Subject: The Third(?) Telling
Author:
Posted on: 2016-06-27 15:10:00 UTC
It has been eight months and two weeks less one day since his last trip to Ydyff, and Thanasius Ampelius, Baron of Plort and lord of the Monastery of Spectacle, found himself increasingly restless. His trip to the Academian city of Is-really Lo wasn’t productive, to say the least; he shuddered at the thought. What’s more, since his return he seemed to do a lot of nothing.
His sorties against the Marizu were few and far between, none of them worthy of song; true, he defended the small town of Gett from a horde of raucous spirits, but it seemed that aside from him nobody in Plort knew about that town anyway.
He threw the blue-backed cards he was holding down on the table with an annoyed snort.
“The game is not to your liking?” his body-double asked, putting his cards down as well. Instead he picked up one of the small crystals used to indicate mana in that game and held it against the light; it sparkled.
“That is not the problem,” the monk said, staring across the room at nothing in particular. “‘Tis a good enough game. No, I believe the problem lies in me.”
“That is rather morose, even for you, milord.” Death Dendle put the crystal down and leaned on the table. “Revu for your thoughts?”
Thanasius shrugged. “I would not know. My sojourns in the woods of Kar-eer are few and far between, and sometimes I do not even place much hope by my planned trip to Academia. I am not satisfied. Restless, even. And it bothers me.”
“Friends,” Death Dendle declared.
“Beg pardon?”
“You should go and meet your friends. You have barely left this room ever since you’ve arrived at Borrd.” The body-double waved his hand around. “Go outside.”
“You are going to pester me until I will, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” Without further ado, the Baron got up, adjusted his hood and left the room.
((Thanks to Matt Cipher for betaing.))