“Well my friend. They'll work on some more food for you, some simple and plain fare that should be easy enough to digest. Now. I admit, the Crimson Church has changed a bit back in Radasanth - I was in the city not too long ago myself. What about your church, any recent upheavals? Maybe someone who looks like these folks’ damn pretty boy of a boss lurking around?” The mage snorted derisively and leaned against the wall.
“I'll say. Ever since that white haired prick started hanging around, everything we do has been focused on causing misery. Sabazios didn't use to be like that ya know. It was a fun church to be a part of, Lord Sabazios was dedicated to partying until you bled. Used to have these huge shindigs, lots of booze and women all the time. Then that bastard pretty boy godling - that's what he called himself anyway - came along, and that all changed.” The mage’s tone had grown extremely bitter at this point.
“No more parties for us, oh no. Everything was sunk into the Bounty Hunters guild, apparently searching for ways to hurt this place’s pretty boy. Lord Sabazios tried to stop him, claimed that departing from his sources of power were hurting him too much, but white hair didn't care. I don't know what he did to our Lord, but he forced Lord Sabazios to obey him. Some people tried to leave, but the white haired bastard said something about ‘ants only being useful while they worked’ and killed them. Now everyone listens to him, since he killed mage and normal people with the same amount of effort - none.” Nevin sat back, frowning. “Yeah, you see why I'm not too eager to go back to the Church. Even if it will get me to the big party thing happening out in Radasanth, I don't really want to go back to them.”
“I can certainly see why you want to stay away. But, wait, I thought you said that this white haired godling wanna be didn't let you have parties anymore?”
“Yeah. Don't know why he changed his mind but hey. They were planning it when… Well. When I was graciously invited to stay here at the white haired bastard’s expense.” Nevin copied the man as he spat to the side. “Said something about a new investment out there being weakly guarded compared to stuff in Raeria, and promised us that if we helped the raid we’d have all the beer we could drink. Something about a Celestial?” Nevin sat back as the man began nodding off, then he slowly tipped back against the wall, snoring as he slept. The alchemist stood up and brushed off his pants before walking over to Stare.
“He’ll wake up in a couple of hours, and won't remember this.”
Godling. The word burned in her mind. Stare kept glaring at the man, considering the details of the white hair and the arrogance. That pure white hair was a family trait - even Ventrua, Vitruvion's loyal half sister, had it. It had to be another half child of Ansaldo, somehow come to Althanas.
