KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Sunjata wasn't all that much of a storyteller, if Korbin was any judge of such matters. The words were bit stilted and disjointed. But the fodder was there, the makings of a song if ever he'd heard one.
"I was still a young kid when I attuned, I don't really remember any of it," he confided. "Your way is far more memorable, I dare say. She sounds like a kind mistress... Call me a cynic though, is that really all there is? Having the favor of a divinity usually comes with a price, or I don't know my own stories."
His raised brow was an urging to go on, to tell him more. When the drinks were set down in front of him, Korbin pushed one over to Sunjata, whether he'd finished the current glass or not.
"I was still a young kid when I attuned, I don't really remember any of it," he confided. "Your way is far more memorable, I dare say. She sounds like a kind mistress... Call me a cynic though, is that really all there is? Having the favor of a divinity usually comes with a price, or I don't know my own stories."
His raised brow was an urging to go on, to tell him more. When the drinks were set down in front of him, Korbin pushed one over to Sunjata, whether he'd finished the current glass or not.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
