"Maintaining the status quo, and trying to ignore the renovations at all hours of the night..."
He makes a sound halfway between a snort and a scoff. "Yeah, I could do without all the damn drilling and hammering when I'm trying to get some shut-eye," he agrees. "It's hard enough staying asleep here, for me. Dwarves don't dream where I'm from, we sleep like rocks." A pause, then, "Literally, like rocks--no connection to the Fade or anything. That's, uh, where human and elf souls go when they dream. Or when they die."
What a tangent. He looks momentarily abashed by it; hopefully Rutile won't take any of it as an insult. They're definitely among the most lively rocks that Kit has ever met. (Excluding a few particularly aggressive rock wraiths in the Deep Roads.)
When Rutile lowers their voice and brings up the obsidian stone from the wreckage of the Narrakra, however, Kit instinctively glances around the common room to make sure they're alone. He's not expressly sure why he feels the need to maintain some secrecy here, aside from his general mistrust of Aifaran authority... or authority figures in general. The forces of the Inquisition in Thedas had not left him well disposed towards powerful organizations meddling in the affairs of the little people (or in the affairs of the arcane, frankly). "It wasn't even really a burn," he admits quietly and looks down at his hand, which he shows to Rutile. The rash itself is hardly visible anymore, and there's no scar tissue left behind indicating a burn. "It was just... intense sensation, kind of."
He hesitates. Then, more quietly, "Do you still have the stone?"
no subject
He makes a sound halfway between a snort and a scoff. "Yeah, I could do without all the damn drilling and hammering when I'm trying to get some shut-eye," he agrees. "It's hard enough staying asleep here, for me. Dwarves don't dream where I'm from, we sleep like rocks." A pause, then, "Literally, like rocks--no connection to the Fade or anything. That's, uh, where human and elf souls go when they dream. Or when they die."
What a tangent. He looks momentarily abashed by it; hopefully Rutile won't take any of it as an insult. They're definitely among the most lively rocks that Kit has ever met. (Excluding a few particularly aggressive rock wraiths in the Deep Roads.)
When Rutile lowers their voice and brings up the obsidian stone from the wreckage of the Narrakra, however, Kit instinctively glances around the common room to make sure they're alone. He's not expressly sure why he feels the need to maintain some secrecy here, aside from his general mistrust of Aifaran authority... or authority figures in general. The forces of the Inquisition in Thedas had not left him well disposed towards powerful organizations meddling in the affairs of the little people (or in the affairs of the arcane, frankly). "It wasn't even really a burn," he admits quietly and looks down at his hand, which he shows to Rutile. The rash itself is hardly visible anymore, and there's no scar tissue left behind indicating a burn. "It was just... intense sensation, kind of."
He hesitates. Then, more quietly, "Do you still have the stone?"