Ignorance is Bliss

[Hart]

4th Ashan, 721
early morning

The labor warden was handing out assignments, and Hart was one of many in the crowd of prospective laborers. The labor company Hart had signed up with was harsh and relentless; at times, he believed it didn't mind if its laborers worked themselves until they broke. Hart had arrived at work on time the first day, then earlier the second day, then earlier the third day, and so on.

It was just after six in the morning, now; this was the time the laborers were meant to show up for work. Hart had been at the company for more than an hour and a half. Despite being almost two breaks early to work, he hadn't been the first laborer to arrive. There were a handful of others who'd arrived before him, and though he knew arriving early at work was important here, he didn't know if he'd be able to arrive earlier tomorrow than he had today.

He was worried about making a good impression.

The company's assessment of him was important, not only for his reputation in Egilrun as a hard worker, but because, if he worked hard, he might be afforded other opportunities. But the company was only impressed with those who did the most work, longest, for the least amount of pay. That meant arriving at work as early as possible. The laborers who arrived at work early were given jobs within the company itself, mostly paperwork, to do before their paid assignment for the day. Hart wouldn't be paid for the nearly two hours of extra work he'd done this morning; but that extra work might impress the labor warden, who was the one responsible for handing out assignments.

Hart didn't know how to impress the warden, if he hadn't been impressed by Hart's punctuality today.

He wanted to do well at work, and build a good reputation. He wanted to be well liked by his employers and build strong relationships with his coworkers. But Wren needed him, too.

Wren needed help preparing for school in the mornings; he needed someone to be there for him, to get him breakfast and reassure him, because Wren was afraid of going to school. Wren needed to be walked to school in the mornings, and he needed Hart to be standing outside the school when the bell rang in the afternoon. Multiple times Hart had missed lunch to go to the school to reassure Wren, because the teachers had alerted him that Wren was crying.

It was an adjustment for Wren to go to school, though it wasn't the learning that troubled him, because Wren liked to learn. It was the other kids. Wren said that the other kids didn't like him; his teachers said that Wren wouldn't speak to the others.

Hart didn't want Wren to be afraid of the other kids. But it was difficult to help him, because of the company. Hart was getting less sleep, eating less, working harder, and not getting paid for extra work. He needed time to be there for Wren; but the company wasn't in the business of time off. If the labor warden knew about Wren, he didn't mind that Wren was having difficulties, or that Hart was having difficulties both caring for Wren and working overtime.

Standing in the crowd of prospective laborers, Hart did believe that the company would work him until he broke. But until then, the labor warden handed him an assignment, and Hart said, "Thank you, sir." The knot of worry in his stomach loosened some. He had an assignment today; some laborers didn't get them.

Maybe he was impressing the warden after all.

Preparing himself for a full day's work, Hart let out a long, slow breath. Assignment in hand, he read as he walked out of the company building. The assignment was half a sheet of paper. It said: Order of the Adunih, the old Slave Pens. Hart hadn't known there was an Outpost in Egilrun. Once he was outside, he broke into a quick walk that was nearing a slow run. He needed to arrive at the Order as early as possible, to do whatever work they needed, to be able to leave in time to be standing outside the school in the afternoon.

Half out of breath by the time he arrived at the old Slave Pens, Hart stopped outside the doors for a moment, long enough to get his breath. He needed to look respectable. He walked into the building, stopping by the first person he saw. He was a man, taller than Hart and dark-haired. He was a member of the Order of Adunih, and Hart smiled at him.

"My name is Hart," he said, "I was assigned to the Order by my labor company." If the man wanted to see the assignment, Hart would hand it to him. It was the half sheet of paper from the labor warden. It said the assignment, location, and had a brief assessment of Hart, of his work history in Egilrun. It was signed by the labor warden. "Sorry that I'm early," Hart apologized. He was meant to be at the Outpost at seven. It wasn't even six thirty.

"If you'd like, we could begin early? Or, I could come back at seven?" It would be best for him if they began early. But, "Whatever's best for you," Hart said. He smiled again at the man. "I'm glad to help."

[Woe]

4th Ashan 721

Woe had slipped the ring of Paradigm off his finger, on returning from his induction into the Order, three days ago. He put it in the drawer, and promised himself he wouldn't put it on again, until he'd managed to sort out his sparks, once and for all. It wasn't easy knowing where his self began and the four entities within his soul began. He needed a reckoning. And he'd start, in three days. The day he was set to meet with Jan Khoro and the rest of his group to begin work on renovating the old Slave Pens.

In many ways it seemed to him as if he was clearing the detritus of his past, the dirty leavings of a life lived in ignorance to personal responsibility, ethics, and any sense of morality or decency. He learned so many things since then, since leaving Rynmere. Various teachers, each with their own agenda aimed at the same lopsided target that was Woe.

As he walked out the door that day, he left the food that Gloom had prepared for him on the table, where it lie. He didn't feel as if he'd earned it yet, and so deprived himself. As he opened the door, he made a conscious effort to calm his sparks, soothing them all, all three of the loudest. The Arcane Gaoler, the Umbral Arachnid, and the invasive groping spark of Empathy.

Thus he was more or less as he had been when he arrived at Etzos and Westguard, two arcs ago. Black of hair, with maybe a few grays here or there from the stresses of life. Although he was mortalborn, he'd been no stranger to using his power, and so it took a toll on his life force, draining his vitality. Idly, as he walked along the path to the southeastern part of town, he wondered if he would be a crotchedy old man before half a millenia passed, shaking his cane at the youths of the world and all the other annoying idjits.

A break of walking and he found himself before what had been the slave pens. A large pavilion-like structure, with several gabled rooves atop wooden structures. At the bottom of the structures, they were well founded with stone quarried around Slag's Deep. The Arcane Gaoler piqued at the thought of that inestimable prison, and what exquisite safeguards must lie in place there, while the Umbral Arachnid thought only of places where it might spread its web of runic traps.

The Empathy spark was silent in his mind, but he knew it was there, perhaps more than any of them. Threatening with its coiling threads to grope the nearest tangle of emotions. He wouldn't let it control him, however. Especially not today. This was his first assignment in the Order, where he'd be learning a little of this or that.

Jan Khoro was out front, while his blue cloaks were nowhere to be found. Woe lifted an eyebrow, as he approached, "Good morning, Master Jan. Where are the others?"

Jan turned to face Woe, with a smile in his eye. "Ahh, there he is. Soraia and the blue cloaks are assigned to other tasks today. I've arranged for you to do a very special first task. Something I think will be important to the future of the Order on this Island."

Woe rubbed his forehead, and shrugged. "Well, don't keep us in suspense, what is it?"

"We'll be doing physical activity. Nothing like moving the body to maintain one's health, and when we're done with that, I'll show you some simple lessons in applying salves to soothe body aches of overworked muscles..."

Woe stared at him a few moments, and shrugged. If it was in service to the order, then he was obliged to go along with it. Yet still, he did want to eventually learn how to become a healer. But for now he would follow the old man's lead.

It was then, that footsteps sounded from behind the two. A man, who appeared to bear several marks, approached them. Woe looked at his face, the lines drawn there, that he'd not seen in anyone before. Perhaps it was cosmetic. There were few enough marked people in the world, afterall... Yet...

He had the eyes, the puzzle eyes of an Attuner. Woe didn't let his surprise register on his face, however. As Jan welcomed him over, with a pat on the back, Woe accepted the papers on the Gold Cloaks' behalf. Woe looked them over. It appeared he was with a labor union? Were there other workers about, or just him...?

Jan answered his question for him, as he piped up, "This is our latest worker... or should I say earliest? None of the others have arrived just yet..."

Woe scratched his forehead briefly, wrinkling his brow before smiling thinly at Hart. "Well, Hart, I commend your work ethic... Shall we see what we're dealing with in there/ My name is Woe, by the way, Woe Morandi. We're just getting started on all of this today. But there has been at least some work done, before we start."

Woe waved him in, patting him on the shoulder if Hart would follow along.

The mage welcomed him into the new Order outpost of Egilrun. There, through the entrance to the large complex, a wide hall, flanked by an elevated stage on either side, extended all the way down for about a hundred yards. It was a huge space, truth be told, but Woe had expected no less for the price the Order paid for this place.

Woe glanced sidelong at Hart as he walked along, "Most of the furniture is gone, taken by the previous occupants... This used to be a Slave Pen complex, you see, where all the slaves were housed before they were emancipated by Faith Augustin." Woe sighed as he went along. "That means we won't have to clean up the dirty, rusty shackles left behind. They scrapped this place for most of the useable iron and resources before... going wherever the slave industry went when Slavery ended." Woe shrugged.

They had some time to get acquainted before work started, and so Woe turned to him. He looked into the other mage's witchmarked eyes, and wondered if he should bring up the fact that he knew what he was. Egilrun wasn't exactly friendly toward magekind. One of the reasons that Woe had to keep on a ring of Paradigm, between stretches of time where he soothed himself. It was a delicate balancing act, but he thought he'd evaded detection.

"So..." Woe paused, not very good at small talk. He wondered how this usually went, if he should share where he was from, talk about the weather, or share some gossip. "I'm new to the Island." Woe thought that was a good start as any.

"Yes, I arrived with my son in... mid Cylus? It's not a bad town, all told. Not as big as Scalvoris was when I landed, but..." Woe sighed.

Jan was walking down the way, toward where they stood. When he spotted the Master, Woe began picking up boxes, full of nondescript rags and clothing and other articles of minimal importance. They were to take them over back to the entrance, to be placed on pallets in a more or less organized fashion. "Well I guess it's never too early to start work then, Hart? Will you pick up one of those small crates, and follow me over to the entrance?"

Without waiting for him to confirm or not, he started walking back, with the box in his arms. Idly, he reached out to the other man, to his frequency. He wasn't sure if he wanted to invade his privacy like that, but he had to be sure who he was dealing with, if more sparks than just that of Attunement resided in his soul, it might be a problem for his own cover...

[Hart]

Woe introduced himself, and Hart smiled at him. The man commended his work ethic, and though Hart knew that the compliment was based only on the fact that he had arrived early to the assignment, his smile brightened. The labor warden wasn't the sort to compliment his workers. But Woe Morandi, of the Order of the Adunih, had complimented him, if only for being half an hour early. Hart had been working hard, and it felt good to be recognized.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Woe," Hart said, still smiling brightly at him.

"And you, as well," he said, to the man with the gold cloak. Hart knew Woe's name, but the gold cloak hadn't introduced himself. "Do you mind if I inquire your name?" he asked. It was good to know his employers' names, but more than that, it was polite.

Woe, looking at Hart's marks, would notice the mark of Gwelliph like a white embla, shining above his eyes. Vinyza shone in his hair, especially bright where the morning sun touched it. Bellinos, in contrast to the other two marks, stained his fingertips black like paint.

Woe led him into the building, and Hart listened while the man spoke, looking around at the large hall and at the stages to the sides of the room. It was well known that Faith Augustin had emanicapted the slaves in Scalvoris. Still, the brightness Hart had smiled with, outside, became dim, and then dark. Woe mentioned shackles, ...going wherever the slave industry went when slavery ended... and Hart said, "I wish they would've left them."

If Woe looked questioningly at him, he would say, "I know the shackles would've made our work more difficult. But I wish they would've left them. If the shackles were here, we'd at least know they weren't being used." Like Woe had said, "Wherever the slave industry went." He had implied that the slavers might have sold the shackles for iron, but Hart would have liked to know.

Woe turned to him, and Hart noticed him look at his eyes. There was a question there, and Hart, not realizing the man was looking specifically at his eyes, indicated the mark above them. "Gwelliph, of Pier and Pre," he said, conversationally. Then, because he'd said that much, he indicated his hair, dark now that they were out of the sun. "Vinyza, of Ymiden." He held one of his hands up. "Bellinos, of Vri."

If Woe had questions about the marks, Hart would answer. Otherwise, he looked back toward the room a moment, quiet, while Woe spoke.

"How have you liked Egilrun?" Hart inquired. The other man had said he had arrived in Cylus, and they began moving crates of cloth. Lifting a crate, Hart walked beside Woe. The crates weren't difficult to move, and Hart was glad. A crate just large enough to fit in his arms would have been heavy, had it contained metal.

Though again, Hart wished the slavers would have left the shackles behind.

Setting down the first crate, Hart walked back to get his second.

Allowing Woe time to speak if he wished, in order to respond to the question, Hart moved the second crate, then the third. When the other man had spoken Hart said, "It's been difficult for me in Egilrun, I admit. I haven't been here very long either. I have no residence, so I'm at the North End Lodge. With my son, as well," he said, in response to Woe saying he had a son.

"His name is Wren." Hart smiled for a moment. "He's seven. It's been difficult for him, too. Egilrun is his first time attending school with other children." Hart had homeschooled Wren when he was too young for proper schooling, and Magpie had afforded him many private tutors. "So he says he doesn't like school." Hart looked over at Woe. "If you don't mind me asking, how old is your son? Would he be in Wren's age group at school?"

Then he paused. "Sorry if I'm inquiring too much." He set down the crate at the front of the building, and walked again to the back.

There was so much cloth to move. Hart couldn't help but notice that it looked like clothing. How many people did the crates represent? Hart knew Faith; he didn't know her well, but he knew that she would have spared no expense to outfit the people with new clothing, and with all that they needed. She would have made sure they were cared for.

Still, Hart wished he knew what had become of the people who had been enslaved here. Had they lived here? He wasn't able to determine, looking around, what that might have looked like. Was there more to the building than this room?

"Wherever the slave industry went," he said quietly to himself, and then looked over at Woe, apologetic. "Sorry," he said. He searched Woe's expression, and the gold cloak's expression if he was near, for indication that he was speaking too much or saying the wrong things. He was aware that Woe and the gold cloak were his employers; no matter that Woe had complimented him, and offered small talk. Hart set down the next crate, and walked to the back.

However, if it seemed his employers didn't mind, he would say, "Do you think the metalworkers, in town, would know about the shackles?"

[Woe]

Jan Khoro tilted his head upward, beneath his straw hat that he so enjoyed wearing while at work. His blank expression turned into a bright smile as he regarded Hart, and crossed himself, ”Oh for shame! My name is Jan khoro. You are most welcome here with us, Hart!” So saying, the man slapped his hands together, and picked up a crate. ”Lots of things to move today! Let’s wait till a break or two to get to know each other better! I packed some fish pickled in the Lemon Messy’s famous watermelon lemon sauce for a lunch.” Jan kicked some debris out of his way as he plodded back along toward the large entrance.

Woe placed the clothing in a specific spot, the fourth cell down from the entrance, shoving it over toward the threshold. He turned to explain to Hart, ”We’ll sort them when we have more of them up there… but for now the clothing and any discarded rags will go there. We’ll see if we can recycle them for use by the Order, once we’ve assessed their quality. But first we have to gather specific crates of goods toward where they’re bound to go."

When Hart said he wished they would’ve left the shackles, Woe’s brow lifted. Perhaps he would’ve liked to attune to them? Woe wondered if that was what he meant, but then he reached into his tangle, with his Empathy spark. It was hard to read Hart, as he surveyed the man’s tangle. Yet he saw no signs of any tampering, by another mage or himself. It wasn’t likely that he was an Empath. And as his frequency became clear to Woe, he didn’t think he possessed any other spark that Woe himself knew of. Save for Attunement. This came as a mixed relief and concern. Relief because he wouldn’t have to deal with an exceptionally potent hostile. Concerning because it was possible he was working with the anti-magic factions in Egilrun, either as a bounty hunter or contractor. Yet, he was willing to give Hart the benefit of the doubt.

When Hart further explained his reaction to the shackles being missing, Woe ‘ahh’d’ and went about his business, gathering more crates. Hopefully Hart would pitch in with grabbing another for him, but if not… Woe wouldn’t hold it against the man. It wasn’t all his money that was going into the clean-up of the old Slave Pens. And he was glad to meet another mage, all things considered.

When Hart noticed that he was looking at his strange tattoos and marks, he began rattling off about who they belonged to. So he was a marked man. He blanked at the mention of Gwelliph, not knowing who Pier and Pre were himself. Nor had he ever heard of an Immortal known as Ymiden. Growing up a slave in Rynmere, under the Webspinner Erastus left him with spare education on other Immortals.

Yet when he mentioned Vri, and Bellinos, this Woe recognized. He’d met a priest of Vri in Ne’haer. The man had been kind and good enough for Woe’s liking, so he had nothing against those marked by Vri. Although he was vaguely aware that Sintra didn’t consider that particular Immortal a friend.

When he finished explaining his marks, Woe stared at him in his puzzle eyes, and lifted his brow, ”And how long have you been a mage” Woe asked, pointing vaguely in the direction of his eyes. ”You have the puzzle eyes of an attuner…” He whispered, hoping that there were no spies in the rafters listening in on them. Woe could be paranoid at the best of times.

He let the question hang on the air for a moment, and then proceeded to slide another crate over toward the fourth door down from the entrance.

The other mage went on to describe his son, and how he’d come to Egilrun. He also asked Woe if he liked it here, to which the man shrugged. He hadn’t seen enough to make a final judgment, he supposed.

”Wren? If he’s seven, he wouldn’t know my boy, I don’t think. Iago is about in his mid teens.” Woe stated. ”and you’re not inquiring or talking too much… It’s a good quality so long as you’re in the right company.” Whether he was or not, totally a matter of conjecture. But Woe thought he was alright and a safe person to confide in. At least, he was getting there.

”The other children aren’t nice to Wren?” Woe thought on that a moment. Was it because of his strange name? Woe didn’t know the circumstances. But then children could be cruel. He remembered his own childhood, when left to his own devices on errands for Erastus in the streets of Lowtown. There was real animosity from common folk toward those slaves, who were perceived to steal jobs from their fathers.

”Possible that if the shackles were recycled, they’d be recycled at the metalworkers. Yes. If they don’t know about them, likely they were transported elsewhere. Either to make a jail, or else… relocate.” Woe’s mouth twisted at the idea. Yet there was little he could do about it at this point, the change having been done a few arcs ago now.

[Hart]

Hart grinned at Jan Khoro, when the gold cloak smiled brightly. The man said they could converse over lunch and Hart said, "I'd like that." Jan Khoro got to work, and Hart found that he liked the man.

But there was a lot of work to do, and so Hart turned back to the crates. He lifted a crate from the back and, like he had been, he moved it to the front of the building, where they were setting the crates in what appeared to be a small room. He was neat about his work, setting the crates down in orderly lines, and stacking them if needed. He looked to Woe for guidance as to whether he was speaking too much as he worked,

speaking too much would make it seem like he wasn't working hard, and he wanted to work hard,

but Woe said he was alright. And you’re not inquiring or talking too much… It’s a good quality so long as you’re in the right company.

So long as you're in the right company, Hart thought pensively.

But Woe answered his questions, so Hart thought it must truly be alright. Woe said his son's name was Iago, and he was a teenager. "No, they wouldn't have met, I don't believe," Hart said. He lifted another crate, moving it to the room and setting it down neatly.

Then he said, walking to the back of the hall, "It would have been nice for them to meet, if they'd been around the same age." Iago was a teenager though. Wren wouldn't have minded meeting him, Hart thought, though Iago was much older; but would Iago want to meet a child? He sighed.

"It's not that they aren't nice to Wren," Hart said, when Woe asked. "Wren has difficulty making friends. He has difficulty knowing what to say, sometimes. Or maybe it's just that he doesn't feel he needs to say anything. I never thought to be worried." He'd thought Wren was just quiet. "But his teachers are worried about him."

It was possible the other kids were avoiding Wren, because they didn't know what to say to him, either.

Hart lifted another crate and walked to the front of the building. He set the crate down neatly, and was about to get another when he turned to look at Woe, confused.

"A mage?" he said, the confusion evident in his voice.

Hart searched Woe's expression for some explanation why he'd said what he'd said. But if there was an explanation, Hart wasn't able to find it. Though Woe had spoken quietly, his words had been stated with conviction. You have the puzzle eyes of an attuner... He'd stated the words simply, like they were fact.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Hart said, his voice low. Did he mean the lines in Hart's eyes? It was true that Hart's eyes looked different than they used to. They looked, to Hart, like they had been broken; they looked almost like glass that had been shattered, and glued back together. But the lines were subtle, and most people didn't notice.

He himself had noticed it in Ymiden, 720, not long after he'd come back to life. He'd assumed that the lines were there because his eyes had Fractured. Frowning, he went to lift another crate.

"I was blind," he said eventually, though unlike when he spoke about Wren, his voice was reserved. And he spoke low. "I don't like to speak about why." Dying; his hands tied behind his back; pain, pain; his eyes bleeding. Hart grimaced. "But my eyes were," Fractured, "broken. That must be what you mean?"

He moved to set the crate down, frowning.

If Hart was being honest, he didn't know much about magic. He had studied necromancy, once, and knew about the necromantic initation, and about necromantic thralls. But he didn't know about magic other than the basics of necromancy. Woe had assumed he was an attuner, but Hart didn't know what an attuner was.

He was silent for a while, working on moving the crates. He knew there was some discussion in Egilrun about mages. He knew, too, that the discussion was anti-mage. Hart had witnessed anti-mage sentiment in Rynmere; a young woman named Sara Dj'pyrj, as well as other mages, had been burned at the stake. Hart had been arrested at the Dj'pyrj mage burning. And in Melrath, though he had been dead in Melrath, he'd later learned that there had been some sort of prosecution of mages.

He wasn't sure how serious the anti-mage sentiment was in Egilrun. But, if possible, Hart would like to prevent it before mages were burned.

So long as you're in the right company, he thought again.

"Woe," Hart said, quiet. He set down the crate he was moving, neatly in line. "You said I was a mage." Would the man be angry at him, for speaking about it? Was he anti-mage, pro-mage, or ambivalent? "But you must know about the anti-mage sentiment in Egilrun." Hart walked back down the hall and lifted another crate. "I don't know the details," he said, his voice low and neutral. "But I'd like to know what you know, if you don't mind speaking about it."

empathy

In this post, Hart is

• worried about his job
• worried about Wren, and the worry about Wren is tied into guilt about Wren
• confused about being called a mage
• disturbed by memories of dying in Melrath, and there are lots of negative emotions that Hart doesn't acknowledge there, like guilt, anger, pain, grief, etc.
• worried about the anti-mage sentiment, and the worry about the mages is tied into a desire for them not to be hurt

Please dm if you have questions or want more detail!

[Woe]

Woe for the most part parsed his words carefully, beyond what he’d whispered to Hart about Attunement and Mages. He didn’t want to get into detail about mages, and the anti-mage sentiment, as he’d only started investigating it himself. He had plans to make good to the people of Egilrun, so they’d let him into their confidence, and learn the source and depth of their prejudice. Once that was determined, he could move from there. But it wouldn’t do to be cut off at the pass.

He was glad that Hart wasn’t babbling about magic and mages on the merest of mention. He was cautious, and seemed aware of the plight of mages here and perhaps even abroad. Woe thought he recognized a Rynmerish accent. Woe had a Lowtown accent himself, but he could tell and had met the more posh Rynmerish while living in that city. Hart sounded very much like them. Not that it was a bad thing. Woe had mixed dealings with the aristocracy.

They continued to work for a few breaks, with Hart talking a bit about his Wren’s issues at school, making friends and difficulty knowing what to say. In Woe’s opinion, although he was once much the same kind of child by all he was hearing, the boy needed to learn to relax while at school. Things often got easier once a child could get past verbal bullying, and turn it into a game of tit for tat.

Woe’s words, his assertion that Hart was a mage seemed to shock the man. His tone as he responded to it was full of anxiety and worry. Hart seemed a man who was full of worry and confusion. Worried about his job. Worried about his child and with some guilt associated with it. Confusion over Woe’s assertion that he was a mage. There were a flurry of threads that lay just beneath the surface, likely tied to memories of a previous experience or place he occupied. It all seemed to track with what Hart was saying. So the man in front of him was equal parts cautious and honest. That was an interesting and very valuable combination to find in a potential ally. And Woe did need allies in this investigation.

When Woe was able to determine that Hart was worried about the mages, it was then he solidified his perception of the other man.

Hart asked him about his saying he was a mage. And as soon as he began to get into it, Woe shook his head, ”Too many unfriendly ears, and voices carry in this place. The local workers will be arriving soon enough, and we can’t be seen to be talking about such things…” Here, Woe smiled encouragingly at Hart, and spoke in a low but soothing voice, ”If you would visit me at my home, I can have my friend Gloom serve you up some hot soup, and maybe a bit of tea. We can speak more openly there… Perhaps tomorrow, if Wren is able to come with you he can meet Iago.”

So saying he left it at that, and went back to work with Hart.

They continued to work into the breaks, and though Jan had offered to give them refreshment and company, when they took their lunch with him, he had to excuse himself prematurely, as one of the workers had gotten hurt. Woe almost thought to follow him, but was stayed by a look from Jan that encouraged him to stay and eat with Hart.

Finally, the day’s work came to a close, and Woe told Hart where his residence could be found, so they could meet later on, perhaps the next day, and discuss matters more frankly and openly. ”I hope to see you there. In the meantime, please be careful, and don’t mention any of what we spoke of, regarding the… you know.”

[Avalon]

Review Rewards

Woe

Name: Woe

Points awarded: 15xp
Magic xp: 5xp (For use of Attunement and Empathy)

Knowledge:
Interrogation: x 2
Appraisal: x 2
Persuasion: x 2
Psychology: x 2

Renown: 5 (for doing good work with the Order!)

Hart

Points awarded: 15

Knowledge:
Endurance: Working long hours
Endurance: Lifting and moving crates
Etiquette: Arriving at work early to impress your employers
Etiquette: Looking presentable for work
Etiquette: When to talk, and when to be quiet
Socialization: Introduce yourself, and inquire their name
Socialization: Interpreting spoken as well as unspoken cues
Investigation: Some information needs to be discussed in private

Non-Skill Knowledge:
Woe Morandi: a member of the Order of the Adunih
Woe Morandi: owns property in Egilrun
Jan Khoro: a Gold Cloak in the Order of the Adunih
Location: Egilrun
Location: The old slave pens in Egilrun / the new Order Outpost in Egilrun

Renown: 5 (for doing good work with the Order!)

Skill Review: All Skills used appropriate to level

Notes:
This is a great thread! As a reader, I'm not overly familiar with either of these characters so it was great to be gifted a thread that allowed me to delve into their thoughts and character a bit more!

Hart - As a writer, you really made me empathize with Hart's worries and anxiety about multiple things. He really is trying his best and all the while, feeling like it's not enough. He does verbalize those concerns, which surprised me a bit....but it was a good surprise!

Woe - A deep thinker, this one. I enjoy reading about his thought processes and how he comes to his conclusions. I appreciate, as a reader, how you write him. The character (to me) has a lot of compassion for others that he tends to (mostly) keep locked beneath the surface.

The interaction between these two characters is beautifully written. It's a bit of a game at first, each trying to figure the other out. I like how each leaves a positive impression on the other and look forward to future threads!

If you have any questions, comments, or concerns regarding this review, feel free to PM. Enjoy your rewards!

Avalon