Post by Reverend Mateus on Jul 5, 2016 12:44:37 GMT -5
A shabby inn. Of all places.
Second-hand furniture, creaky floors, a rather impolite host; even stains on the walls the puppet master would rather not attempt to identify...
‘Dis-gus-ting.’ And there was a small sound of displeasure escaping the mute man’s throat, a half-formed noise never destined to be anything more than choked. One would think that money could get you a better place to stay, but apparently civilisation yet has to reach this godforsaken town... Not even cell-phone reception for the next three miles, who would believe.
Eventide, for all Silva was concerned, could just as well have been stuck in the late middle ages. What a pisshole of a town. — Or at least that’s what the puppeteer told himself as well-manicured nails drummed against the worn desk covered in documents, notes, and discarded papers containing his half of conversations. But that was hardly of interest, far more fascinating was a particular cluttered mess of papers one could hardly call a stack; containing most of the observations they had managed to save from Liam’s demise. A few notes of his own, clean handwriting, the results of the past few days. Examination, probation for this group of misfits, yes, but that was only one aspect to this unwanted field trip: Politically seen, this entire undertaking was a high-wire act performed during a barely contained storm. To bring together great influences from all around the world just to clean up and negotiate a lost battlefield, it sounded foolish at best. Acting as if humans are capable of working together. Hah.
And yet here they were, intending to monitor a cult which has proven itself a worthy force. A cult which has torn through their ranks not with ease but surely with great destruction, has toppled the king from his throne and paved the way for a new leader to bring discipline and order into burnt ashes, wounds still bleeding — In a way, Silva was grateful. Had to be grateful. This collection of monsters, beast, potential puppets, accidents; they have proven themselves to be useful, not to be underestimated again for the sake of everyone involved. He would have to talk to their leader soon. Perhaps they could be of further use in the future, perhaps a proper alliance was in order.
A truce.
After all, he did promise Rowan peace.
[Vincent R. Silva]