by tumblingdice » Mon Oct 14, 2013 4:57 pm
Meringered, the red-headed boy looks at you, then turns away. "Matvey," Pyotr scolds. "Say hello to our guest. This is my youngest son, Matvey," he offers in apology. "And his friend, his friend..."
"Boris!" the boy blurts out. "And I hate it here!" He gets up and storms out of the room. Another man gets up, scowling, preparing to give chase, but a girl in a mid-teens jumps to her feet, intervening. Some of you recognize them as the survivors you met from Segenyev, who Bizenghast led here to safety.
Taras gets up and goes looking for Tret.
OC: Sorry, Meringered, nothing personal. Kids, you know. The life of a refugee is a hard one for them.
Any other actions?
Get thee to the dungeon. Get thee to the dungeon forthwith. Pass not the barbican. Amass not 200 GP.