[PQ] school daze

LOREN

The old shopkeeper’s nostrils flared. ”Listen, girlie, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not interested in it. Get away from me and my wares, and good luck finding what you need elsewhere.” Indeed, the others manning stalls and shops had noticed the strange demi-god, and the word was rapidly spreading in the marketplace that Delphia was bad news as evidenced by the suspicious looks she was receiving from passerby.

Maybe Oliver should’ve been nicer to the mud, or maybe it had just been emboldened by the success from earlier, or maybe they were ascribing way too much agency to this stuff, but anyway, now both piles, the wood and the stone, were misbehaving. The stones were coming back in immediately after Oliver dropped them off and the wood scattered to the four corners of the room. Loren watched with a bemused expression on his face, but unfortunately had to stick to his own task of filling the holes in the outer wall.

Then Wessex was there, and between the bear, the Ascended, and Loren’s patience (or magic, or whatever), they made short work of the outer wall. ”Thanks.” He nodded at her. At her words, though, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ”Okay. Do we have enough stone?” Absentmindedly, he dismissed the bar.

Unfortunately, a group of men walked by, gossiping about that ‘weird pale skinned lady who talks about dead people’ and the Launceleyn rolled his eyes. ”If there’s not enough stone, mind helping Oliver? I should probably go...figure out what Delphia is up to. Worst case, I can figure out the wall later.” Shooting Wessex a slightly embarrassed look, the summoner turned to walk to the marketplace.

It didn’t take long to catch up to the old woman and the daughter of Mort. Seeing the chairs, and knowing how overwhelming the demi-gods could be, the Launceleyn put two and two together. Giving his most charming smile, Loren walked up to the pair. ”I’m very sorry about all this! I’m the one who needs the furniture.”

Sniffing, the shopkeeper turned up her nose. ”As I told your friend, my supplies of paint and wood are running low.” Still, there was a gleam in the old woman’s eye.

The summoner’s smile turned into a grin. ”I can make you new paints. In exchange for the furniture, of course.” As he waited for his response, he glanced over at Delphia, wondering how the daughter of Mort would respond to all this.

A beggar's book

outworths

a noble's blood