It took everything within her to not swear out loud in the middle of the street.
Even with all her experience with the merchants of Ul'dah, the ishgardian elite were a wholly different, and almost intolerable, beast. Signing the written agreement with a little more force then necessary, she gave the proper farewells and stormed away. Up numerous steps and foreign doors, she quickly retreated into her rented room, pulling the coat off.
“Blasted pig, may his ventures fail!†She hissed to the wall, before taking a deep calming breath and flopping back onto the goose feather mattress. Hand idly groping for her pack, Rhea managed to wriggle out her worn journal, flipping it open. Staring at her notes, her frown returned, thumb idly brushing over the dried ink.
“She who is kin to the mad Wyrm Nidhogg, long since slain by the righteous blades. The fallen dragon Ratatoskr…†She recited from memory. Closing her eyes, she remembered the fevered words of the old man. Just what drove him to be so… forward with beliefs that even the outsiders knew to be considered blasphemous to the Ishgardian City-state? She wasn’t honestly surprised when the Inquisitor and his guard appeared, but certainly seeing such a man be swayed by dew filled eyes and somewhat unbelievable innocent pleading. That girl certainly had the luck of the twelve, that or the man himself was not worth the Inquisitor’s effort. Whichever it was, Rhea was just glad that it apparently had not spread that she had been within the crowd.
Still, the name worried her. Why talk of elder dragons long since dead? For that matter, why was such beliefs so important that it would be passed on even behind the backs of the Clergy? If what this man was saying were true, then the most logical thing would have been for the Clergy to weave Ratatroskr’s name into their own books. There were too many unanswered questions.
“By the wanderer, why am I even concerned about the rantings of a man who may not be of sound mind?†Rhea asked the ceiling. ‘Because you’re curious.’ Her mind answered back. Tail tip thrashing, she growled. “Yes, well, it could just be a waste of time.â€
‘You do realize you are arguing with yourself?’
“…..mrgh.†Flopping an arm over her eyes, she sighed. No use arguing with herself, she’d just have to admit to herself. She’s curious. Knowledge that was lost or considered ‘covered up by the church’ would be a welcome addition to her book horde. Rolling over to her stomach, she sighed. Flipping the journal pages back a few, she stared at her schedule. Groping for a piece of graphite, she crossed out a name and circled another. “I suppose a trip to the new settlement in the Hinterlands will need to be pushed up.â€
Even with all her experience with the merchants of Ul'dah, the ishgardian elite were a wholly different, and almost intolerable, beast. Signing the written agreement with a little more force then necessary, she gave the proper farewells and stormed away. Up numerous steps and foreign doors, she quickly retreated into her rented room, pulling the coat off.
“Blasted pig, may his ventures fail!†She hissed to the wall, before taking a deep calming breath and flopping back onto the goose feather mattress. Hand idly groping for her pack, Rhea managed to wriggle out her worn journal, flipping it open. Staring at her notes, her frown returned, thumb idly brushing over the dried ink.
“She who is kin to the mad Wyrm Nidhogg, long since slain by the righteous blades. The fallen dragon Ratatoskr…†She recited from memory. Closing her eyes, she remembered the fevered words of the old man. Just what drove him to be so… forward with beliefs that even the outsiders knew to be considered blasphemous to the Ishgardian City-state? She wasn’t honestly surprised when the Inquisitor and his guard appeared, but certainly seeing such a man be swayed by dew filled eyes and somewhat unbelievable innocent pleading. That girl certainly had the luck of the twelve, that or the man himself was not worth the Inquisitor’s effort. Whichever it was, Rhea was just glad that it apparently had not spread that she had been within the crowd.
Still, the name worried her. Why talk of elder dragons long since dead? For that matter, why was such beliefs so important that it would be passed on even behind the backs of the Clergy? If what this man was saying were true, then the most logical thing would have been for the Clergy to weave Ratatroskr’s name into their own books. There were too many unanswered questions.
“By the wanderer, why am I even concerned about the rantings of a man who may not be of sound mind?†Rhea asked the ceiling. ‘Because you’re curious.’ Her mind answered back. Tail tip thrashing, she growled. “Yes, well, it could just be a waste of time.â€
‘You do realize you are arguing with yourself?’
“…..mrgh.†Flopping an arm over her eyes, she sighed. No use arguing with herself, she’d just have to admit to herself. She’s curious. Knowledge that was lost or considered ‘covered up by the church’ would be a welcome addition to her book horde. Rolling over to her stomach, she sighed. Flipping the journal pages back a few, she stared at her schedule. Groping for a piece of graphite, she crossed out a name and circled another. “I suppose a trip to the new settlement in the Hinterlands will need to be pushed up.â€
