[ That laugh does wonders for Iorveth's peace of mind. Astarion is full of sounds, like a music box with its crank perpetually wound and turning, but his songbird-laugh is Iorveth's favorite.
Into the bookstore they go, with its selection of more accessible titles compared to the more dense, technical tomes that Gale's libraries are full of. The chronicles of Nicholas and Edgar are laid out on a table marked "Bestsellers", next to a duology set in the same universe (the Nicho-Ed-verse? the Ed-Olas-verse?) about Edgar's former flame and his paramour. Gods, how do they keep track of them all. ]
The Aen Seidhe read, yes. But I've no idea if Halsin is literate. [ Mean!!! Halsin is very learned, probably. But Iorveth is still sore about Halsin not offering solidarity with respect to the Aen Seidhe plight, so, to some extent, fuck him. (Affectionate.) ]
To elaborate: my people prefer poetry and song over prose. We have chronicled our history on paper, but much of our most important memories are passed down orally. [ And here's the depressing bit, as expected: ] Which is why, if we're purged, the proof of our existence will die with the last of us.
[ Anyway. That's a bummer, so Iorveth moves swiftly on. ]
I don't dislike prose, at any rate. Have you any recommendations?
no subject
Into the bookstore they go, with its selection of more accessible titles compared to the more dense, technical tomes that Gale's libraries are full of. The chronicles of Nicholas and Edgar are laid out on a table marked "Bestsellers", next to a duology set in the same universe (the Nicho-Ed-verse? the Ed-Olas-verse?) about Edgar's former flame and his paramour. Gods, how do they keep track of them all. ]
The Aen Seidhe read, yes. But I've no idea if Halsin is literate. [ Mean!!! Halsin is very learned, probably. But Iorveth is still sore about Halsin not offering solidarity with respect to the Aen Seidhe plight, so, to some extent, fuck him. (Affectionate.) ]
To elaborate: my people prefer poetry and song over prose. We have chronicled our history on paper, but much of our most important memories are passed down orally. [ And here's the depressing bit, as expected: ] Which is why, if we're purged, the proof of our existence will die with the last of us.
[ Anyway. That's a bummer, so Iorveth moves swiftly on. ]
I don't dislike prose, at any rate. Have you any recommendations?