Dismas never backed away from a challenge. "How would you know? What it yer Light speaks through those?"īlue eyes squinted, pinning him down. "Like shite I ain't," and just to be a nuisance, he added. "You're leading her from the Light's saving grace," the crusader insisted instead, irritated. "Oh please, I just needed t' calm her down, somehow, she seemed too mild for my usual humour," he shrugged, nonchalant, in a hint to just let it slide. "Diving under that spear? Yeah, I s'ppose I deserved that gash-" Dis thought that was it - up until a heavy gauntlet landed on his shoulder. And it worked - maybe due to the promise, or maybe the human contact, or maybe simply because soon enough they got the fuck out of Ruins. Lasses loved their promises of love, after all. It all started when Dismas, being the conman that he was, tried to pacify the vestal who was about to lose it by taking her hand and promising her all the things people want to hear in the pear-shaped situation: luck, long life and, since she was quite a looker despite Church's best attempts to make it obscure, love. Other times it was on Dismas when he overindulged in his vices a tad too much and the results varied from lost coin to having to hide in Abbey's cellars from pissed-off adventurers.īut getting peeved over something so small was the new record they've set for themselves. Sometimes it was over yet another grand delusion that the Abbot enforced on his parishioners and Rey decided was worth following despite any and all common sense. However, sometimes even that carefully maintained smooth sailing got a bump on the road, so to speak. That was a mercy the rogue tried not to abuse. That - and the fact that Dis was usually not in the condition to mop the floor after his benders anyway, and Reynauld was way too goddamn obsessed with cleanliness to wait it out and then punish his companion with scribing dried-up vomit. The perks of living together for so long, the rogue supposed. Alright, he learned to tolerate and work around it most of the time, much like the knight in question quickly learned the most effective hair-of-the-dog recipes and the exact tonality of gurgling the highwayman made when he was about to throw up. Most of the time, Dismas was fine with Reynauld's ungodly - pun definitely intended, probably to his crusader's chagrin - amount of righteous zealotry.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |