The Summer heat makes it difficult for me to think straight. Anyone I'm writing with should expect regular delays on my end until the temperature goes down.
"Hey to you too." Skobeloff said in response to Coryn's words. "You did indeed see us at the lab earlier, we're in you're room because we followed Rudrick here, and Lazward is attacking your Creeping Violet because it is trying to steal his stone samples."
Those words and the feeling of Ulgad's paw on his shoulder pulled Fyodor from his wine once more. "I... I am better now." Fyodor said after another sip of wine. "...Forgive my outburst. I try to remember what you told me about Sigil being different. I try to remember that I shouldn't even care. But... the fangs..."
Fyodor took another, longer sip of his wine as he tried not to think about the memories that fangs dug up. Memories of the fangs that glinted in the dark of the night. Memories of the fangs that hounded him in the wake of that ill-fated siege. Memories of the fangs that one of his older brothers grew after killing their youngest brother and drinking his blood.
Fyodor tipped back his head and downed the rest of his wine just as Jarret had, then took up the pitcher and refilled his glass nearly to the brim.
Hopefully Charm managed to restock the shop after Brutrumukk swiped everything that was there under Trinket and Bauble's watch. If she hasn't... sorry about that. 😖
An annoyed grunt escaped Bartholomew's clenched teeth when Old Abbott disrupted his intimidating display. The old bandit did no more than that, annoyed though he was, since the innkeeper had brought him a formidable tankard and promised that food was on the way. Bartholomew took up the drink and drained a third of it in a matter of seconds. As he paused to lower the tankard and let out a satisfied "Ahh.", the aging Boggart felt a hand gently grip his shoulder. "You're slipping, Bartholomew." His wife's voice came low and concerned from beside him.
"We'll that is to be expected." Bartholomew said with a shrug of his free shoulder, too engrossed in his drink to be aware of the worry. "I'm getting on in my years, dear. I can't be fierce and frightening forever." He raised his tankard for another drink, but was stopped by one hand over his drink pushing it back down on the table and another hand on his chin turning his head to face the owner of the hands.
"That's not what I mean, my love." Marian said to her husband, the man now fully aware of his wife's concern. "You're slipping, Bartholomew."
Bartholomew took a moment to fully digest the true meaning of those words. Then he sighed and bowed his head in admission. "I suppose you're right." He said.
"Have you paid him a visit since you arrived?" Marian asked, something that caused both other Boggarts at the table to wince for reasons not readily apparent.
"I... No. I haven't. Not yet." Bartholomew said. "I was planning to go see him after breakfast."
"I'll come with you." Marian said as her hand left her husband's shoulder. "I've been meaning to visit him too, but I keep having trouble finding the time. Mouse ranching is busy work."
"I can imagi-" Was as far as Bartholomew was able to get before noticing the Lieutenant heading towards their table. "Does this fucking Fly have a death wish or something?" The old bandit growled in Hearthish.
Bartholomew felt the old urges rise up within him. Urges that only strengthened when his fight or flight instincts kicked in as D'Arcy started making accusations. Before he could do anything rash though, he was forced to shut one eye momentarily as a ray of sunlight glinted off his tankard and into his eye. That reminder of the tankard's presence further reminded Bartholomew that you didn't need anything too grand to throw off a show of saber rattling. And so he simply leaned over the side of the table, spat on the Fairy's boot, and returned to his drink as Artemisia began talking.
Bartholomew failed the Society Will roll and becomes Scared, but removes the condition by facing his fear with a show of absolute disrespect for the weight of D'Arcy's authority.
Regardless of the answer, Margerie would definitely have told Artie a few things about Bartholomew on the journey to the Entry Hall.
- He's quick to anger and grumpy by default. - He's casually racist towards Faeries and Sprites. - He developed a lot of bad habits in his younger days. And while he is trying to break them now, he is finding it very difficult to. - He is almost always completely penniless from a mix of charity and carousing.
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