[h3]The Hunter's Dream[/h3]
“I can't say that I necessarily care a whole lot about stopping him myself,” Gerlinde shrugged, “but I am curious. I wonder what good seeking Harold's insights will do, though... or anything he says, really. You know about the nice old man-thing and how he hides some of his expressions, so you [I]know[/I] his entire thing is manipulation and deception. What makes you think even a fraction of what he has told us, let alone what he will tell us later, is true?”
Idly peeling her hair out of her cleavage and throwing it back over her shoulder, Gerlinde continued: “Don't get me wrong, if you want to go back I'll go with you, and if you want to kill the old geezer I'll help you do it... but if we do that, we'll make an enemy of the White Healing Church, and maybe the black church too. It's not a decision to be made lightly. Also...” She grinned. “It's fine that you can read his expressions, but I think I saw more than that. For instance, I bet you didn't see that big golden tentacle that shot out of the ground and shone a golden light at you at one point? You didn't seem to notice, at all. It was right before he told us to go to the Grand Cathedral.
Also...” she drawled, turning away and idly looking over the headstones scattered around the Dream, “last time Harold saw me I didn't look like this, but he recognized me instantly. And when he told us we could leave, he gestured at the golden lantern. Not in a 'in the general area'-sort of way, but [I]directly[/I] at the lantern. As if he could see it.”