(For Esquie and Verso)

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus Wroot is not lonely. That would be absurd. If anything, he's surrounded by too many people, mostly gnomes, mostly deep gnomes, all of them clamoring for his attention and guidance and advice. He is the leader of a powerful laborer's guild, which is firmly in alliance with an equally powerful church, and he has the ear of Ravengard and all the other gentry. Not to mention their coin, any time he wants to undertake a project for them. Never in his life has demand for his attention been so high.

It feels so empty.

But maybe he's just tired. Burnout happens. He absolutely does not miss Wulbren. Good riddance.

Getting drunk, or even tipsy, is not his style, but he's skirting the line tonight, having had enough whiskey that his ears are ringing slightly. He's not so dazed he doesn't notice the strangeness of the two...men? Talking to the tavernkeeper. One is clearly human, but the other is bigger than an Orthon and the gnome gets distracted wondering how on earth they made it through the doors...

Comments

[amourpeint]

It had been a little while since they'd found their way here. Someplace outside the Canvas, someplace more... akin to what it had been before Aline had staked her claim and everything went to hell. Verso was still a bit at loose ends himself, but that was... a good thing, wasn't it? Renoir and Maelle had managed to get Aline out and keep her out, and while Maelle wasn't about to abandon the Canvas entirely, was willing to... work with Renoir to ensure she didn't follow her mother's example.

It was the best ending anyone could have hoped for. So it was likely little surprise that when Esquie had declared his want to go on a new adventure, that Verso had agreed readily. It was... nice, even.

Of course that didn't stop Esquie from being himself, and losing his rocks once again. Which had the pair in the tavern, Verso wearily explaining their need to the barkeep as his large rotund companion was lightly leaning one way then the other ever so gently, entertaining himself with... looking at the bottles on display? Admiring the paintings? It was hard to say. Just as hard as figuring out how he'd gotten inside. Even Verso wasn't sure. Better not to think about it too hard.

"Look, just..." A faint huff as he shook his head, hands splayed for the moment on the bartop. "We just need someone that's good at finding things. Rocks. Specific rocks. My friend here's lost his."