Chapter 7: Unconscious Revelations

[Dave W.]

"With respect Varna, and no unearned insult intended to our host," Adamant nods to Castar, "but your examples are incorrect. The king may execute an innocent with no worldly redress, but there is still Justice. If it can not be meted out by the diligent here in this world, then it becomes the province of the gods to see it done."

"I'm sure someone as obviously experienced as a gnome of the Boromar family will understand that no matter how far you rise or how powerful you become, there are always Higher Powers."

"But that is Theology, perhaps not the topic we are here to discuss. I am called Adamant, a humble protector of these exceptional creatures," he concludes, waving a heavily plated arm to include the group.

[Joe]

Streko steps close to his sister and takes her hand. "You, sir, have both given my sister refuge and encouraged her to commit crimes. I respect you and the Boromar clan for the one, and despise you for the other."

He squeezes Varna's hand and offers a slight, but telling smile. "Having said that, it is certainly not my place, or even within the realms of my abilities, to tell Varna to do anything she doesn't wish to do. It IS my place and CERTAINLY within the realms of my abilities, to support her in every way possible, regardless of my personal philosophies or beliefs.

"Respect is earned, not given freely, despite reputation. Only family deserves the right to be respected and loved unconditionally. Varna is of my blood, but these people are as much my family. THEY have my unconditional respect and trust. It would be foolish to expect such things to simply be because a stranger says so, wouldn't you agree?

"However," he says placing both hands before him, palms up and open, inviting, "I will offer that trust to you, as my sister's instincts have never seemingly led her astray.

"Except in that Malov incident, which we shall not discuss any further," he mutters softly to himself.

[Jeff]

Kal:

"Varna obviously brought us here for a reason, which means either she needs something of you or you need something of us. Either way, we are here which means we are listening....So what do you need?"

"Want you to do?" The gnome repeats, amusement in his tone. "I didn't summon you here. I need nothing from you." He looks to Varna. "Or did they need something from us?"

Adamant:

"With respect Varna, and no unearned insult intended to our host...but your examples are incorrect. The king may execute an innocent with no worldly redress, but there is still Justice. If it can not be meted out by the diligent here in this world, then it becomes the province of the gods to see it done."

Castar regards Adamant silently for a moment, then smiles patronizingly. "Yes," he says quietly, "I am quite sure House Cannith had really intended to create a race of metal-clad theologians."

Streko:

"However," he says placing both hands before him, palms up and open, inviting, "I will offer that trust to you, as my sister's instincts have never seemingly led her astray.

The gnome inclines his head respectfully to Streko. "Not with us, dear boy. Her instincts are remarkable, as are your own, it seems. You are welcome here."

Belarin:

"'Men of action' should still want to have a drink when introductions are being made," mutters Belarin.

The gnome makes no motion of acknowledgement to Belarin's statement. Belarin feels that Castar is no warrior, but an expert in information. He's not sure where the gnome fits into a crime organization run by halflings, but he suspects he's pivotal. He doesn't think he's speaking any lies at this time, but he's fairly sure Castar certainly uses them in his line of work.

Condign:

Uncomfortable with having the entire group gathered in one spot--a decidedly tactical disadvantage--he uses the ruse to spread out their numbers and familiarize himself with the room's layout.

The gnome's eyes follow the tiefling as he walks. Condign lets his peripheral vision study his surroundings discreetly. Five of the eight sides of the octagon-shaped chamber look out upon rooftops and streets, while two touch walls that have eight. It seems to Condign the only exits are the stairs by which you already entered, the door on the east wall near the entrance, and the windows. Syrdan, hardly even looking, spots the outlines of a trap door in the floor, and one above. Neither look frequently used, though.

Varna walks over to stand closer to the gnome. "Caster...Daask is getting bolder."

Castar frowns. "How so?"

"Rejda showed his ugly face right outside my mother's restaurant in the Kitchen. We"—she gestures at your group, especially Condign and Syrdan—"scared him off. But it won't last. Boromar has kept scum out of Olladra's Kitchen for a long while now, but we're stretched too thin to deal with Daak at each and every time."

"Yes, that is precisely the problem." Castar presses a finger to his temple and sighs.

Varna turns to your group. "I didn't bring you here for anything more than to show you my affiliation. To...come clean. Boromars are part of this city, and whether you approve or not, they keep things a hell of a lot safer."

Castar sighs. "Varna...have they not already heard of us? They know nothing?"

She smiles awkwardly. "Except for my brother, and Adamant here, they're new here. But Castar, you can trust them. I've been through some interesting places in the last couple of days, and I've seen what they can do."

The gnome rubs his eyes for a moment, looking more tired than ever. Then he looks your way. "Very well. In the interest of time, I'll be brief."

He looks to Kal. "Men of action, you say. Perhaps you are. I am not. You are accustomed to fields of battle, uniformed armies and a visible hierarchy. Many think we are now in an age of peace, with the Treaty of Thronehold signed and royals exchanged in the interests of diplomacy. "

Castar speaks now to your group as a whole. "But war is perpetual in Sharn, and the interests of all nations and freedoms are at work here. More blood soaks into the streets of Dura than the soil of the Crying Fields in Aundair. These struggles are fought with gold and steel. The commonfolk never see the borders change, and they might not even know when a king falls in battle.

"The reason I believe your friend Varna here has brought you here is because she thinks it wise for you to learn about the generals and the soldiers fighting the shadow war. In that, the Boromar Clan is the oldest of armies."

"Like it or not, this city would be a roiling soup of chaos without the the Boromars. It certainly was in the past. Gangs and factions would spill more innocent blood than you can imagine. But we've cleaned up the streets, not polluted them. 'Common criminals rob and kill, and all we ask is a little gold and respect in return.'" The gnome smiles. "Violence is bad for business. That is not our way."

He pauses. "I won't lecture you. I don't have time. What I do need to know is, are you going to be a problem for us?" Castar looks to Streko. "When you leave here, will you run off to the Watch and tell them your sister is trafficking with outlaws?" To Adamant: "Will you inform the local priest of the Sovereign Host?" To the rest: "Will you lead someone back to this very place or speak of what you've seen?"

Castar smiles, though it is a weary one, as if he's not the slightest bit concerned of any of that.

Varna opens her mouth, about to speak on your behalf. Castar silences her with a gesture. "Let them speak."

[Mike]

Syrdan notes the trapdoors in the floor and the ceiling, but doesn't say anything or call attention to either.

The elf stands mostly towards the back of his companions, occasionally moving back and forth to catch a better glimpse of Varna and Castar. He studies their faces as they speak, trying to discern if their words ring of truth.

Syrdan's lip noticeably curls in disdain as the phrase "crime is relative" is spoken. He begins to say something, but stops himself, knowing his words on the matter will produce nothing but trouble. However, he clearly looks annoyed, and each word spoken by Varna and Castar has him glancing more frequently to the stairs.

I remember now why I avoid cities, Syrdan thinks. They're filled with filth.

[Dave W.]

"I am reluctant to make promises for your future actions. But I will say that in my, admittedly limited, experience the function of the Watch appears to be to contain problems away from certain districts, not to solve them. If you were to do something despicable, it would not occur to me to involve the Watch."

"Nor do I have close relations with the local church, though the fault there is mine. It strikes a place in me that is... sad."

Adamant appears to be considering how to proceed from that point. "I do not understand the working of this city, but I am sworn to protect the people of High Walls, the Tavvens, and my friends here. These oaths are my first consideration."

"I can offer you that I would be very reluctant to move against you if it would expose Varna or endanger the Tavvens. The elder Tavvens are among the best beings I have met in my short years, I would feel dishonored if something I did caused them harm."

"I'm not sure I can offer you more than that; is it enough?"

[Ken]

"I don't plan to say anything," says Belarin, still fidgeting with his earlobe. "Certainly not to the authorities. I've worked in the shadows enough times to appreciate that many valuable tasks are accomplished by people who are not, harumph, men of action."

[Brian]

Condign completes his circuit around the room and comes to a stop next to Kalarian. He'd been carefully listening to Castar's self-serving soliloquy.

With a slight bow, he says: "You claim that without your intervention, this city would revert to bloody rebellion and chaos. That may be true. I have not been in your city long enough to measure the truth of your words.

"You name yourselves the city's oldest army, which would follow you hold the highest ranks. I have heard similar arguments in Fah'lrrg, propagated by the privileged to maintain their hold on power.

"I suspect your family profits the most from these "noble actions" that keep the unsavory elements of the city in check. You are in it for the money--no more, no less. So please drop the pretense at altruism.

"Will I cause you any problems? Not if your actions do not endanger my friends or the ones they love. I have no interest in your city politics. Nor will I aid you in your efforts unless it will save the life of one of these who stand before you.

"From me, you are safe."

Condign steps back to stand next to Belarin. "Let them chew on that 'child of savages' speech," he says with a grin.

[Dave W.]

Aug 17, 2010 20:26:10 GMT -4 Brian said:

Condign steps back to stand next to Belarin. "Let them chew on that 'child of savages' speech," he says with a grin.

Adamant looks over at Condign and gives a an approving nod at the last bit.
-------------
nice, you go... er, tiefling?

[Jeff]

"You are loyal, master warforged," Castar says with a smile, then looks to Varna. "He is very loyal to you. One cannot purchase that kind of loyalty." His eyes shift back to Adamant. "But it also makes you easily manipulated. Be careful of that. Still, you speak correctly. The Watch merely shuffles responsibility around, nothing more. They excel at keeping undesirables out, and little else."

He looks at Condign. "That was a long-winded response for such a simple question. I've known only a few tieflings, and not many among them spoke so eloquently. But your ire is misplaced." His weary smile returns. "As is your assumption. The Boromar Clan is my affiliation, not my kinsmen. Call me a friend of the family, if you wish. You may not have noticed, but I am of Zil origin, not Talentan." He swipes a stray lock of his gnomish-spikey hair back behind one pointed ear.

When Castar stops speaking, Varna looks to Belarin. "Belarin, Castar knows the best places to get...papers. He's your man."

Castar shrugs. "My cousin is from House Sivis. Uses his mark to notarize off the books sometimes. Exclusively for Boromar contacts, of course."


________________________

By the way, this is gnome-spikey hair; it's the 4E gnome design, which I happen to really like. It's very fey.

[Darren]

Kal pushes up his sleeve, exposing his dragonmark, and folds his arms. He stares at Castar, weighing him. "Deneith is founded upon mercenary contracts. I prefer to think that the work we do is often for the greater good, but in truth, as long as the gold is good, we do what we're asked. So, Master Zil, if you help the people of this city and keep a bit for yourself for the trouble, I understand the business. I can only hope that you don't cross the line too often." Kal thinks back to his tenure in the camps on the Talenta Plains during the war. "I don't like to see the innocent taken advantage of," he says sadly.

Kalarian looks through Castar for a moment, then draws a deep breath and unfolds his arms. The conversation has moved on for him. "Okay, so you didn't bring us here, and Varna claims it was only to make introductions. Now we know each other, so the next question is, how do we make this relationship equitable to both of us? I can't imagine that a person in your unique position hasn't started thinking, from the moment you walked into this room, how people in our unique position could be of use to you..."

[Joe]

Castar looks to Streko. "When you leave here, will you run off to the Watch and tell them your sister is trafficking with outlaws?"

Streko's brows furrow. "For a Gnome, you seem to lack even decent, rudimentary information. However, for Varna's sake, I won't take your question as a personal insult. Olladra is Mistress of Fortune. Not Loose Tongues."

He glances at Kalarian...then at Belarin. "Not a word from either of you!"

He turns to Varna. "His feeble questioning of my integrity concerning you tells me much more of him than I suspect he would care for me to know." And then, a final turn back to Castar. "Spending so much time in the shadows has made you sloppy, gnome.

To his friends: "Why is it that gnomes, of all creatures, give me the greatest headaches? Could someone please answer that?"

A brief pause...then, "Nevermind. I have no need to know the answer to that question. No need whatsoever."

To Varna, quietly: "I would never betray your trust, my sister. I hope you know that beyond any doubt."

[Ken]

Aug 17, 2010 21:00:31 GMT -4 Jeff said:

When Castar stops speaking, Varna looks to Belarin. "Belarin, Castar knows the best places to get...papers. He's your man."

"That's what I had hoped," says Belarin. "Thank you, Varna." Belarin inclines his head toward Castar. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

After Streko's outburst, Belarin raises one eyebrow and says, "Now, now. Let's not get carried away here. Honestly, Castar is right to pose the question. The public portrayal of some of us - yes, thanks to that OTHER gnome - could make someone in Castar's position worried that a overt 'virtuousness' on our part could lead us to make rash decisions. It's hard to impugn someone's character when you don't know them."

[Mike]

Syrdan listens quietly to his companions speak, his arms folded across his chest.

Finally, he looks up at Castar.

"You say you are an army in a shadow war," the elf says to the gnome. "Who is your enemy, then? Who do you fight?"

[Jeff]

Castar raises an eyebrow at Streko's words almost at the same time as Belarin. Varna, meanwhile, winces. The gnome fixes Streko with a cold stare for only a moment, then looks between Kal and Belarin. "Racism is an unfortunate side effect of our society, but what can you do?"

"At any given time, there are at least a dozen things that need doing, and a well-armed group such as yours"—he glances at Kal's sharash and Adamant—"not directly affiliated with our organization might be the ideal 'men of action' to do it. But I'm not seeking to hire you for any such task. I wasn't even aware of you until now."

Varna nods. "I didn't realize you would be here, Castar. I apologize for the uncertainty of my friends. But the fault is mine; I didn't really prepare them for coming here—"

Just then there is a rush of air, a leathery creak of wings, and a shadow passes in front of some of the windows—

A large winged shape fills the window, perching on a thick protrusion of wood: a birdlike reptile with a long, toothy beak, a thin headcrest, sharp talons, and small claws at the joints of its wings. The beast's eyes are large and yellow, and its scaly skin sprouts small tufts of downy feathers. A glidewing, nice and close. It cocks its head and seems to eye Tangat.

Climbing down off the reptile's back is a halfling who looks like he's freshly touched down from the Talenta Plains. For a halfling, he's quite burly, and stands almost a foot taller than Streko. A brightly-painted hunting mask hangs like an ornamental collar around his neck, laying flat against his chest. He wears only a thin, open leather vest and leggings, making his well-muscled frame obvious. A knife of bone is strapped around his waist, and in one hand he holds a short haft topped with a curved, almost scimitar-like blade: a tangat. Bound to his right arm is a curving piece of wood sharpened on most sides. Kal recognizes this as a boomerang, a projectile weapon that, when used properly, returns to its thrower.

The halfling steps down into the room, taking the measure of everyone in it with the eyes of a predator. He looks dangerous. To Condign, there's something about the way he carries himself reminiscent of the barbarians of the Carrion Tribes—though of course this halfling is much cleaner, if a bit sweaty, and he doesn't have the expression of bloodthirsty fanaticism like the humans of Fah'lrrg. His face is handsome but brooding, and his dark hair is pulled back into a long braid behind his back.

The halfling gestures, and the glidewing lets out a shrill cry and takes to the air again.

"Halak," Varna says with something like a shy smile. "There you are."

Halak strides forward, eyes raking across every one of you taller than a halfling or gnome. "What do they want?" he says to her, his Talentan very thick and suspicion in his tone.

"Oh, they're just...umm," Varna starts, her eyes fixed on the other halfling. She looks back at Streko, expression blank. Then she snaps out of it. "My brother! This is my brother, Streko. And these are his companions, who I have been trying to bring into the fold....just a tiny bit. That is..." She reddens, and Halak looks at her with a slight smirk. His eyes also stray for a moment up and down her own leather-clad body.

Varna finds her voice again. "Adamant is the warforged, a friend of my family's and protector of High Walls." The name seems to mean nothing to Halak. "That is Lord Kalarian d'Deneith, of Sentinel Tower." Halak meets Kal's eyes, and there is some challenge there. "This is Belarin Malizia, a mage of...the fey." The halfling barbarian's brows come together. "Syrdan is the elf, a warrior-priest of his people. And...Condign, warrior of the Demon Wastes...but no demon himself."

Varna blinks. "Ohh. This is Halak Boromar. Cousin of... Well, he's only newly arrived from the Plains."

[Ken]

"Well met, Halak Boromar," says Belarin. "That's an impressive steed." Then he glances at Kal, who - like him - couldn't have missed the tell-tale signs of lust and attraction between Varna and Halak. "Deep breaths," he says to Kal softly.

He looks back to Castar and says, "I'm sure that, now that you do know of our presence and where to reach us, you'll be in touch should an interesting project come to mind." Belarin is trying to hasten this conversation's end, before more inflammatory words are exchanged. "As Varna said, I'd like to discuss business with you, which we can do at a time of your convenience." The "twitchiness" of his earlier demeanor has completely faded.

[Brian]

"My lord Halak," Condign says with a bow. "I must apologize. I did not hear the end of Varna's introduction. You are the cousin of . . . whom?"

[Mike]

Syrdan shrugs at the gnome's lack of response. No matter, the elf thinks, it's nothing I won't be able to find out for myself later anyway.

He ignores the halfling newcomer, and looks back once more to the way they all entered. He briefly considers taking more of an appraisal of the flying beast, but quickly abandons that.

And Varna wants to lead me into the home of my people ... after this? he thinks wryly. There will have to be a serious conversation taking place before that happens ....

[Jeff]

Halak narrows his eyes at Condign, then looks to Varna. "This is joke?" Clearly he is more accustomed to speaking in the Halfling tongue.

"He means it respectfully," Varna says in their language, which of course only Kal and Streko understand. "To Condign, 'lord' is just a term of respect. A title."

At Belarin's remarks, Halak nods stiffly, acknowledging the words but not addressing them.

Syrdan:

"You say you are an army in a shadow war," the elf says to the gnome. "Who is your enemy, then? Who do you fight?"

Castar waits so as not to speak over anyone else. To Syrdan he quietly responds, "There are and have been many. The forces who struggle for dominion on Khorvaire do not merely go by the names Breland, Aundair, Thrane, and Karrnath these days. It may surprise you who pulls the strings. On the streets of this city, our aims aren't political, but they are of business and community." The gnome pauses, then continues, seeming to speak to Kal as much as to Syrdan. "Despite what your red friend thinks, we do have the interests of the people at heart; and yes, we do intend to profit as we help them. That is the closest anyone gets to altruism. The true meaning of the word is a myth."

"Lately it is Daask I am most concerned with. An organization of thugs, with roots in Droaam, stronger in muscle than Boromar and becoming quite the nuisance on our streets. They haven't the brains to last, but the damage they can cause before extinction is all I worry about these days."

Varna, hearing this conversation, joins in. "The gnolls outside my mother's place, they were with Daask. They know that Boromar protects Olladra's Kitchen, but they're getting bolder."

"Daask," Halak spits. "They have taken shipment." Frustrated by the Common words, he switches to Halfling and looks to Varna and Castar. "I've just come from the Stores. A group of stinking gnolls, six of them, seized a shipment that just came in. Had a filthy troll with them. Killed the ship's captain but they just took the box and holed up. Two gnolls dead, two of ours wounded, but no casualties. Came to tell you first, Castar."

The gnome sucks in a breath. "Joy."

[Dave W.]

Sorry, guys, stepping back a moment for a non-vital interlude. It's just a minor comment...

Aug 17, 2010 21:00:31 GMT -4 Jeff said:

[Castar's] eyes shift back to Adamant. "But it also makes you easily manipulated. Be careful of that."

Adamant responds quietly, absently, "Anything can be moved with the proper lever."

---------------------
We now return to the game in progress.

[Dave W.]

Adamant, unclear on the thrust of the current conversation, addresses the new halfing and gnome. "Lord Boromar, Master Castar," the warforged begins resisting the rhytmical nature of the gnome's name, "and Varna, I am having difficulty following the purpose of this visit. Truly, it would be easier if half the discussions were not conducted in halfling, but I will respect your desire for privacy. However, as has been noted, I am a simple being, so I will take your leave to be direct; why are we here?"

[Darren]

Kal matches Halak's stare with one equally intense and cold enough to freeze water. Watching the halfling eye Varna, an arc of electricity jumps unbidden between his hand the blade of his sharrash. If he notices, he doesn't show it. His eyes stay fixed on Halak.

"What was in the boxes?" he asks, his voice matching a stone for emotion. "What kind of shipment would have the gnolls so interested they'd hire a troll to help them? That kind of muscle doesn't come cheap."

[Joe]

Streko nods. "It seems as if we might be of some assistance to Clan Boromar after all...and fairly quickly as well."

He takes in the measure of the newcomer, a fierce protectiveness washing over him. Streko then turns to his sister and whispers to her. "Must every male within a hundred feet of you be so obvious of their lustful desire? It's becoming tiresome and not a little disturbing." He glances back at Halak and smiles broadly.

To the gnome. Streko merely bows. "I have not a racist bone in my body, Castar. I was simply reminded of another gnome of our recent acquaintance who delighted in making me and my friends...how shall I say this without insulting most of this entire room...larger than life. I meant no offense and apologize if it was perceived that way."

[Jeff]

Adamant:

"Lord Boromar, Master Castar..."

Both Varna and Castar scrunch up their faces at the titles Adamant gives them.

"What kind of shipment would have the gnolls so interested they'd hire a troll to help them? That kind of muscle doesn't come cheap."

Seeming unhappy to be addressed in his native tongue, Halak shifts back to Common, and speaks slowly. "Trolls aren't...hired. They're with Daask. From Droaam." He says nothing of the shipment.

Adamant:

"I am a simple being, so I will take your leave to be direct; why are we here?"

Streko:

"It seems as if we might be of some assistance to Clan Boromar after all...and fairly quickly as well."

"No reason," Varna says, looking between her brother and the warforged. "We're going. I only meant to inform you all of my affiliation, not to mix you up in anything." She looks to the burly halfling, her face flushed. "I'll be back soon, Halak. We can talk about what to do next."

She heads for the door and beckons to the rest of you. "Come on. Dragon Towers awaits you."

Castar yawns and examines his fingernails. Halak wanders over toward the window again, glancing at Kal a couple of times with a half smile.

[Darren]

Aug 18, 2010 22:33:17 GMT -4 Jeff said:

"No reason," Varna says, looking between her brother and the warforged. "We're going. I only meant to inform you all of my affiliation, not to mix you up in anything." She looks to the burly halfling, her face flushed. "I'll be back soon, Halak. We can talk about what to do next."

"Varna, you know full well that when you're dealing with people like this," he gestures to Castar and Halak without looking at them, "just knowing that they exist means you're mixed up with them." Kal looks over his shoulder at Caster and smiles. "No offense meant by the 'people like this'. You know how it is...."

[Jeff]

"Whatever, Kal," Varna returns. "But you're not going to be working for them. That wasn't my goal. So it's time to leave. Don't you have house business to attend to?"

[Darren]

Kalarian offers a grunt, then flourishes into an overly elaborate bow. "Gentlemen," he says to the Boromars, "thank you for the pleasant diversion. We have more important business to attend to, though."

______________________
I expect I won't be able to post again until this evening at the earliest.

[Ken]

"A pleasure, Castar," says Belarin. "Where and when may I speak with you to discuss business?"

Turning to Kal as they depart, he says, "Must you embarrass me?"

__________________________
If Castar is willing to talk now, Belarin will hang behind. But in light of the news from Halak, Castar probably has other things to take care of. After getting the info about a next meeting, Belarin will leave with the rest.

[Mike]

Giving Castar and Halak a wary eye, Syrdan follows his companions as they leave, saying nothing to his new "acquaintances".

[Brian]

"The Dragon Towers are fine by me, " says Condign. "I have to visit that bank there. I must admit to a certain amount of curiosity."

[Jeff]

Belarin:

"A pleasure, Castar," says Belarin. "Where and when may I speak with you to discuss business?"

As Belarin walks past him, hoping for an an answer, the gnome considers in silence a moment. Then, softly, he says, "In the Bazaar, find the pawnshop in the northeast corner, overlooking Ambassador Towers. The shop has no name. Ask the owner if she carries something she couldn't possibly carry—the more creative you are about it, the more likely she'll help you." He smiles. "And mention my name only if you absolutely must. It would legitimize your interests, but it might also...vex her."

With that, Varna leads you out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the building through a different series of hallways. As she walks, she says nothing, brooding in silence.

Only when you're out on the bustling streets again does she stop and turn to face you all.

"All right. Maybe we should split up. Condign, Dragon Towers has your bank. Kal, you wanted to go to Deneith's enclave, that's there as well. Go together." She points north, across the chasm to the Central Plateau. "It's right over there. But there's no telling how long either Kundarak or Deneith will take, so you may still want to split up."

Varna turns to Syrdan. "I don't think I'll be going to Shae Lias today, Syrdan. Thank you for the offer, though. Maybe someone else would like to go with you? Streko and Adamant?" She looks to Belarin. "You might want to go to the Bazaar now. You know, in case something else crazy happens and you don't get a chance later." She forces a smile.

________________________

And indeed this probably is the best time for some soloing or splitting into small groups. With Brian away for a week and a couple days, I don't want to halt everything altogether. If Condign goes his way alone, in the very least, we can still continue with the rest of you. I would then catch Brian up when he comes back.

So how do you want to do it?