"A macaw?" he repeated, a flicker of bemused delight taking some of the weight from his own shoulders for a moment. He'd read of such birds, seen illustrations, but he'd never seen one. Not until now, at least, when Sunjata casually transformed into a brilliantly-colored, beautiful bird that was quite large, and possessed of a beak that looked quite business-like to boot. He grinned and toasted the bird before it became a man again, and took a closer look at the tattoos Sunjata mentioned, admiring the artistry in them.
"I've a little experience in that department, myself. I don't suppose you were around when Zariah was going around trying to convince everyone that she was a Queen?" he asked with a wry smile. "Could have used you with the rebels, if I'd known. So what did you do to piss off our current sharp-toothed tyrant?" An interesting conundrum. Wessex hadn't tried to curtail freedoms and force the barrierfolk to march in lockstep as Zariah had, but she had been going around murdering neighbors and allies and turning them into enemies and getting everyone kicked out of the Greatwood.
The mention of recruiting had the Provost sighing and nodding, toying with his glass as he felt the pleasant warmth of the whiskey stealing through him, loosening some of his control. "I'll ask the same of you, if you run across anyone asking a lot of questions and looking curious as ten cats. The Loreseekers are a shadow of what we once were," he admitted morosely. "There's only three of us left, after LongNight... and I'm afraid we'll be down to two before much longer." They desperately needed more members to keep afloat, but his reputation had turned in the past half year, and he was beginning to worry that he was becoming a detriment to his own guild.
"I've a little experience in that department, myself. I don't suppose you were around when Zariah was going around trying to convince everyone that she was a Queen?" he asked with a wry smile. "Could have used you with the rebels, if I'd known. So what did you do to piss off our current sharp-toothed tyrant?" An interesting conundrum. Wessex hadn't tried to curtail freedoms and force the barrierfolk to march in lockstep as Zariah had, but she had been going around murdering neighbors and allies and turning them into enemies and getting everyone kicked out of the Greatwood.
The mention of recruiting had the Provost sighing and nodding, toying with his glass as he felt the pleasant warmth of the whiskey stealing through him, loosening some of his control. "I'll ask the same of you, if you run across anyone asking a lot of questions and looking curious as ten cats. The Loreseekers are a shadow of what we once were," he admitted morosely. "There's only three of us left, after LongNight... and I'm afraid we'll be down to two before much longer." They desperately needed more members to keep afloat, but his reputation had turned in the past half year, and he was beginning to worry that he was becoming a detriment to his own guild.
