it's a beautiful lie
Neron follows into Whitebrim on the heels of Warden and General, glancing at the structures and wincing at the thought of all the work it would take to bring them up to par. It isn't something impossible, but he imagines the place will continue to hold a haunted sort of air long after it becomes a gaol, outpost and hunting lodge. "There certainly is a lot of potential," he says instead of voicing those feelings - because it's true, and it won't help anyone to make the place more eerie than it already is.
"Perhaps someone could approach Ludo, or Mort, and have them cleanse the area prior to building fresh," he suggests as a related, if not quite as obvious point. "It might make the going a little easier. Maybe a shrine could be built here in the future as well." Pausing to gaze into windows of hollow, empty buildings, Neron wrinkles his nose. "Not an overnight job, certainly."
"Perhaps someone could approach Ludo, or Mort, and have them cleanse the area prior to building fresh," he suggests as a related, if not quite as obvious point. "It might make the going a little easier. Maybe a shrine could be built here in the future as well." Pausing to gaze into windows of hollow, empty buildings, Neron wrinkles his nose. "Not an overnight job, certainly."
it's a perfect denial
such a beautiful lie to believe in
NERON
