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--- sessions:worldbuilding:2020-04-25 [2022/12/21 00:26] – shyriath
+++ sessions:worldbuilding:2020-04-25 [2023/09/18 15:05] (current) – external edit 127.0.0.1
@@ Line 553: / Line 553: @@
 "I am told that Aadihash is a relatively recent city; the Citadel, by contrast, has existed in some form since at least the days of the Empire." Zadireth shrugged. "You can ask Oghwess about it when we stop at the refuge, if you're interested; she's a bit more acquainted with the history of the Citadel than I am."}}
+{{wst>pinkgothic|Demarath was, by quite many a measure, somewhat naive in his dealings with other takmar, having spent much of his life as a refrigerator, but something about Zadireth's answer made him identify it as a dodge. //Something// was being kept from the narrative.
+His scepticism was likely visible in his body language - he had made no effort to hide his emotions - but he did not press the matter, instead simply quietly filing away that his friendly guide might not be as friendly as assumed. It was only a small mark, the kind you might place on someone if you caught them on an almost inconsequential but obvious lie, but after the recent fight had done much to emotionally bind them together, it was the first thing to set them apart.
+Silent, accepting that it was all he was likely going to learn, he focussed instead on the journey ahead of them, letting his attention be consumed by the newest addition to their strange crew - Ferleth.
+She didn't give an impression of being interested in conversation for the time being. There was clearly a long history that needed to be digested, consequences that needed to be properly accepted, neither of which would accelerate if they spoke to her, but he started to form questions in mind - some easier to ask, others harder - that he might ask of her a little later, when she looked less lonely.
+That was what she looked like. Lonely. She was travelling with them, but it seemed rather like a physical thing, an automation.
+Given what she'd been through, it was perhaps not surprising that she didn't want emotional contact with much of anyone.
+The whole gamut of adrenaline, excitement and stress finally started to deconstruct in Demarath's body as he moved, dissipating out through his moving limbs. The motion helped. Slowly, the pent up tension gave way to a confused tiredness.
+What had just happened?
+It felt eerie, as though it were a story of someone else's adventure. He ran the battle and the negotiation with Ferleth and Librith through his mind's eye, but he didn't recognise himself in the scenes.
+A trace of Ferleth's stubborn loneliness infected him. He was far away from home. Although it had surely saved his life, he was running from some kind of definition of justice that he'd grown up with. Something expected. Something that was, to some degree, predictable. The battle had not been predictable. Ferleth had not been predictable. The change was exhilerating, but there had been so much, all at once, and for a few minutes, he felt afloat in some alternate universe.}}