On the Trail

Tiberius revealed more than Avorra was expecting. A despair demon? That was an interesting bit of information. She vaulted it in the back of her mind for later reference. I once played host to a Demon of Pride, so the sentiment is mutual. As to what inhabits me now, I would rather reveal in private. Too many ears are about this place. Avorra said, eyeballing a nearby mage that had taken more than one look at her in the past five minutes. I do not intend to force you into a pact, if that is what you are suggesting. You have my word that your will is your own.

A pity you do not need any mysterious disappearances. Though, you say you met someone like me in Orlais? Do tell. What, exactly, am I like? Avorra said, raising an eyebrow. I happen to be very fond of the Great Game, and I tend to visit Orlais almost as often as Rivain. She snickered. It was true, Orlais was a beauty of a place for someone like Avorra. The politics were cutthroat, everyone scheming against each other, the bards and minstrels most of all. Some would say that the troubadours were more like assassins than entertainers.

Hmm. Perhaps we should take our conversation elsewhere? Avorra said, sipping from her raspberry tea as she stared down the adjacent mage once more. Then, you can tell me all about your little Despair Demon and your adventures in Orlais, yes?