dpdx said:
"Thedoric, I presume? It would explain a lot if you were."
It takes a moment for the man to answer -- he seems confused by the phrase itself. But when that moment is over, and recognition comes, he grins slightly.
"I've never gone by that name, nor have others used it for me, to my knowledge..." He shrugs.
"But, for purposes of our exchange, that's useful insight: There is a man, Thedoric," he recites to himself, making a show of recording it to memory.
"The White Birds haven't met him yet. But he's probably quite important."
He produces a pipe, lights it slowly.
"I'll help you in kind. There is a man, Dartath. You haven't met him yet, either, but he knows you pretty well, all the same. Or some of you."
Puffing away, he produces a ring from his breast pocket, a simple silver thing.
"He made the ring you wore, the ring worn by the old knight, understand. Take a look:"
He holds
his ring out in front of you, and gently blows smoke through it... into it... letting it linger about the center. And as he holds it closer, uncomfortably close, no doubt, an image on the other side resolves: Rocky hills, uncultivated countryside. You've passed there recently enough to recognize the road coming into Eivanrach.
"As far as I've bothered, I've managed to steal a look through... But I have every reason to believe that from his end, that ring is capable of much more than looking. One case being the villageboy who marches it here relentlessly, for no apparent reason... Another being the orc whose hand he took it from, after that orc had marched himself to death -- or near enough that the boy's slings finished the job easily, at least."
He blows out the image, closes his hand about his ring, and pockets it unceremoniously.
"But never mind that story -- I imagine it will be of no consequence to you, at this point. And neither will the ring itself be of consequence, so long as you keep moving, and cover your tracks well. But that is really up to you."
He sets down his pipe now, which still smolders lightly, and clasps his hand together.
"The reason I tell you this story -- this man Dartath, he is, ah... an old friend... or old enemy..." He seems to find both of these words wholly inappropriate.
"An old rival, I think expresses it best. We play a game, and it is a very simple game: What I try to do, he tries to undo, and vice versa."
He leans back in his chair, palms flat against one another.
"And what you have to do with any of it? I'm not sure, yet. But the reason I tell you this story: If you agreed with whatever it is he's up to, and I haven't figured that part out yet, myself, but if you agreed with it, there's no use for the ring, now, is there? So I can only assume you'd disagree with it, and I know I'd disagree with it, so... And that means we are on the same side, or close enough to it. And that's the reason I tell you this, so perhaps you'll trust me a bit with else I have to tell you, and what more I need to know... Or at least, that your suspicions will be eased a bit, and we can find some line of discussion that will be mutually beneficial."
dpdx said:
Peripherally, he looks for Hiritus - and his reaction.
Looking back at Hiritus, from time to time, it's clear that his suspicions haven't been eased a bit, or for a moment.