Brecken
It makes sense now. Were Brecken a creature of premeditation rather than a creature of instinct, he might be angry with himself. Instead, he is merely surprised. It makes sense now. The more intellectual members of the Order would had handled this better. They would already have some kind of useful information. But — better late than never.
Brecken's eyebrows raise in answer to the stranger's conspiratorial whisper. "I see," he says. "That's, uh, pretty clever. What did you say your name was, again?" He is trying to think up what kind of information is useful to him, to his allies, and how he should go about extracting it. But Brecken is not a spy and he is not a scholar, and truly he was more comfortable a few minutes ago preparing to come to blows. "Maybe I can buy you a drink?"
Brecken's eyebrows raise in answer to the stranger's conspiratorial whisper. "I see," he says. "That's, uh, pretty clever. What did you say your name was, again?" He is trying to think up what kind of information is useful to him, to his allies, and how he should go about extracting it. But Brecken is not a spy and he is not a scholar, and truly he was more comfortable a few minutes ago preparing to come to blows. "Maybe I can buy you a drink?"
Real gods require blood.
