. If monsters came through Zariah’s hidey-holes, Loren would just have to be ready for that. To that end, perhaps the white-haired bard could give the librarian even more help. ”Can you describe the Spark Bird to me?” It was a total non-sequitur, but the Launceleyn’s mind was leaping ahead to LongNight.
