fade rift. inbox. (old.)

[glandival]

sending crystal written correspondence quick exchanges

Comments

[byblow]

Well. That's something.

Someone's asked me to punch her to see if it inspires her to make a shield out of hers.

[glandival]

Ah?

[ She squints at her sending crystal. ]

I have seen it used once that way. By accident.

[byblow]

Was it blocking anything in particular? Did anything vanish into the Fade and never come back out? I'm a little attached to my hands.

[glandival]

It blocked a charging horse, but the horse lives still.

[ Small pause; ] Who is the shardbearer?

[byblow]

Well, that's something

She asked me to be discreet.

[ He hardly has a discreet bone in his body. That last word comes with a mimicry of uppercrust Orlesian pronunciation. ]

[glandival]

[ A husky, low laugh, that borders on ugh. ]

Then we speak of the same. You should not risk your hands for the little princess.

Try-- [ Mm. She won't suggest a broadsword. ] You could try a large fish. A sack of manure? A plucked chicken. Good motivation.

[byblow]

Mm, good ideas. I'll run them by her. [ A pause. ] I take it you're terribly good friends.

[glandival]

[ A non-committal sound, half-laugh, half-grunt. Then, as is not uncommon with Sabine, a sudden sharpness surfaces in her tone-- ]

Why is she asking this of you? And not another.

[byblow]

I don't know—I'm big and scary? And excellent at keeping secrets. Clearly.

If you want to punch her I bet you just have to ask.

[glandival]

You are big.

[ She'll give you that much. ]

I served in her house, once. We are not that sort of friend where I would ask before punching.

[byblow]

Oh. Well.

That's awkward.

Was she horrible? Should I shove her off a cliff?

[glandival]

Well.

[ Tempting proposal. But ultimately-- ]

Perhaps only a little cliff. Like that step that's set a little deeper when you leave the tavern.