The paladin’s footsteps were heavy as she approached the cell, her shoulders slack and the basket in her hand hanging low in front of her. Her gaze was bowed with troubled thoughts, the events of the day before still weighing heavily on her mind.
The deaths of the bandits and the Brass Blade, the heated words exchanged between she and Nero...it all still mired her thoughts in indignation and disquiet.
But what her memories always came to linger on, what pitted her insides and churned her stomach, was the tragic tale of the little girl’s death, the one that died with hopes in her heart, her innocent life crushed by the cruelty of Ul’dah.
“How do you know such horrors…?†Roen had asked. Nero had given her no answer.
Indeed, Nero Lazarov harbored deep wounds, and he had witnessed hardships that most were ignorant of, of this Roen now had no doubt. Such loss would twist anyone’s morals, rob them of their idealism, and skew their view of the world. She was beginning to understand the anger that drove the man. But it only cemented her own belief that she could not stand idly by and watch him throw himself into a darkness of his own making.
But she knew not how to go about helping him.
As the cell door was opened for her, the sight of the restless Roegadyn laying on the cot pulled her out of her bleak reverie. Roen mustered what cheerful smile she could for the First Mate, despite the heaviness that still pressed against her chest.
When the cell door locked behind her, the paladin turned her attention to the basket, busying her hands with its contents as she settled to a seat near the cot on the ground. “I brought you something else to read." She pulled it from the basket. "It is my own copy of the memoir I mentioned before. I could not find Mister Bellveil for another, but since I finished reading mine..." She shrugged. "I thought you could gain some amusement from it.†She lifted her voice as much as she could, consciously trying to remember some of the humorous tales. “And more parchment and ink.â€
Roen frowned, noting the stack of sketches in the corner. Daegsatz had been diligently drawing to pass the time. How many suns had it been that he has been in the gaols? She had not made any headway in trying to get him freed from the dungeons since Taeros had eluded his arrest. The paladin had pondered on what other avenues she could pursue, but her recent outing with the smuggler had torn her attention away from the Roegadyn’s plight.
The paladin bowed her head to hide her shame. “My apologies for…yesterday. It took longer than I thought.†Her words rang hollow, what forced buoyancy that accompanied her sentiments beginning to fade.
The deaths of the bandits and the Brass Blade, the heated words exchanged between she and Nero...it all still mired her thoughts in indignation and disquiet.
But what her memories always came to linger on, what pitted her insides and churned her stomach, was the tragic tale of the little girl’s death, the one that died with hopes in her heart, her innocent life crushed by the cruelty of Ul’dah.
“How do you know such horrors…?†Roen had asked. Nero had given her no answer.
Indeed, Nero Lazarov harbored deep wounds, and he had witnessed hardships that most were ignorant of, of this Roen now had no doubt. Such loss would twist anyone’s morals, rob them of their idealism, and skew their view of the world. She was beginning to understand the anger that drove the man. But it only cemented her own belief that she could not stand idly by and watch him throw himself into a darkness of his own making.
But she knew not how to go about helping him.
As the cell door was opened for her, the sight of the restless Roegadyn laying on the cot pulled her out of her bleak reverie. Roen mustered what cheerful smile she could for the First Mate, despite the heaviness that still pressed against her chest.
When the cell door locked behind her, the paladin turned her attention to the basket, busying her hands with its contents as she settled to a seat near the cot on the ground. “I brought you something else to read." She pulled it from the basket. "It is my own copy of the memoir I mentioned before. I could not find Mister Bellveil for another, but since I finished reading mine..." She shrugged. "I thought you could gain some amusement from it.†She lifted her voice as much as she could, consciously trying to remember some of the humorous tales. “And more parchment and ink.â€
Roen frowned, noting the stack of sketches in the corner. Daegsatz had been diligently drawing to pass the time. How many suns had it been that he has been in the gaols? She had not made any headway in trying to get him freed from the dungeons since Taeros had eluded his arrest. The paladin had pondered on what other avenues she could pursue, but her recent outing with the smuggler had torn her attention away from the Roegadyn’s plight.
The paladin bowed her head to hide her shame. “My apologies for…yesterday. It took longer than I thought.†Her words rang hollow, what forced buoyancy that accompanied her sentiments beginning to fade.
