"Once the Nightsong is found, he will have more time to devote toward teaching instead of having to give every adventurer with a pamphlet the time of day." Ignoring the fact that the portals at the top of the staircase weed out the ones grasping at straws. Rolan will be glad when Master Lorroakan has the relic, too, so he can stop bloody hearing about it. As for the situation at hand, he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in the temper he can feel boiling to the surface.
"They've reason not to, don't they?" Rolan doesn't need to elaborate, they're both aware of the carnage. Captive audience he may be, he's not above an uncharitable jab though it doesn't feel as good as he'd have liked. The mention of his siblings being used against him was a fear he'd not considered and the thought is enough to distract from his anger. His brow furrows in worry momentarily before he remembers where he's at and collects his expression to something more 'agreeable'.
The coin feels heavy in his hand, but it's the little roll of paper that is the searing weight. He's not fool enough to open it in the shop, but he discretely tucks it into the bracer at his wrist for later. Reaching under the counter, he retrieves two of the standard Potions of Healing, sliding them across to Zevlor.
"A wizard in a tower with a view of the street isn't much of a wizard at all." Most of the time, he can't see much of the square past the performers showboating in front of the fountain. They certainly draw a crowd, but he can't truly say he's noticed much outside of his own little world. Pathetic as that may be after clawing his way to get here. It's not as if he wants to be worked to the bone and spending what's left of his waking hours consuming whatever texts he can get his hands on if he's not at the mercy of Lorroakan's whims.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2024-08-27 08:17 pm (UTC)"They've reason not to, don't they?" Rolan doesn't need to elaborate, they're both aware of the carnage. Captive audience he may be, he's not above an uncharitable jab though it doesn't feel as good as he'd have liked. The mention of his siblings being used against him was a fear he'd not considered and the thought is enough to distract from his anger. His brow furrows in worry momentarily before he remembers where he's at and collects his expression to something more 'agreeable'.
The coin feels heavy in his hand, but it's the little roll of paper that is the searing weight. He's not fool enough to open it in the shop, but he discretely tucks it into the bracer at his wrist for later. Reaching under the counter, he retrieves two of the standard Potions of Healing, sliding them across to Zevlor.
"A wizard in a tower with a view of the street isn't much of a wizard at all." Most of the time, he can't see much of the square past the performers showboating in front of the fountain. They certainly draw a crowd, but he can't truly say he's noticed much outside of his own little world. Pathetic as that may be after clawing his way to get here. It's not as if he wants to be worked to the bone and spending what's left of his waking hours consuming whatever texts he can get his hands on if he's not at the mercy of Lorroakan's whims.