They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Giving Oliver a confused look, Loren frowned a bit, and his brow furrowed. "Well, Zariah is the Archmage and runs the Arcane Academy, which I told you about. Ingrid is High Priestess. You'd have to talk to them to learn more about their roles." Shrugging, he gave his fellow hybrid an almost apologetic look.
Nodding along again and making encouraging sounds, the healer busied himself with pulling down a bowl and a spoon for the other man. "Sexy dancers? What kind of party is this?" The Launceleyn turned to face Oliver, a curious expression on Loren's features.
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrowed as the other hybrid brought up his encounter in Torchline. "Who? What happened?" The healer's eyes swept over the other man, as if the Launceleyn could assess the damage from here. However, he'd seen Oliver nearly naked, and the other man hadn't looked that injured.
Then his fellow hybrid mentioned the alchemist, and the Launceleyn's expression darkened. "I don't want to talk about Remi." There was something ugly in his eyes, and his voice came out as a warning. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he spooned some of the ever present meat stew into a bowl, placed a rough hunk of bread next to it, and passed both over to Oliver. Loren just poured himself a generous glass of the mulled cider.
Taking a long drink from it, he rolled the cup between his palms. "So your old home was tropical then?"
Nodding along again and making encouraging sounds, the healer busied himself with pulling down a bowl and a spoon for the other man. "Sexy dancers? What kind of party is this?" The Launceleyn turned to face Oliver, a curious expression on Loren's features.
Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrowed as the other hybrid brought up his encounter in Torchline. "Who? What happened?" The healer's eyes swept over the other man, as if the Launceleyn could assess the damage from here. However, he'd seen Oliver nearly naked, and the other man hadn't looked that injured.
Then his fellow hybrid mentioned the alchemist, and the Launceleyn's expression darkened. "I don't want to talk about Remi." There was something ugly in his eyes, and his voice came out as a warning. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he spooned some of the ever present meat stew into a bowl, placed a rough hunk of bread next to it, and passed both over to Oliver. Loren just poured himself a generous glass of the mulled cider.
Taking a long drink from it, he rolled the cup between his palms. "So your old home was tropical then?"
LOREN
